The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [325]
“‘Well, and what have you to say to this?” cries Maruszewicz.
“‘I must file a report,” says the bailiff, “besides, they’re moving out, so maybe it isn’t worth interrupting ’em.” Then — another spectacle. A chair appears in the open window on the third floor, with Patkiewicz sitting on it, his two colleagues give him a push and — young Patkiewicz comes riding down in the chair on ropes! At this point, the bailiff came over faint, and one of the policemen crossed himself.
“‘He’ll break his neck!” cry the women, “goodness gracious, may Heaven protect him!” Maruszewicz, being a nervous man, took refuge with the Baroness, and meanwhile the chair and Patkiewicz stop at the second floor, at the Baroness’s window.
“‘Enough of these larks, young gents!” cries the bailiff to Patkiewicz’s two colleagues, who were lowering him.
“‘Can’t be done! The ropes are giving way!” they cry.
“‘Watch out, Patkiewicz,” shouts Maleski, up above. There’s a terrible scene in the yard. The women (more than one being extremely interested in Patkiewicz’s health) start shrieking, the policemen froze stiff, and the bailiff loses his head entirely: “Climb on the parapet! Break the window!” he shouts to Patkiewicz.
‘Your Patkiewicz didn’t have to be told twice. So he begins knocking on the Baroness’s window in such a way that Maruszewicz not only opened the ventilator, but dragged the lad into the room himself. Even the Baroness runs up in alarm, and says to Patkiewicz: “Good God! Why did you have to play such a prank?” “Otherwise I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of bidding farewell to you, dear lady,” Patkiewicz replied, and — so I hear — he displays to her such a dead body, that the old girl tumbled over on the floor, crying out: “Will no one defend me? Are there no men? I need a man! … A man! …”
‘She shrieked so loud that she could be heard all over the yard, and the bailiff misconstrued her cries, for he said to the policemen: “Oh, that poor lady has been took badly … Poor thing, she’s been separated two years from her husband.”
‘Patkiewicz, being a medical man, felt the Baroness’s pulse, prescribed valerian drops and left, calm as you please. Meanwhile, the carpenter had set about breaking down the English latch. When he’d finished and quite ruined the door, Maleski suddenly recollected that both keys to the lock and the latch were in his own pocket.
‘Hardly had the Baroness come to her senses, than the lawyer began trying to persuade her to start a case against Patkiewicz and Maleski. But the old girl was already so disgusted with court cases that she merely berated her adviser, and vowed that from then on she would never rent an apartment to students, not even if it had to stand empty for ages.
‘Then, so they told me, she began, with a great deal of crying, to implore Maruszewicz to persuade the Baron to beg for her forgiveness and move into the apartment again: “I know he hasn’t a penny,” she sobbed, “he’s not paying his rent, and is living on credit along with that footman of his. Nevertheless, I will forgive all and pay his debts, providing he changes his ways and comes home. I can’t cope with a house like this without a man … I’ll die within a year …”
‘I see God’s punishment in this,’ Wirski concluded, puffing out cigar smoke, ‘and the instrument of punishment will be the Baron.’
‘And the second tale?’ I inquired.
‘The second is shorter, but more interesting. Just imagine sir, the Baroness Krzeszowska paid a visit to Mrs Stawska yesterday.’
‘Oh, confound it!’ I murmured, ‘that’s a bad sign.’
‘Not at all,’ said Wirski. ‘The Baroness went to Mrs Stawska’s, burst into tears, had an attack of hysteria and asked both the ladies, almost on her knees, to forget the trial over that doll, for otherwise she’d have no peace to the end of her days.’
‘So they promised to forget it?’
‘Not only that, but they kissed