The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [254]
‘I give you my word I shall kill you if you have an upset.’
‘That remains to be seen,’ Ochocki replied.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, did you hear that?’ the widow cried, ‘is there no one to take my part?’
‘I’ll be revenged for you,’ put in Starski in rather faulty Polish, ‘let the two of us move into the carriage.’
The pretty widow shrugged, the Baron again kissed his fiancée’s hands, and Felicja blushed. Wokulski glanced at the fiancée. She noticed him, replied with a glance of scorn and suddenly changed from profound misery to childish merriment. She gave the Baron her hand for more kissing, and even touched him accidently with her foot. Her admirer was so excited that he turned pale and his lips grew livid.
‘But you have no idea of how to drive!’ the widow cried, trying to poke Ochocki with the tip of her parasol. At this moment Wokulski jumped out. At the same time, the first pair of horses turned into the middle of the road, the other pair after them, and the brake tilted violently to the left. Wokulski held it up and the horses, reined in by a courier, stopped.
‘Didn’t I tell you that monster would upset us?’ the widow cried. ‘What next, Mr Starski?’
Wokulski looked into the brake, and saw this momentary scene: Felicja was shaking with laughter, Starski had fallen face downwards on the pretty widow’s lap, the Baron was clutching the courier and his fiancée, pale with fright, had seized hold of the box with one hand and Starski’s arm with the other.
The brake righted itself in the twinkling of an eye, and everything went back to its proper place. Only Felicja was still shrieking with laughter.
‘I don’t understand, Fela, how you can laugh at a moment like this,’ exclaimed the fiancée.
‘Why not? Nothing terrible could happen. After all, Mr Wokulski is riding with us,’ said the young lady. However, she recollected herself and, blushing still more, first hid her face in both hands, then peeped at Wokulski as much as to say she was very offended.
‘As for me, I am prepared to subscribe to several accidents like that,’ Starski cried, looking significantly at the widow.
‘On condition I am protected from proofs of your feelings,’ replied the widow, frowning and taking the place opposite Wokulski.
‘Come now, you yourself said today that widows are permitted everything.’
‘But widows do not permit everything. No, Mr Starski, you must unlearn those Japanese customs.’
‘They are universal customs,’ Starski replied.
‘Not of the half of the world I am used to,’ the widow interrupted, grimacing and looking at the road.
Silence fell in the brake. The Baron was twirling his grizzled moustache with relish, and his fiancée became miserable again. Felicja, having taken the widow’s seat next to Wokulski, almost turned her back on him, casting scornful and melancholy glances at him from time to time. Why? He did not know.
‘I expect you ride well,’ Mrs Wąsowska said to Wokulski.
‘What makes you think so?’
‘Oh come — please answer my question.’
‘Not very well, but I ride.’
‘I am sure you ride well, for you instantly divined what the horses would do in the hands of such a master as Julian. We’ll ride together … Mr Ochocki, from today I excuse you from riding with me.’
‘I am very pleased to hear it,’ Ochocki retorted.
‘Oh, what a charming way to answer a lady!’ cried Felicja.
‘I’d sooner answer them than ride out with them. When Mrs Wąsowska and I last went riding, I fell off my horse six times in two hours, and wasn’t easy for five minutes together. Let Mr Wokulski try now.’
‘Fela, tell that person I am not speaking to him,’ exclaimed the widow, pointing to Ochocki.
‘Young man,’ said Fela, ‘this lady refuses to speak to you. She says you are common.’
‘What! Now you yearn for the company of men with nice manners?’ asked Starski, ‘pray try, perhaps I’ll let myself be induced to apologise.’
‘When did you leave Paris?’ the widow asked Wokulski.
‘A week tomorrow.’
‘And to think I haven’t been there for four months … It’s my favourite