The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [172]
It seemed to him that barred windows, grey damp walls and suspended handcuffs would be much more appropriate to a court-room in which people were sentenced to everlasting or at least lifelong imprisonment.
But here was the main court-room, into which all the Hebrews were hastening, and where the whole business of the auction was concentrated. It was such a large room that forty people might have danced a mazurka in it — were it not for the low barrier which divided it into two sections, for civil cases and for auctions. In the civil portion were carved benches, in the auction part was a platform, with a table on it, circular and covered with green baize. Behind the table Ignacy saw three officials with chains around their necks and senatorial dignity on their faces: they were the auctioneers. In front of each official lay a heap of documents concerning the properties for sale. Between the table and barrier, immediately in front of the latter, was a crowd of would-be buyers. All had their heads raised and were gazing at the officials with a spiritual absorption that inspired ascetics gazing at a holy vision might have envied.
Although the windows were open, a smell midway between the scent of hyacinths and aged putty prevailed in the court. Ignacy guessed it was the smell of Jewish gabardines.
Except for the rattle of droshkies, it was quite quiet in the court-room. The auctioneers were silent, absorbed in their documents, the buyers equally silent, gazing at the auctioneers: the remainder of the public, gathered in the civilian portion of the hall and separated into groups, was certainly murmuring, but softly. It was not in their own interests to be overheard.
Consequently the groan of Baroness Krzeszowska sounded all the louder as, clutching her lawyer by the lapel of his frock-coat, she cried feverishly: ‘Do not leave me, I beg you! I’ll pay you anything you ask …’
‘Please, Baroness — no threats,’ replied the lawyer.
‘I’m not threatening you in the least, but don’t leave me,’ the Baroness exclaimed with genuine feeling.
‘I’ll come back for the auction, but just now I have to go to my murderer …’
‘So! A wretched murderer arouses more of your sympathy than a deserted woman, whose property, honour, peace of mind …’
The importuned lawyer fled so fast that his trousers looked even shinier around the knees than they really were. The Baroness began to run after him, but at this moment she fell into the embrace of an individual who wore very green spectacles and had the countenance of a sacristan.
‘Dear lady, what is wrong?’ the individual in green spectacles asked sweetly, ‘no lawyer vill inflate the price of your house … That is vat I am here for. Gif me one per cent for every thousand roubles over the initial sum, and tventy roubles for expenses …’
The Baroness Krzeszowska started away from him and, recoiling like an actress in a tragic role, uttered a single word: ‘Satan!’ The individual in green spectacles realised he had missed the boat and withdrew in discomfiture. At the same time, his path was crossed by a second individual with the features of a confirmed scoundrel, who whispered to him for a few moments, making very lively gestures. Ignacy was certain these two gentlemen would come to blows, but they parted quite peaceably and the individual who looked a scoundrel drew near the Baroness Krzeszowska and said in a low voice: ‘If the Baroness is not careful, we may even not let the price reach seventy thousand …’
‘My saviour!’ cried the Baroness, ‘you see before you a wronged and deserted female, whose property, honour and peace of mind …’
‘What’s honour to me?’ said the individual with the visage of a scoundrel, ‘will you give me ten roubles deposit?’
Both went off into the furthest corner of the room and were lost to Ignacy’s gaze behind a group of Hebrews. In the group were old Szlangbaum and a young, beardless