The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [188]
But when Wokulski had gone in, he pushed and tumbled the Jews out, with ‘Begone, Yids! Begone!’
‘Ah! Ah! Why so angry, sir?’ the Jews muttered, very embarrassed. Tomasz greeted Wokulski with emotion; his hands were trembling slightly, so was his head. ‘Well, look here,’ he said, ‘what these Jews get up to! They besiege our house … they alarm my daughter …’
‘I have told them to come to my office at six and, with your permission, will then settle their bills. Is it a large sum?’ Wokulski asked.
‘Almost nothing … a matter of some five or six thousand roubles …’
‘Five or six thousand?’ Wokulski echoed, ‘do you owe so much to those three?’
‘No. I owe them some two thousand, perhaps a trifle more. But I must tell you, Stanisław (for this is the whole point) that last March someone bought my promissory notes. Who was it? That I don’t know: however, I should like to be ready for all eventualities.’
Wokulski’s face brightened: ‘Pay off your debts,’ he replied, ‘as the creditors apply to you. Today we will dispose of those who have promissory notes dated later. So it amounts to two or three thousand?’
‘Yes, yes … but, Stanisław, what confounded bad luck! You are to pay me five thousand for six months … Were you good enough to bring the money?’
‘Of course.’
‘I am indeed grateful. But what confounded bad luck that just now, when Bela and I and … and you … were to go to Paris, the Jews should seize two thousand from me. Of course Paris is out of the question?’
‘How so?’ Wokulski said, ‘I’ll pay what is owing and you need not touch your interest. You may go to Paris without hesitation.’
‘Splendid of you,’ Tomasz exclaimed, embracing him, ‘for you see, my dear fellow,’ he added, calming down, ‘I was just wondering whether you couldn’t obtain a loan for me somewhere, for paying off the Jewish debts at — say — seven or perhaps six per cent?’
Wokulski smiled at the financial naiveté of Tomasz: ‘Of course,’ he said, unable to control his good humour, ‘you will get the loan. We’ll repay some three thousand to the Jews and you’ll pay the interest. How much would you like to pay?’
‘Seven per cent — perhaps six …’
‘Very well,’ said Wokulski, ‘you will pay a hundred and eight roubles interest and the capital will remain untouched.’
Tomasz, for the hundredth time at least, began blinking and tears appeared again: ‘Noble soul! Noble!’ he said, embracing Wokulski, ‘God has sent you …’
‘Do you think I could do otherwise?’ Wokulski murmured.
There was a knock. Mikołaj entered and announced the physicians: ‘Ah,’ Tomasz exclaimed, ‘my sister sent them. My God, I have never yet been doctored, but today … Please, Stanisław, go to Bela now. Mikołaj, announce Mr Wokulski to your mistress.’
‘This is my reward … my life!’ Wokulski thought, following Mikołaj. In the vestibule he met the doctors, both known to him, and warmly recommended Tomasz to their care.
Izabela awaited him in the drawing-room. She was a trifle pale, but all the more beautiful. He greeted her and said cheerfully: ‘I was very pleased that you liked the wreath for Rossi …’
He stopped. He was struck by the peculiar expression on Izabela’s face, as she looked at him with some slight surprise as though she had never seen him before.
For a moment both were silent, then Izabela flicked a particle of dust from her ash-coloured gown and asked: ‘So it was you who bought our house?’
Wokulski was so taken aback that for the first few moments he could not utter a word. It was as though his mind had stopped working. He turned pale, then reddened, and finally regained enough sense to reply in a stifled voice: ‘Yes, I did.’
‘Why did you put up a Jew to outbid?’
‘Why?’ Wokulski echoed, gazing at her like a frightened child, ‘why? I am a tradesman, you see … and locking up capital may damage my credit …’
‘You have been interesting yourself in our affairs for a long time. It seems to me that in April … you acquired our dinner-service?’ Izabela said in the same tone.
This tone sobered Wokulski, he looked up and replied drily: ‘Your dinner-service is at your disposal at any