CHAPTER XIX
We have said that Augustinovich feared to tell Yosef what had happened at Pani Visberg's. Lula had deceived his expectations; in spite of aristocracy, in spite of Pelski, she loved the young doctor, since news of his sickness had shocked her to such a degree.
Augustinovich lost his humor and the freedom of thought usual to him. Whether he would or not, he felt respect for Lula, and he felt respect for woman. Ei! that was something so strange in him, so out of harmony with his moral make up, that he could not come into agreement with himself. He had the look of a man caught in a falsehood, and the falsehood was his understanding of woman. He grew very gloomy. Once even (a wonderful thing and strange for him, or forgotten) words were forced from him that were full of painful bitterness: "Oh, if one like her could be met in a lifetime, a man would not be what he is." He avoided Yosef, he feared him, he hesitated, he wished to confess everything; then again he deferred it till the morrow.
Finally Yosef himself took note of his strange demeanor.
"What is the matter with thee, Adam?" asked he.
"But of Lula he cannot ask!" cried Augustinovich, with comical despair.
Yosef sprang to his feet.
"Of Lula? What does that mean? Speak!"
"It means nothing; what should it mean? Is all this to mean something right away?"
"Augustinovich, thou art hiding something?"
"But the fellow is thinking only of Lula!" cried Augustinovich, with increasing despair.
Yosef with unheard-of effort mastered himself, but that was a calm before a terrible storm. His sunken cheeks grew still paler, his eyes were flaming.
"Well, I will tell thee all!" cried Augustinovich, anticipating the outburst "I will tell, I will tell! Ei, who will forbid me to tell thee that thou hast won the case! May Satan———me if thou hast not won. She loves thee."
Yosef put his trembling hands to his perspiring face.
"But Pelski?" asked he.
"He has not proposed yet."
"Does she know everything about me?"
"Yosef!"
"Speak!"
"She knows nothing. I told her nothing."
Yosef's voice was dull and hoarse when he asked,—
"Why hast thou done me this injustice?"
"I thought that thou wouldst return to her."
Yosef twisted his hands till the fingers were cracking in their joints; Augustinovich's last words fell on him like red-hot coals. Return to her? That was to abandon Helena, and did not conscience itself defend Helena's cause? To return to Lula was to purchase the happiness of a lifetime, but to return to her was to dishonor Helena, to kill her, to become contemptible, to purchase contempt for himself. Oh, misfortune!
In Yosef's soul was taking place that devil's dance of a man with himself. Yosef was dancing with Yosef to the music of that orchestra of passion. Various thoughts, plans, methods, stormed in him; the battle raged along the whole line.
Augustinovich looked at his comrade with a face which was despairingly stupid, and he would have liked, as the saying is, to take himself by his own collar and throw himself out of doors.
All at once some decision was outlined on Yosef's face. The case was lost.
"Augustinovich!"
"What?"
"Thou wilt go this moment to Pani Visberg's and tell Lula that I am going to marry, that the ceremony will take place in a month, and that I never shall return to her, never. Dost understand?"
Augustinovich rose up and went.
Malinka received him in the way known to us. Lula was to hear their conversation from behind the door.
Malinka, full of imaginings from her recent talk with Lula, was gladsome and smiling; she pressed Pan Adam's hand cordially.
But he did not respond with a like cordiality.
"It is well that you have come," said she. "I have much to tell you, much."
"And I too have much to tell, much. I have come as an envoy."
"From Pan Yosef?"
"From Pan Yosef."
"Is he better?"
"He is sick. Has Pelski been here?"
"He has. I have wanted to talk of this."
"I am listening, Panna Malinka."
"He proposed to Lula."
"And what then?"
"She refused him. Oh, Pan Adam, she loves no man but Pan Yosef, she wants to belong to him only. My dear, honest Lula!"
Silence lasted a moment.
Pan Adam's voice quivered when he pronounced the following words deliberately,—
"She will not belong to him."
"Pan Adam!"
"Yosef, according to promise, is going to marry."
This news struck both young ladies like a thunderbolt. For a moment there was deep silence. All at once the door of the adjoining chamber opened. Lula entered the drawing-room.
On her face a blush of offended womanly dignity was playing, in her eyes pride was gleaming. It seemed to her that everything which she held sacred in her heart had been trampled.
"Malinka," cried she, "ask no more, I implore thee! Enough, enough! This gentleman has delivered his message. Why lower one's self by an answer?"
And taking Malinka by the hand, she led her out of the chamber almost with violence.
Augustinovich followed them awhile with his eyes, then nodded a couple of times.
"By the prophet!" said he, "I understand her. She is right, but so is Yosef. Hei! I must fly before everything breaks."
In a moment he ran to Pelski, told him the whole story.
"Some fatality weighed on them," concluded Augustinovich. "Yosef could not act otherwise, could he?"
"He acted as was fitting, but what inchned you to tell me of this?"
"A bagatelle. One question: Did not Lula act nobly in rejecting your hand?"
"I will leave the answer to myself."
"Leave it, my dear sir! The answer is all one to me, Lula is nothing to me; I know only that if my friend withdraws her future will not be enviable, and you are her cousin The case is too bad." Pelski thought awhile.
"Too bad? Ha, what is too bad?"
"That your proposal did not come a little later." Pelski walked with quick step through the room.
"Now, never!" whispered he to himself.
Augustinovich heard this monologue.
"Too late, too late; but—but—now one small request. Tell no one that I was here, especially do not tell Pani Visberg or my friend if ever you see them."
"What is this to your friend?"
"Everything; but you would not understand it, dear count—Till our next meeting!"
Pelski, left alone, meditated long as to how that could really concern Augustinovich. He did not think out any answer, but came to the conviction that it might concern his own self somewhat.
"I might return to her, feigning ignorance of what has happened," said he. "Poor Lula!"