She hurriedly tried to arrange the truant strand. Simeon only laughed. He bent over her and kissed the discoloration.
The days hurried along. The foundation for the count’s palace was nearing completion. It was almost time to lay the cornerstone.
Lavinia found her barrier crumbling. Long had she kept it impregnable to dukes and princes. A dashing, impecunious architect had undermined it. She could not repel the attention of Simeon any longer. She admitted that his impulsive manner and tempestuous lovemaking captivated her. She laughed when he told her that he would bring the priest to marry them.
They were not empty words. Simeon came one afternoon. The priest was with him. Lavinia turned white. Her voice trembled.
“Simeon Lavkovich—I can’t—oh, I can’t marry you—I can’t—I can’t!”
“But surely, my adored one, you will not refuse me! My love for you is like a fire. It is eating my soul away, and if you will not accept me I shall most certainly die of its burning. Tell me, at least, why it is you remain so cold to the blazing adoration of my love.”
“Yes, yes, I—I will tell you.” She wavered, then impetuously continued, “Oh, Simeon, I love you—”
The words filled him with a wild joy. He crushed her hard against him. His fervid kisses covered her neck and cheeks. Long they clung to the fullness of her lips. Those words had never before left her mouth. They fed the fire in his soul.
“Oh, my blessed one, my Lavinia, say no more. Come, let us be married. And, after the ceremony, if you wish, you can tell me what is troubling you. I am wild with happiness. You have made me insanely happy, my Lavinia.”
He rushed out to call the priest and two friends who acted as witnesses. The charming Lavinia sank into a chair. She struggled to hold herself together. It was a severe trial, this marriage ceremony. Her only words to him were, “And Simeon, you ’ll not reproach me, you shall love me for all time—always, even though—”
“Hush, my dearest, even in eternity I shall adore you.”
So they were married.
That day Simeon Lavkovich’s star fell. He became a different man. Some said he had lost his reason. People marveled at the cruel reverse Lavkovich displayed. The serfs, a superstitious lot, had always doubted Lavinia. Now they became more bold and voiced their belief. Surely, the beautiful Lavinia had bewitched Simeon Lavkovich.
The young man began to drink heavily. His behavior terrified the natives. His despotic commandeering over the workmen became unbearable. They protested to Daramkoff. He listened, and came down to watch Simeon at work. In another day, Simeon was replaced by another capable man to complete the mansion.
The day for laying the cornerstone of the count’s castle arrived. Kravetz and the surrounding country long anticipated this event, chiefly because a barbarous custom was to be enacted. It was the burying alive of a member of the female sex to fulfil the belief that “the living, quivering body of a girl would knit together the walls of the great building and preserve it against disaster in the future.”
Count Daramkoff suggested that one day be devoted to volunteering. In the event a virgin did not offer herself as the victim of this sacrifice to a mass of stones, a married woman would be acceptable. On the other hand, if no volunteers appeared, all women of the village would be set in line and a committee would select the fairest ten. From this final group, the fatal choice would be made.
