Part 26 (1/2)

The snowstorm was raging outside, and the wild howling of the wind could be heard distinctly now in the quiet of the little room.

Suddenly it gave a louder moan, and shook the shutter as though trying to blow it off its hinges. Maciej must have heard this, for he raised his head, and, as if to put an end to his own thoughts, spoke at last.

”Perhaps everything might have been the same to-day, if it hadn't been for that misfortune.... If it hadn't been for that misfortune,” he repeated slowly, as we both instinctively moved closer to him to comfort him.

”But directly the storm[6] broke out life became different in our village. All the strong young fellows went off, and I shouldn't have kept at home either, if the master hadn't said: 'No; what has to be done there can be done without you, and you can be useful here.'

Well, he knew better than I did; so I stayed. Yet at first Marya and I both thought: 'Why is he keeping me here?' for I was sitting doing nothing for weeks. But suddenly one night, just before it got light, there was great excitement in the village. Some hors.e.m.e.n came riding up, people began to tear about, and there wasn't time to say two Paternosters before it was all round the village: 'They're coming!

They're coming!' How the news spread so quickly, just like a cry, Lord only knows! But as it spread, every single living thing was on its feet at once, and rus.h.i.+ng out into the road. Only a few had time to dress, and most people ran out as they were, in their s.h.i.+rts.

”Then the master sent for me. I was always at work from that time, and it was rare for me to spend a night at home. I knew all the country for ten miles round, so, if anything was wanted, it was I who had to go everywhere. With or without a letter, on horseback or on foot, I was on the trot for whole days and nights, taking and bringing messages, or acting as guide to someone. I could scarcely come home and sit down to supper before the master knocked at the window; I put a bit of bread and cheese in my coat pocket, and off I set. Marya cried to herself, and she very rarely missed going to Ma.s.s. But G.o.d took care of me. I didn't like riding, because horses easily came to grief under my weight; it was better for me to walk.

”So half a year pa.s.sed. I remember coming back from my last journey. I had been crossing a bog in the wood that only anyone knowing the way could get through. But I came through it, and stayed at home a day--in fact, two--and they didn't send for me from the house. I waited a third, and n.o.body came.

”'What's the matter? Is he ill, or what's up?' I asked the household servants.

”'No,' they said, 'he's out walking and driving; but he isn't like himself, for he's even stopped shouting.' I asked again: 'Didn't he send for me?' 'No,' they said, 'he didn't send for you.' What had happened? I couldn't get clear about it. Marya was glad--like a silly woman. 'Ah!' she said, 'you've become such a gadabout, you don't like being at home now!' But when I said to her, 'Shut your mouth, Marya, or I'll shut it for you!' she saw there was no joking, and stopped talking. On the fourth day I couldn't stand it; I dressed and went to the master's house. In spite of having been allowed to go to the master's room at any time of day or night all that half-year, I went into the kitchen, and let him know that I had come.

”He called me in, and I went in and bowed, but he was a bit strange.

He seemed cross, and was walking about, searching for something among his papers, and didn't look at me when he spoke to me. So far he had always looked straight at me when he said anything, and then I had understood. This time he didn't.

”'Well, well, Maciej,' he said, 'what have you to tell me?'

”I was very much surprised, for what should I have to tell him? But since he asked, I said: 'I've come to see if there are any messages to be taken, sir.'

”'Yes,' he answered the same way as before. 'I was just thinking of sending for you. There's a letter to be taken to Korzeniste.'

”He sat down, wrote it, and gave it to me.

”I wasn't pleased, for I knew there was nothing going on at Korzeniste; but, on the other hand, I thought it was stupid of me, for how should I know everything? So, though this didn't seem to me to be right, I felt cheered up. I took the message quickly, and came back and asked when he wanted me to come again.

”'Oh,' he said, 'there's sure to be nothing urgent now; and if there is, I'll send for you.'

”Again he didn't look at me as he said this, and seemed strange. That hurt me, for I knew that he was sending people on errands whom he never used to send. But I daren't speak; I went and waited.

”And I waited again for several days; no news of the master. I didn't leave my farm during that time, for truth's truth, and through my always being away there was a lot to do at home. I tidied up my clothes and went to see people.

”On Sat.u.r.day evening I went to the inn. When I pa.s.sed the Wojciecks'

cottage where the fence is, some people were standing at the corner of the house. They didn't see me coming. I came near, and heard them talking quite loud. When I got nearer and they saw me, they looked at each other, and not another word was spoken. I said, 'Christ be blessed!' but only Jedrek mumbled, 'In Eternity!'[7] I thought they were perhaps talking about something among themselves, so I pa.s.sed on.

”It was the same at the inn. There was a noise going on there, because it was the day before a festival, and, as is usual then, there were a lot of peasants sitting drinking vodka or beer. When I went in, they looked at me and there was silence in a moment, just as if the word had been given for it. I paid no attention, I came in, sat down, and ordered my gla.s.s; but I saw that people didn't talk to me as if I belonged to them. 'What's up? Good Lord! is it because I've worked for the master, or what?'

”But they've always known that; and they also know that, though I've served under the master, I was really working for another reason; they've known that a long time, and it's never been like this before.

So it must be something else.

”I went home quite upset. When Marya looked at me, she saw in a moment that there was something wrong, and began at once, like a woman does: 'What's the matter, my dear? tell me what it is.' I saw she was thinking--Lord knows what; so I told her: 'People won't speak to me as they used to; why, I don't know.' And I told her about it. Then Marya clasped her hands, and said: 'I know whose fault it is: no one's but that scoundrel Mateus.' Now, Mateus was my elder brother, and though there's a proverb, 'The apple falls near the tree,' this time it wasn't true; for neither my parents nor grandparents were that sort, and he was nothing more nor less than a scoundrel. I asked: 'How is it his fault?' 'It's his fault,' Marya said. 'People speak badly of him; not to my face or to our family, but I and my father have heard them say: ”They are always off in different directions.” And others say: ”Honour among thieves”; what Maciej hears at the house[8] Mateus sells to the German colonists or to the Jewish bailiff; and so on.' I didn't listen to any more; my hair stood on end.

”I asked: 'Why didn't you tell me this before?' and lifted up my hand to strike her. But Marya pulled me up.