In one of the streets his eye was caught by a shop window exhibiting fire-arms. He entered and bought a double-barrelled pistol. "If I should have the misfortune of falling into his hands," he murmured, "I will at least save myself the worst of ignominy." But a voice in his heart gave him the lie directly. "Coward!" it said; "you would never dare it--never!"

Retribution for this man's crimes had begun before Taras lifted a finger against him, and his just terrors continued--nay, were added to hourly. The mandatar, even in his least cowardly moments, felt the situation to be most critical. While Taras lived, his returning to Zulawce was a movement in the direction of death; and there appeared to be every likelihood of Taras's continuing in life, while the authorities were bent on dealing with him "in due course," as the district governor had taken pains to point out. It seemed highly advisable, then, for Mr. Hajek to keep at a safe distance from Zulawce, and this was tantamount to his retiring from his stewardship, since the peasants, he knew, would never dream of rendering the slightest of their dues, be it tribute or labour, unless the mandatar were bodily present to make them. And if he got into arrears with the monthly payments to the Count, in Paris, this gentleman would not be long in dismissing him, without the least pity for his difficulties. It was preferable, then, to antic.i.p.ate a dismissal. But how to make a living for the future? To be sure, he had improved the stewardship he was about to quit, putting by in that little black box of his a neat sum of several thousand florins in good Austrian securities, although he had never stinted himself of any personal luxury. Should he fall back upon these savings, leaving the country altogether and seeking a berth elsewhere? But in that case, not only this little capital would be endangered, but another and more precious one would also be lost, even the good name he had managed to acquire, and which he hoped to turn into a bait with which to land a fortune one of these days. Nor was this a mere illusion. Mr. Hajek was too sharp-witted to fool himself, and he really had come to enjoy a certain position at Colomea; for he was a man of the world and knew how to ingratiate himself with society, while even his worst enemy must admit he was an adept in the management of landed property. He knew, therefore, to what port he ought to run: he must look out for an heiress and become a landed proprietor himself.

There were several eligible maidens, presumably willing to further his aims, with handsome sums in their pockets, if not Polish coronets on their brows. But all these hopes had vanished now; the successful mandatar might have proffered his suit in such quarters, but never the luckless culprit whose misdeeds had found him out. The one question for him was how to gain time, in order to make the best of his miserable fate.

Thus, by a strange coincidence of circ.u.mstances, the mere announcement of Taras's intentions had sufficed to ruin his enemy effectively; and the under-steward, returning on Tuesday with the precious black casket, found his master deeply dejected. Nor was his news calculated to rouse better hopes. "To tell the truth," said Boleslaw, "I brought away the worst impressions concerning the peasantry. Not an hour's further labour will they yield, and no tribute of any kind. Taras is a hero and a liberator in their eyes; and as for you, sir--I beg your pardon, but it is a fact--they are all delighted at the bare idea that he is going to hang you. I spoke with several of the villagers, and they all said the same thing."

"That will do," said the mandatar, faintly, and motioned him to go.

Left alone, he sank into a chair, and involuntarily put his fingers round his throat. "There must be an end to this!" he cried. "I must shake off this business; I will have nothing more to do with these wretches."

And, going to his desk, he wrote a letter to the Count--it was his resignation. He folded the sheet, and put it into an envelope, which he sealed. But there he stopped, dipping his pen again and again without addressing the missive. "It might be premature after all," he murmured at last, throwing down the quill and s.n.a.t.c.hing up his hat. "I ought not to act rashly, at least not before finding out the opinion of the town."

But if any one wished to know what the world thought at Colomea, he could not do better than repair to a certain wine-cellar, where the "daily news" of the place was almost sure to be present, gossipping away from early morning sometimes till the closing hour at midnight.

