In Vain. Henryk Sienkiewicz

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ her, which had been the cause and effect of her life, had vanished. Thenceforth she ceased to live, she only existed. Imagine a plant which is cut at the top and the root; such was Helena. Torn from the past and debarred from the future, at first she bore within her a dim belief that a shameful injustice had been wrought on her. At the moment of her pain she threw out, it is difficult to know at whom, this question, as unfathomable as the bottomless pit: Why has this happened? No answer came from the blue firmament, or the earth, or the fields, or the forest; the injustice remained injustice. The sun shone and the birds sang on as before. Then that unfortunate heart withdrew into itself with its own pain and became deadened.

      No answer came, but her mind grew diseased—she lost belief in the death of her husband, she thought that he had taken the weeping child in his arms and gone somewhere, but that he might return any moment. Then, altogether incapable of another thought, she sought him with that bitter mechanical movement of the eyes. She went to the restaurant, thinking to find him there where she had made his acquaintance.

      Unfortunately she did not die, but found a valiant arm which strove to snatch her from error, and a breast which wished to give her warmth. The effort was vain, but it saved her life. Gustav's love secured her rescue and protection, as it were by the tenure of a spider-web which did not let her go from the earth. His voice cried to her, "Stay," and though there was no echo in her, she remained, without witness of herself, indifferent, a thing, not a human being.

      Such was the widow.

      She entered the room and stood near the door, like a stone statue, in gloomy majesty. It was warm and smoky around her, the last sounds of a song were quivering in the air yet. A little coarse and a little dissolute was the song, and on that impure background bloomed the widow like a water-lily on a turbid pool.

      Silence came. They respected her in that place. In her presence even Augustinovich became endurable. Some remembered Potkanski, others inclined their heads before her misfortune. There were also those who revered her beauty. The assembly assumed in her presence its seemliest aspect.

      Gustav brought up an armchair to Pani Helena, and taking her warm shawl went to a corner to Yosef, who, attracted and astonished, turned his gleaming eyes at the widow.

      Gustav began a conversation with him.

      "That is she," said he, in an undertone.

      "I understand."

      "Do not show thyself to her much. The poor woman! every new face brings her disappointment, she is always looking for her husband."

      "Art thou acquainted with her long?"

      "This is the second year. I was a witness and best man at Potkanski's wedding." Gustav smiled bitterly. "Since his death I see her daily."

      "Vasilkevich says that thou hast given her aid and protection."

      "I have, and I have not; some one had to attend to that, and I occupied myself with it; but such protection as mine—Do what is possible, work, fly, run—misery upon misery! so that sometimes despair seizes hold of a man."

      "But the family?"

      "What family?"

      "His."

      "They injure her!" cried Gustav, with violence.

      "But they are rich, are they not?"

      "Aristocrats! Hypocrites! They and I have not finished yet. They will remember long the injustice done to this dove. Listen to me, Yosef. Were a little child of that family to beg a morsel of bread of me from hunger, I would rather throw the bread to a dog."

      "Oh, a romance!"

      "Wrong me not, Yosef. I am poor, I waste no words. Potkanski when in the hospital regained consciousness just before death, and said, 'Gustav, to thee I leave my wife; care for her.' I answered, 'I will care for her.' 'Thou wilt not let her die of hunger?' 'I will not,' said I. 'Let no one offend her; take vengeance on any one who tries to do her an injury.' 'As God is merciful in life to me, I will avenge her,' said I. He quenched after that, like a candle. There thou hast the whole story."

      "Not the whole story, not all, brother!"

      "Vasilkevich told thee the rest. Very well! I will repeat the same to thee. I have no one on earth, neither father nor mother. I myself am in daily want, and she alone binds me to life." He indicated the widow with his eyes.

      And here Yosef, little experienced yet, had a chance to estimate what passion is when it rises in a youthful breast and adds fire to one's blood. That dry and bent Gustav seemed to him at that moment to gain strength and vigor; he seemed to him loftier, more manly; he shook his hair as a lion shakes his mane, and on his face a flush appeared.

      "Well, gentlemen," began Vasilkevich, "the hour is late, and sleep is not awaiting all of us after leaving this meeting-place. One more song, and then whoso wishes may say his good-night."

      He of the maiden face who sat at the piano struck some well-known notes, then a few youthful voices sounded, but afterward a whole chorus of them raised the song dear to students, "Gaudeamus" (Let us rejoice).

      Yosef went nearer the piano than others. He stood with his side face turned to the widow, under the light; but the lamp hanging near the wall cast his profile in one line of light. After a while the widow's eyes fell on that line, connecting it unquietly with her own thoughts. On a sudden she rose, as pale as marble, with a feverish gleam in her eyes, stretched forth her arms, and cried—

      "My Kazimir, I have found thee!"

      In her voice were heard hope, alarm, joy, and awakening. All were silent. Every eye turned toward Yosef, and a quiver ran through those who had known Potkanski. In the light and shade that tall, strong figure seemed a repetition of the dead man.

      "I was not careful," muttered Gustav, on his way home about daybreak. "H'm! well, her trouble has passed, but she was excited! He is really like him—The devils take it! But the cursed asthma stifles me to-day."

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

      Yosef meditated long over the choice of his course. "I have given my clear word of honor not to waste myself in life, therefore I meditate," said he to Vasilkevich.

      And here it must be confessed that the University roused him in no common manner. From various points of the world youth journeyed thither, like lines of storks. Some were entering to satisfy their mental thirst, others were going away. Some hurried in to gain knowledge as bees gather honey. They assembled, they scattered, they went in crowds, they drew from science, they drew from themselves, they drew from life. They gave animation and they received it, they spared life or they squandered it, they pressed forward, they halted, they fell, they conquered, and they were broken with their lives. Bathing in that sea, some of them were drowned, others swam to shore. Movement, uproar, activity dominated immensely.

      The University was like a general ovarium where brains were to be propagated. It opened every year, giving forth ripe fruits, and taking in straightway new nurslings. Men were born there a second time. It was beautiful to see how youth, like waves of water, rolled forth to the world yearly, bearing light to the ignorant, as it were provisions to the human field. To such a sea the boat of life brought Yosef. Where СКАЧАТЬ