Martsian had determined indeed to tell Panna Anulka that she must always consider Belchantska as her own, but he deferred this information till after the funeral; he wished first to talk with his father, who, because of the legal actions on which he had been working all his lifetime, was skilled in law, and was able to avoid in advance many troubles. Both were convinced that their cause was a good one; so the next day, just at the moment when men were placing Pan Gideon in his coffin, they shut themselves up in a side chamber and began with good courage to take counsel.
“Providence is above us,” said the old man, “nothing but Providence, to which Pan Gideon will answer seriously for the injustice which he intended to do us.”
“Well, let him answer,” replied Martsian. “It is our happiness that he only intended and did not succeed, for now we will take everything. The Sulgostovskis have quarrelled with me already, but I will tear the souls out of those wretches before I let them have even one field of Belchantska.”
“Ha, the scoundrels! the sons of a such a one! God twist them! I have no fear of such people, I fear only a will. Hast thou asked the prelate? If any one knows of a will it is he.”
“I had no chance yesterday, for he attacked me when quarrelling with the Sulgostovskis and said to us: ‘The dead man is not cold yet,’ then he went for a coffin and a priest, and to-day there has been no opportunity.”
“But if Pan Gideon has willed all to that girl?”
“He had not the right, for this estate belonged to his late wife, our nearest relative.”
“But a will has been mentioned, and there will be costs and going to tribunals, and God knows what more in addition.”
“Father is accustomed to lawsuits. But I have fixed in my head something of such sort that there will be no need of lawsuits; meanwhile beatus qui tenet” (happy is the man in possession); “for this reason I shall not leave Belchantska. I have sent for our servants already. Let the Sulgostovskis or the Zabierzovskis drive me out later.”
“But the girl, if it is willed to her?”
“Who will take her side? She is as much alone in this world as a finger; she has no relatives, no friends—an ordinary orphan. Who will wish to expose his neck for her, lay himself open to quarrels, duels, expenses? How does she concern any one? Tachevski was in love with her, but Tachevski is gone, he may never come back, and if he should he has nothing; he knows as much as my horse about lawsuits. To tell the truth, the position is such that if not Pan Gideon, but her own father, had left her Belchantska, we might come in here and manage in our own way, under pretext of guarding the orphan. I think that Pan Gideon intended to make a will only in the contract of marriage, so either no will at all will be found, or if it be found it will be some old one with a clause for Panna Anulka from her guardian.”
“We can break such a will,” said the old man, “my head on that! Though a lawsuit will not be avoided.”
“How so? I hear father’s words, but I think it will be avoided.”
“If, for speaking between us, Pan Gideon’s wife was weak-minded, if she left all to her husband he had the right to leave it to whomever he selected.”
Old Krepetski uttered the last words almost in a whisper, while looking around on all sides, though he knew that there was no one in the room except him and Martsian.
“How could she leave it to him when she died suddenly?” asked Martsian.
“It was dated the year after their marriage. It is clear that Pan Gideon wheedled her out of it, because they inhabited perilous places, and no man could know when the Tartars might howl out his requiem. They drew up wills to each other in the town at Pomorani; these wills were brought by Pan Gideon to this place. I thought to start lawsuits against him at that time, but saw that I could not do so successfully. Now it is different.”
“We shall succeed now without lawsuits.”
“If so, all the better; but we must be ready for action.”
“Ei! there is no need to be ready.”
“How, then?”
“I will get on without father.”
Old Pan Krepetski, on hearing this, flashed into anger.
“Thou wilt get on? What? How? But spoil not my labor. He will get on! But didst thou not advise me to leave the Silnitskis in peace touching Dranjkov? According to thee, there was no way to master them. No way? Why not? They had witnesses to swear to the land—a great thing! I made men put earth into their boots from my courtyard. Well, and what after that? They went to Silnitski’s land, and took no false oath when each one of them testified: ‘I swear that the land on which I am standing belongs to Krepetski.’ Thou wouldst have thought a whole year, but never invented a reason of that kind. Thou wilt get on? Look at him!”
And he began to move his toothless jaws angrily, as if he were chewing some substance; and his chin touched his nose, which was hooked like the beak of some bird of prey.
“Pant out thy anger, my father, and listen,” said Martsian. “Wherever it is a question of carrying on lawsuits I yield to thee always; but as to what concerns women, my experience is greater, and I trust in myself with more confidence.”
“Is it possible?”
“Therefore, if it comes to a struggle with Parma Anulka it will not be before any tribunal.”
“What art thou working out?”
“To divine is not difficult. Is this not my opportunity? Or wilt thou find another such girl in this region?”
Martsian threw his head up and looked in the eyes of his father. The father looked at him, too, with a glance of inquiry, chewed with his gums, and then asked,—
“How is it, pray tell me.”
“Why not tell? Since yesterday it is circling through my head.”