This worthy was none other than Mr. Thaddeus de Bazanski, whose vicissitudes in life were a prolific source of entertainment to all the tipplers of the place. Mr. Thaddeus, by his own showing, was a man of consequence; but the jovial company listening to his tales somehow had agreed to call him Thaddy. Now Thaddy's history--of which he was most liberal--was of a curious kind, and never the same for two days running. On a Sunday he would have large possessions in Volhynia; and, being the last of an honourable name, he had fought the Russians gallantly, but was left for dead on the field of battle, after which he made his escape into Galicia. On Mondays he was the son of a Polish officer in French service, who had enjoyed the close friendship of Napoleon, and he had been a cadet at Vincennes; but, turning his back upon his brilliant prospects, he had entered the Polish army for love of his country--the rest being the same as on Sunday. On a Tuesday his name, de Bazanski, was merely an alias for prudence' sake, and he was really the scion of a princely house of Lithuania; but, having quarrelled with his family, who were of Russian tendencies, he had entered the Polish army--the rest the same as on Monday. On Wednesdays he had large possessions in the Ukraine, and in fact all the revolution of 1831 had been carried on with his money. Having been obliged to flee, he joined the Carbonari in Piedmont, and now lived in Galicia in order to be at hand when the great day of revenge should have dawned.

On Thursdays, when the cellars would be specially well filled after the weekly meeting of the local board, Thaddy's history had quite a romantic origin. He was a natural son of Alexander I. and a Polish countess, spending his youth at the Court of St. Petersburg, petted by all, until he did his duty as the son of his mother, standing up boldly before his half-brother Nicolas and demanding of him a grant of liberty for poor Poland. He was refused, and then--the same as on Wednesday. On Fridays, when the place was but indifferently visited, he was just a poor brave n.o.bleman, who had spent the best years of his life for the good of his country, and was ready to do so again; while on the Sat.u.r.day his tale had an anti-semitic tinge. His father, on those days, having been one of the richest landowners of Masovia, had been so foolish as to allow his Jewish tenants to drop into arrears with their rents, till the family was nearly beggared. It was then that Thaddeus showed the stuff he was made of, evicting "those rascally Jews," and making front against the Russians at the same time; and he was now at Colomea endeavouring to work up those sad arrears. To be sure, he never had any success to tell of, but that might be because of his constantly changing his lawyer, who, it was observed, was mentioned by a different name every Sat.u.r.day. For the rest, if any visitor of the cellars ever had forgotten what day of the week it might be, he had but to listen for a moment to Thaddy's tale in order to recover the lost thread of his time.

These varying accounts were calculated to lend an air of distinction to the narrator, but there were some whose shrewdness believed his fame to be spurious, and one or two wicked tongues had even a.s.serted that his features bore a suspicious likeness to a loquacious barber they had known at Warsaw. Thaddy denounced this as a libel, boldly; but it was not so easy to accuse people of calumny when they added that his appearance, somehow, was not of the aristocratic military type! That was true enough, for there was nothing of the heroic about his mean little figure, and those greenish eyes, half cunning, half cowardly, peering away over a coppery nose for any good luck in his way. Of course he always appeared in the national costume; but the 'kantouche'

was peculiarly long and ill-fitting, not because of any eccentric taste of his, but simply because nature had endowed Mr. Bogdan with a figure so utterly different from Thaddy's. His 'confederatka,' however, was his own--one of the strangest head-gears ever worn by mortal man. It probably had been high, stiff, and square originally, but it had collapsed to utter flabbiness, and it could not now be said to be of any colour, having faded to a mixture of all. Thaddy kept a.s.suring his listeners that he wore this article on great anniversaries for the most patriotic of reasons, since it had covered his head at the famous battle of Ostrolenka. It certainly looked ancient enough to have seen even the Napoleonic wars; and if it had many holes, that no doubt was a proof of the many bullets which had threatened the head of its gallant wearer. As for the anniversaries, there were those who pretended to observe that the famous confederatka was seen rather often, in fact quite habitually, on Thaddy's head--but then, the history of Poland is so rich in events, that the year of the piously inclined is one long anniversary naturally.

As for the present employment of this national martyr, it was twofold; he ostensibly waited for the better days of Poland, gaining his livelihood meanwhile by entertaining the customers at the cellars with his gossip, and holding himself in readiness for any business in which an agent might be wanted who was not over squeamish in his views.

