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Gerwazy shuddered, he had recognised the Pantler; he began to cross himself, and, the more surely to drive away his terrible visions, he recited the litany for souls in Purgatory.
A strange grief pinned me to the earth! Why, Gerwazy, ah why did you miss at that time? You would have done me a kindness!—evidently as a penance for my sin I must needs——” Here his breath failed him once more. “God knows,” said the Warden, “I sincerely wished to hit you! How much blood did you shed by your one shot!
They checked themselves; Gerwazy slowly retired and vanished from sight; they looked to see where he had hidden himself beneath the table, when suddenly he came out on the other side as if from under the earth, and, raising aloft a bench in his strong arms, whirled round like a windmill and cleared half the hall.
“Yes, yes, my dear Protazy,” said Gerwazy the Warden. “Yes, yes, my dear Gerwazy,” said Protazy the Apparitor. “Yes, yes indeed,” they repeated in unison over and over again, nodding their heads in time to the words; finally the Apparitor spoke:— “That our lawsuit has a strange conclusion I do not deny; however, there are precedents.
But as a surgeon first lays a gentle hand on the body of a sick man before he makes a cut with the knife, so Robak softened the expression of his sharp eyes, which he allowed to hover for a long time over the eyes of Gerwazy; finally, as if he wished to strike a blind blow, he covered his eyes with his hand and said with a powerful voice:— “I am Jacek Soplica.”
And so, at a signal given from the kitchen, the army unexpectedly dispersed for foraging. Gerwazy, repulsed from the Judge’s rooms, had to retire, out of regard for the Count’s watchmen. So, not being able to take vengeance on his enemy, he bethought himself of the second great aim of this expedition.
When once I seize from the Soplicas the castle of my ancestors, I will establish you within its walls as my burgrave: your tale, Gerwazy, has mightily affected me. I regret that you did not lead me here at the hour of midnight; draped in my cloak I should have sat upon the ruins and you would have told me of bloody deeds. I regret that you have no great gift of narration!
The Pantler, seeing his enemies in confusion, thought of making a sally; he seized his sabre, and, shouting from the balcony, gave orders to the servants; turning to me he said: ‘Follow me, Gerwazy!’ At that instant there was a shot from behind the gate; the Pantler’s speech faltered, he turned red, turned pale, tried to speak, spat blood.
But meanwhile the gentry had rallied to the Count. They went to the tavern; Gerwazy called to mind the days of old, and bade them give him three Polish girdles, by means of which he drew from the vaults of the tavern three casks, one of mead, the second of brandy, and the third of beer.
They passed through several rooms; Gerwazy in silence now fixed his gaze on the wall and now on the vaulted ceiling, recalling now a sad and now a pleasant memory; sometimes, as though he would say, “All is over,” he bowed his head in sorrow; sometimes he waved his hand—evidently even recollection was a torture to him and he wished to drive it off.
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