Название: Judith Trachtenberg
Автор: Karl Emil Franzos
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4057664563378
isbn:
"Indeed!" exclaimed the baron, affecting astonishment. "I did not know it. In that case we would only be giving him a choice between moral and physical death, which would be hard. Then we will only require a written apology, which we shall not publish."
Herr von Wroblewski cleared his throat. "Well, then, we shall give no one occasion to say we are revengeful. An oral apology will suffice. We will invite a few gentlemen. Count Agenor can come to us, and--" The baron came to a stop. Herr von Wroblewski cleared his throat louder than ever.
"Or--h'm--! We won't invite any one--or we could meet here! You, Wladko, the count, and myself, quite informally. He could just mutter something, as, 'I did not intend to give offence, etc.' They would shake hands, and--"
Herr von Wroblewski was seized with a severe fit of coughing.
"D---- it all!" swore the old gentleman, wiping the perspiration from his face. "We cannot make it easier. We couldn't go to him, so that he could say the few words. Or--h'm!--do you think we could?"
"It would be very unusual," said the magistrate again, sober as the grave.
"Unusual! That does not matter! Mon Dieu! Everything must be done for the first time. My dear friend, I beg of you, I implore you to--"
"I will do my best," promised Wroblewski, and he kept his word. He went to the count the very next day, and laughingly laid the proposition before him. Agenor laughed aloud.
"It is impossible. I am an officer. No matter what I said to the boy, it would be regarded as an apology."
"But you don't thirst for his blood. Just consider--a young fellow excited by champagne, and she a Jewess!"
"He met her as your guest."
"Yes, certainly! I do not intend to excuse Wladko. But be honest, my dear count. Would you have said anything if she had been ugly?"
"Yes," said Agenor, seriously. "I do not love the Jews, as you know; quite the contrary; and not because of my experience with them as a young officer. But I find it quite natural that all creatures on earth should protect themselves with their own weapons. Theirs are trickery and money. I have frequently asked myself whose fault it is that they use such weapons. They are often men with splendid abilities, and in many ways more moral than we. I acknowledge it is very largely our own fault. We are antagonistic; we knock them down; they bite us in the heels. So, without pondering over whose fault it is, I place myself in the ranks of those to whom I belong, by blood and position."
"But, my dear count!" interrupted the official. "As if it required any words! Do you fancy I like the Jews?"
"Your position is not mine," responded Agenor, curtly. "As judge, you cannot be a party man; but I, as a private individual, may, and, as the head of an old family, must be one. For in the contest my class is being ruined. It cuts me to the heart to know this, for I think much of this class, its necessities and its obligations. We aristocrats--I mean we true, pure-blooded, wealthy old families--are the only firm pillars of the state, as, indeed, we Polish aristocrats are the only hope of our nation. There is no other besides us--the middle class scarcely exists, and the peasantry are against us. Look over the country; one man after another, one family after another, falls and sinks into oblivion--through foolishness, idleness, and bad management, I allow. But could we incur debts so readily if there were no Jews in the country? Who is the inheritor? The Jew! Who has possession of the estates of the Wolczinskis, which a hundred years ago were enormous? Armenians, who hold them for the Jews, since they are prohibited from owning real estate themselves."
"Very true," responded Wroblewski. "And for this very reason you should not shoot the last of the Wolczinskis!"
"I do not propose to," said the count, with a smile; "although it might prove the best thing for him, and others like him. For what will become of them? Only a few can straighten out their affairs by marriage with the bourgeoisie, and this is a misfortune--a humiliation. We have not yet gone as far as they have in the Western provinces, where Count Wagenspergh recently married an Eskeles. Is that to happen with us? The first rule in this contest should be, no social intercourse with Jews--no pulling-down of barriers."
"Is that a reproach?" inquired the magistrate, in a hurt tone. "You yourself wished it;" and he told how he had interpreted the count's words.
"Well, yes, you understood me so," said the count, in confusion. "True, you told me the girl often came to your house. But it was foolish of me, and my folly has been severely avenged. Do you think it pleasant for me to fight a duel on account of a Jewess? But it is always the way. We turn from the beaten path for one step, and it proves to be a mile in the end. It was the first time I had met a Jewess in society; but being there, she was to be considered a lady like the rest. When the insult was offered, she was in my vicinity, and, therefore, under my protection; and such would have been the case, no matter how plain she might have been. However, this supposition does not count, as Judith is beautiful--very beautiful, unfortunately."
"Unfortunately?"
"Yes." The count looked down sadly, even gloomily. "My dear Wroblewski, if I were not aware that you knew me to be the reverse of a saint, I would be ashamed, of the confession, that since my first sight of that face I--but words cannot express it. In short, that it is a great pity that she is a Jewess, and a--"
"And?"
"And a virtuous girl." The count drew a long breath, and colored to the roots of his hair, while his fingers closed upon the ivory paper-knife with which he had been playing, with such a firm grip that it snapped in two.
The magistrate's eyes were wide open now; he winked slyly, and puckered his mouth as if to whistle. He then said softly: "One must be loyal. You have an old friend here on whom you can rely unconditionally--unconditionally, and in everything, my dear count."
The young aristocrat turned suddenly; his face was still red, and his lips trembled.
"What do you mean?" he inquired, brusquely. Wroblewski looked straight at him and smiled, but made no answer.
The count cast down his eyes. "We had better not say any more about it, at least not to-day. As regards your protégé, young Wolczinski, I cannot oblige him."
He arose, and the magistrate took up his hat. "Farewell, my dear friend," he said, offering his right hand.
But the count kept both hands in the pockets of his short riding-coat. "Adieu, Herr von Wroblewski!"
The magistrate smiled more deprecatingly than ever; but he stopped in the corridor, and soliloquized: "I did not think you were so young, my noble patron. But you shall pay dearly for that shake of the hand you gave me."
Proceeding to the Wolczinski house, his communication again started the fountains flowing. Only Herr Jan retained his composure. "Heaven will not allow two young noblemen to murder each other for the sake of a Jewess. Rest assured, God will work some miracle."
The pious confidence of the old man was not deceived. The miracle was wrought.
Nathaniel returned the same evening. He was much frightened when Judith went to meet him in great excitement. He listened to her confession, and walked up and down the room with long, nervous strides.
"Keep calm, my СКАЧАТЬ