The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [248]
‘Some fine rumours are circulating about me, to be sure,’ thought Wokulski, looking at the heap of papers.
In the street, too, whenever he had time to notice, he realised he was the object of general interest. Many persons bowed to him; sometimes complete strangers pointed to him as he passed; but there were also some who turned away their heads with obvious dislike. Among them he noticed two acquaintances from Irkutsk, which impressed him in a disagreeable manner.
‘What are they up to?’ he thought, ‘have they gone crazy?’
On the day after his return to Warsaw, he replied to Suzin that he accepted the offer, and would go to Moscow in mid-October. Late that evening he left for the Duchess’s estate, which lay a few miles from the recently constructed railroad.
He noticed at the railroad station that here, too, his person attracted attention. The station master introduced himself and ordered a separate compartment for him; the chief conductor, showing him to his seat, said that he intended to find him a comfortable place where he might sleep, work or talk without interruption.
After a long delay, the train slowly moved off. It was already deep night, no moon and no clouds, and there were more stars in the sky than usual. Wokulski opened the window and eyed the constellations. Siberian nights came to his mind, when the sky was usually almost pitch black, strewn with stars like a snowstorm, where the Little Bear moved almost overhead, while Pegasus, Hercules and the Heavenly Twins shone lower on the horizon than in his country. ‘Could I, a clerk in Hopfer’s, have known anything of astronomy,’ he thought bitterly, ‘if I had not been there? And should I have heard anything of Geist’s discoveries if Suzin had not forced me to go to Paris?’
And he saw with his inner eye his own long and unusual life, which seemed to extend from the far east to the far west: ‘Everything I know, everything I have, everything I can still achieve, does not come from here. Here I have found only humiliation, envy or applause of dubious value when I was successful: if I had not been successful, those who bow to me today would have trampled me underfoot.’
‘I will leave here,’ he whispered, ‘I’ll go away! Unless she prevents me … For what will my fortune give me, if I cannot use it to suit myself? What is the value of a life spent decaying between the club, my store and drawing-rooms where one has to play whist to avoid gossip, or gossip to avoid playing whist?
‘I wonder,’ he said to himself after a moment, ‘why the Duchess invited me so pointedly? Perhaps it was on Izabela’s account?’ He felt hot and slowly sensed a change take place in his soul. He recalled his father and uncle, Kasia Hopfer, who so loved him, Rzecki, Leon, Szuman, the prince, and many many others, who had shown him proof of undoubted goodwill. What was all his education and wealth worth if he were not surrounded by kindly hearts; what use would Geist’s greatest discovery be if it were not to prove a weapon which would ensure the final victory to a better and nobler race? …
‘There is much for us to do,’ he whispered. ‘There are people among us whom it would be worth helping or strengthening … I am too old to make epoch-making discoveries, let the Ochockis of this world occupy themselves with that … I prefer to augment others’ happiness and to find happiness myself …’
He closed his eyes, and seemed to see Izabela looking at him in that strange way which was hers alone, approving his intentions with a tranquil smile.
Someone knocked at the compartment door, and the chief conductor appeared, saying: ‘Baron Dalski is wondering whether he might join you. He is travelling in this carriage.’
‘The Baron?’ Wokulski asked, in surprise, ‘of course, ask him to step this way …’
The conductor withdrew and closed the door. Wokulski