“Hm! Why not? Because she is as needy as Lazarus.”
“But I will come into Belchantska with songs, and unhindered. She is indigent, but the girl is of great blood. And remember the words of Pan Gideon, that if one were to look through the papers of the Sieninskis, it would be possible to drive from their land one-half of the inhabitants of a province. The Sobieskis grew great from them, hence there should be royal protection. The king himself ought to think of a provision. And the girl has pleased my eye this long time, for she is a dainty morsel—dainty! oh dainty!”
And he sprang about on his short legs, licking his mustache as he did so; wherewith he looked so revolting that old Krepetski remarked to him,—
“She will not want thee.”
“And she wanted old Pan Gideon. Are the girls few who have wanted me? A great many young men have gone to the army; so we may buy girls by the bundle, like shoe-nails. Old Pan Gideon knew why he sent me from the mansion. He would not have done so, had he himself not been looking at Panna Anulka.”
“But supposing that she will not want thee—then what?”
Evil gleams shone from the eyes of Martsian.
“Then,” replied he, with emphasis, “it is possible so to act with a girl who has no protection, that she herself will beg thee to go to the church with her.”
The old man was frightened at these words.
“Ah!” said he. “But dost thou not know that act to be criminal?”
“I know that no one would take the part of Panna Anulka.”
“But I say to thee, have a care! As it is there are voices against thee. If a man win or lose a lawsuit for property he will not become infamous, but thy thought is of crime—dost understand me?”
“Oh, it will not go to that unless she herself wants it. But do not hinder, only act as I tell thee. After the funeral let father take Tekla home with him, and if there is any excuse also old Pani Vinnitski. I will stay with the girls, with Agneshka and Johanna. They are reptiles, raging at any woman who is younger and comelier than they are. They began yesterday to point their stings at the orphan, but what will they do when living under one roof with her? They will stab, and bite, and insult her, refuse her the bread of compassion. I see this, as if I were reading it in a book, and it is all as water to my mill.”
“What wilt thou grind with it?”
“What will I grind? This: that I will quarrel with those serpents. I will invent something against them; I will give one a slap in the face when it pleases me, then the orphan will kiss me on the hands, on the knees. ‘I am thy defender, thy brother, thy true friend,’ I will say to her, ‘thou art here the real mistress.’ And dost thou think, father, that the heart in her will not soften, that she will not fall in love with him who will be a shield and defence to her, who will wipe away her tears, who will watch day and night over her? And if in her sorrow and abandonment and tears she comes to some extraordinary confidence, so much the better! so much the better! so much the better!”
Here Martsian rubbed his hands and so exhibited his goat eyes to his father that the old man had to spit in abhorrence. “Tfu! Pagan!” exclaimed he. “There is always one thing in thy mind.”
“Indeed ants walk on me when I look at her. It wasn’t for nothing that Pan Gideon drove me from the mansion.”
A moment of silence now followed.
“Then thou wilt tell Johanna and Agneshka to act as thou wishest?”
“There is no need to say anything to them or to teach them; their nature suffices. Tekla alone is a dove, they are kites, the two others.”
Martsian had not deceived himself, his sisters had begun, each in her own way to take charge of Anulka. Tekla took her every little while in her arms and wept with her, Agneshka and Johanna solaced her, but in another fashion,—
“What did not happen, did not happen,” said Agneshka, “but be at rest, thou wilt not be our aunt, because the Lord was not willing, but no one here will harm thee, or grudge thee a morsel.”
“And no one will drive thee to work,” said the other, “for we know that thou art not used to it; when thou hast recovered, if thou thyself wish, then that is different; in every case wait till thy sorrow is over, for indeed great misfortune has struck thee. Thou wert to be mistress here, thou wert to have thy husband, and now except us thou hast no one. But believe that though we are not relatives we will be to thee as if relatives. Be reconciled to the will of God. The Lord has tried thee, but for that cause he pardons thee other sins. For if thou, perhaps, hast trusted too much in thy beauty, or didst desire wealth and rich clothing (we are all sinful for that matter, therefore I only say this), that will be accounted to thee against other sins.”
“Amen,” said Agneshka. “Give to the church for the soul of the dead man some ornament, or some little jewel, for thou hast no need of bridal robes now, and we will ask father to permit thee to do this.”
Then they looked with sharp eyes at the robes on the table, and at the chests in which lay the trousseau. Such a desire at last seized them to see what was hidden that Johanna burst out with these words,—
“Perhaps we might help thee in selecting?”
And both rushed at the chests, boxes, and bundles, in which were still lying unpacked the robes brought from Radom, and out with them, to be opened and examined before the light, and under the light, and then the two girls began to try them on their own persons.
Panna Anulka sat, as if stunned, in the arms of the dear Tekla, seeing nothing, knowing nothing of what they were doing to her and around her.