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Updated: May 23, 2025
Tiralla tramped as he crossed the fields, were thawed, and lumps of soft earth clung to his boot-soles. He had lost his way; he could not get any further. "Psia krew!" He stumbled, cursed, and scolded, and then he laughed. He felt that he had drunk too much oho, he would never be so drunk that he couldn't feel what he had been up to. But to be a little drunk was a very useful thing now and then.
The truth was that when Marianna stole out of bed in order to go to her lover, the child would sit up in bed and call out, "Where are you going, Marianna?" and there was such a strange note of reproach and admonition in her voice, that the girl shuddered and did not venture to go to Jendrek. How had the child found it out? So Mrs. Tiralla had her bed brought up to her daughter's room.
I shouldn't think of such a thing," protested Mrs. Tiralla, trying to conciliate her. "Just come here. Give me your hand." "Oh, no, no! I am sure Pani will hit me." "Give me your hand, I say at once. I'm not going to do anything to you, stupid. Marianna, where are you?" Beautiful Mrs. Tiralla now seemed to be seized with real terror a terror that was much more genuine than before.
She shook her head energetically as she answered: "I won't have one." He saw he would never attain his object in that way. Although Mr. Tiralla hated getting up he soon saw that he would have to squeeze himself down beside her behind the table or drag her out by main force. And then if she cried out, that lovely little dove, "Go away!
"So you've really shown yourself again?" she said. "Why have you come to-day? What do you want?" "Mr. Tiralla was in the carriage I met him," he said with difficulty. He stood before her with bent head, as though he were a miserable sinner. She was half beside herself with anger when she saw him standing like that. Such a wretched coward, and a liar to boot.
The angels in heaven, with your guardian angel at their head, are shouting, 'Hallelujah'." Mr. Tiralla mumbled something unintelligible. Rosa did not hear it; she heard nothing more, for her soul had taken wings and flown out of the stifling room. God had heard her, the Lord was with her.
Tiralla had shrunk back into herself again in a sudden fit of shyness. But she could not bear to keep silent, she simply longed to speak to somebody about it all. If only she could dared say to him, "In a secret chamber of the loft there stands an old chest, and in that old chest I've hidden something." But then if he should say, "Poison!" and should shudder with horror when he said it?
It was nicely done up in striped tissue paper with a piece of red string round it. She had screamed and let the box fall on the table. "There, you see, now you're afraid of it as well," said Mr. Tiralla. How little he knew her. She and fear? "How am I to prepare it? How am I to prepare it?" she cried in an eager voice. He showed her how.
It hurt, and his rough fingers first left a white, then a burning red mark; but she put up with it in silence. No, the gospodarz wasn't angry. All at once Marianna thought that her master was to be pitied. She drew a little nearer to him and threw him a glance full of promise from under her half-closed lids. If the old man wanted she was quite willing. But Tiralla had only eyes for his wife.
It was no pleasure to him to get drunk with that fellow. If he were to ask to be removed and left the neighbourhood, and never more put his foot inside the door at Starydwór? Let Mr. Tiralla drink himself to death, alone. But if he were never to see this woman again? The fresh air in the yard cooled his brow as he stepped out of the house. "Ah!" He drew a deep breath; air, thank God.
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