The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [291]
In October, about the time when Matejko finished painting his Battle of Grünwald (a large and showy picture, which should not be exhibited to soldiers who took part in real battles), Maruszewicz — that friend of Baroness Krzeszowska — rushed into the shop. What a change — he’s gone up in the world! He’d a golden charm on his chest or rather on the place where people have stomachs, so thick and long that he might have used it for a dog-collar. A diamond pin in his tie, new gloves, new shoes, and his body (a wretched enough body, goodness knows!) dressed in a new suit. In addition, he looked as though he hadn’t a penny in debts, but paid cash for everything. Klein, who lives in the same house, later explained to me that Maruszewicz plays cards regularly, and has been lucky for some time past.
So in rushed my dandy, with his hat on and an ebony walking-stick in his hand, and after looking around uneasily (he has a rather furtive look), he asked: ‘Is Mr Wokulski here? Ah, Mr Rzecki … A word, I beg.’
We went behind a cupboard. ‘I’m here with excellent news,’ he said, pressing my hand affectionately, ‘you can sell your apartment house, the one the Łęckis used to own … Baroness Krzeszowska will buy it. She has regained her capital by a law-suit against her husband, and (if you want to drive a bargain) she’ll pay ninety thousand roubles, and even something extra to help you leave.’
He must have seen the gratification on my face (the purchase of that house was never to my taste), for he pressed my hand still more fervently — if a live corpse can do anything fervently — and, smiling at me sweetly (I felt nauseated by his sweetness), he began murmuring: ‘I can be of service to you gentlemen … an important service … The Baroness depends very much on my advice, and if …’
Here he was taken with a slight fit of coughing: ‘I understand,’ said I, guessing who I was dealing with, ‘and Mr Wokulski won’t make any difficulties about a bonus …’
‘Come, sir,’ he exclaimed, ‘whatever do you mean? The more so as the Baroness’s attorney will come to you gentlemen with a definite offer. In any case, I’m not concerned. What I have is quite adequate … But I have some poor relatives, to whom you gentlemen may want, on my recommendation, to …’
‘If you please, sir,’ I interrupted, ‘we prefer to place a sum directly into your hands, providing of course that the business goes through.’
‘Oh, it will — I can give you my word,’ Mr Maruszewicz assured me.
But because I didn’t promise him an honorarium, he lurked about the shop for a while, then left, whistling.
Towards evening, I told Staś this: but he defeated me by silence, which made me think. So next day I hurried to our attorney (who is also the Prince’s attorney), and communicated Maruszewicz’s news to him.
‘So she’ll pay ninety thousand?’ said the attorney in surprise (he is a very eminent person), ‘but, my dear Mr Rzecki, apartment houses are going up, and next year they’re going to build some two hundred new ones. In these conditions, my dear Rzecki, we’d be doing her a favour if we sold the house for a hundred thousand. The Baroness is very interested in this apartment house (if one may use that word in connection with such a distinguished lady), and we might get a much larger sum from her, my dear Mr Rzecki.’
I bade farewell to the eminent attorney, and went back to the store, firmly resolved not to interfere in the sale of the apartment house. Not until then did it occur to me that Maruszewicz is a great scoundrel.
Now that I’ve calmed down sufficiently to collect my wits, I’ll describe the repulsive law-suit the Baroness brought against that angel, that perfect lady, Mrs Stawska. If I don’t write it all down, in a year or two I won’t be able to credit my memory that such a monstrous thing could happen.
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