When Mr. Hajek, on that Tuesday afternoon, entered the cellars he found Thaddy alone, in his usual corner, sadly occupied with counting the flies on the various pictures adorning the room. He looked up, a gleam of satisfaction shooting across his countenance, and held out his hand, which cordiality, however, the new comer appeared not to observe. "Ha!"

he cried, "what a strange coincidence; here I was just thinking of you, actually! There is a curious likeness between this excellent young man's fate--meaning yourself--and mine, I was saying."

"Indeed!" replied the mandatar, coldly, taking a seat and ordering a bottle of wine. "Between you and me?"

"Yes, unmistakably," cried Mr. de Bazanski, coming nearer and taking his place opposite the mandatar. "A striking likeness in fact. It so occupied my mind that I quite forgot I was thirsty, and, indeed, for the matter of that, I am of too sociable a turn to have a gla.s.s by myself." This was true enough, for Thaddy never had any drink except in company. They knew better at the cellars than to give him anything that was not ordered and paid for by his friends.

Mr. Hajek smiled, requesting the waiter to bring a second gla.s.s. "A striking likeness, you were saying?"

"Most striking, sir, and unmistakable! Just look at me--what is it I have come to? I am an old officer, to be sure, who will give proof yet of the stuff he is made of. But what of this? I was thinking of my happy youth, and how from the battlements of our princely castle in Lithuania I, with a telescope, would scan our broad domain; forty-nine villages I could count, and they all were situated on our lands. Yes, ours was a princely family, and now, alas, I may not even confess to the name I was born to, I----"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted the mandatar; "besides, I was aware that this is Tuesday."

But Thaddy was not the man to be disconcerted. "Of course, this is Tuesday," he a.s.sented, smilingly. "I was going to add--who is to blame that I am a stranger now to my princely heritage, if not my wicked relatives? And who is it that, at the present moment, is a sore trouble to you, if not this wicked peasantry of Zulawce? Is it not a strange and striking similarity?"

"Very striking," said Hajek. "Then you have heard about affairs at Zulawce?"

"Of course I have," cried Bazanski; "why the town is full of it."

And the ex-officer waxed hot with excitement. "You would scarcely believe it," he cried, "but there are those, actually, who take this cut-throat's part against you--respectable people--nay, even Poles, I am ashamed to say!"

"Who, for instance?" inquired the mandatar, apparently unconcerned, but his heart was beating in spite of him.

"Well, there is that old demagogue, who ought to know better, being a lawyer--Dr. Starkowski, I mean--to begin with. This very morning we were sitting here, some twenty of us, and some one started the matter.

My stars, you should have heard him! 'Gentlemen,' he said, quite solemnly, as though he were on his oath, 'I know this Taras; he is the most unselfish, the n.o.blest man I have ever met, and filled with a pa.s.sion for justice which would grace a king. And that this man, with the views he holds, had nothing left but to turn hajdamak, must make every honest man blush for our country. It is my opinion that this n.o.ble-hearted fellow has been morally murdered, and his murderer is the mandatar of Zulawce.' And the others, so far from contradicting him, clamoured for more. 'Tell us, Doctor, tell us all about it,' they cried. And he gave them a long rigmarole of a story about a field, and perjury, and what not; and when he had finished--'Humph,' said the others, 'why, if it is so, Mr. Hajek is just a blackguard.' 'He is,'

affirmed the brazen-faced lawyer. Such is the world!"

"Such--is--- the world!" repeated Hajek, absently, and white as a ghost. It was plain there was nothing left for him now but to make his speedy escape. The laborious edifice of his wickedness was tottering, and threatening to bury him in its ruins. But whither should he turn?

He gazed into his future helplessly....

"Such, indeed, is the world," repeated Bazanski, eagerly; "and there were those present who said--'Dear, dear, it is a mercy to learn that before it is too late!' Those, you understand, who hitherto would have considered you an eligible son-in-law--conceited fools!--as if you ever would have looked at any of their daughters--you, whose heart is adamant even to a countess."

Hajek turned to him with a start, his face flushing crimson. He had racked his brain for a way out of his plight, but had forgotten all about this possibility, in his very grasp if he chose! Three different estates in the lowlands, beyond the reach of Taras--what a splendid match to be sure! If he married the countess he need not give another thought to his master in Paris, nor to that wretch of an "avenger," nor yet to all the respectable folk at Colomea. And this grandest of chances had almost escaped him!

"Well," cried the wily Thaddeus, "I do like your pretending to be taken by surprise; as if you did not know how desperately the amiable Countess Wanda is in love with you." And he began to describe the secret pa.s.sion of that lady with such glowing colours, that any writer of love sonnets might have envied him. "And there is her great fortune besides," he said, in conclusion; "but that is a mere accessory. First love, and then the practical advantages."

Mr. Hajek had recovered himself. "Don't talk rubbish," he said, sharply. "The countess is not likely to love me, being too--too experienced to make a fool of herself; and, besides, I am an utter stranger to her. If she intends to marry me it is simply because she is in want of a husband, and if I take her it will be because it happens to suit me. So it is a clear case of the practical advantage first and foremost; that settled, there may be love, for all I care. What about the property and the settlement? I daresay you have been instructed....

I don't want any flourishes; just let me know the facts."

Thaddeus de Bazanski was of an adaptable nature. "Just the facts! Yes, certainly," he said. "There are three estates, as you know--Horkowka, Drinkowce, and Rossow--quite unenc.u.mbered--will fetch in the market half a million florins any day; the personal property, besides, amounting to one hundred thousand florins in first-rate securities."

"Very well; and now for the conditions."

"The Rossow estate, on your marriage, will be settled on the countess, of course, but you will have equal rights to the revenues for your life; Horkowka, in reversion, on the countess alone; while Drinkowce and the floating capital will be settled on--on---" Bazanski stammered and blushed.

"On the lady's child by her first marriage--I understand," said Hajek quietly. "But now for my conditions! I am quite agreed concerning Rossow and Horkowka; but the boy has to be provided for out of the personal property solely, while Drinkowce must be settled on me absolutely. It shall be mine, whether there be any offspring of the marriage or not; and it is to remain mine even in the event of a dissolution."

"Humph! old Bogdan is no fool!"

"Quite sure of that; but neither am I! When shall I look for an answer?"

"To-morrow at noon. Shall we have another bottle now on the strength of the prospects?"

"No, not now; go and make sure of the prospects. Good evening to you."

Bazanski gazed after the retreating figure with positive awe. "Ugh!" he said at length, with a deep breath of admiration, "they were not far wrong this morning. What a villain! what an incomparable villain!"

And, having thus unburdened his mind, he hastened away to the Villa Antoniewicz....

At noon punctually the following day he presented himself again to Mr.

Hajek. "I have come to congratulate you!" he cried on the threshold.

"Well, has your patron accepted my conditions?"

"Entirely--excepting only Drinkowce. He is very sorry, but his little grandson----"

"Very well, that settles it. Excuse me, but I am busy, intending to start to-night."

"Start! whereto?"

"To--anywhere, so long as it is far enough from here."

"Then do not be in such a hurry! Let me have another word with the family."

"Very well. I will give you till to-morrow, but I cannot be detained beyond that."

Thaddy departed on his errand sadly, there was little hope of earning his pay. He was almost certain that Herr von Antoniewicz would prove unyielding; but it turned out differently. The Countess, in the first place, chose to p.r.o.nounce in the intended bridegroom's favour. "He is good-looking; tolerably young, of good manners, and sufficiently a man of the world not to annoy me with any prejudice!" Her father arrived at a similar conclusion. "The fellow is of suitable stuff to manage the estates; whether Drinkowce be his or not, it will be his interest to pull along with us. I am old now, and cannot wait till as great a b.o.o.by as your first husband may chance to turn up as a suitor for your hand.

I would prefer an honest b.o.o.by, of course; but a clever villain meanwhile must not be despised. He shall not do _me_. I'll take care of that!"

And the following morning, Thaddeus, with a beaming face, burst into the mandatar's presence. "Now I may congratulate you really," he cried.