The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [347]
Mrs Wąsowska fidgeted on the cushions of her carriage: ‘Oh, my dear man, only too clear! But what would you say if Bela’s coquetry were merely an innocent revenge, or rather, a warning?’
‘To whom?’
‘You. After all, you’re continually preoccupied with Mrs Stawska.’
‘I? Who says so?’
‘Suppose there are witnesses—Baroness Krzeszowska, Mr Maruszewicz…’
Wokulski put his hands to his head: ‘And you believe that…?’
‘No, because Ochocki assured me there’s nothing in it: but whether anyone could calm Bela in such a fashion, and whether she can put up with it, is another matter.’
Wokulski took her hand. ‘Dear madam,’ he murmured, ‘I withdraw everything I’ve said on Molinari’s account. I swear to you that I honour Izabela, and that my ill-judged words are my greatest misfortune…Only now do I realise what I permitted myself, by saying that…’
He was so upset that Mrs Wąsowska couldn’t help being sorry for him. ‘Come, now,’ she said, ‘pray calm yourself, and don’t exaggerate. On my word of honour (though it’s been said that women have no honour), I assure you that what we have been talking about will remain between ourselves. Besides, I’m certain that even Bela would forgive you that outburst. It was unworthy of you, but…a lover can be forgiven such things.’
Wokulski kissed both her hands, but she tore them away. ‘Pray don’t make up to me, because a man in love is an altar to a woman…And now, be off with you to Bela, and…’
‘And what, madam?’
‘And admit that I know how to keep my promises.’
Her voice trembled, but Wokulski did not notice. He jumped out of the carriage, and hastened to the apartment house occupied by Mr Łęcki, where they had just stopped. When Mikołaj opened the door, he asked to be announced to Miss Łęcka. She was alone, and at once asked him in, blushing and embarrassed. ‘You haven’t been to see us for so long,’ she said, ‘were you ill?’
‘Worse, madam,’ he replied, without taking a seat, ‘I offended you deeply for no reason.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, I offended you with my suspicions. I…’ he said in a stifled voice, ‘I was at the concert the Rzezuchowskis gave. I left without even bidding you goodnight…I can’t say more…I only feel that you have the right to refuse to receive me, as a man who did not appreciate you…who dared to suspect…’
Izabela looked deeply into his eyes and, stretching out a hand, said: ‘I forgive you. Pray be seated.’
‘Do not be hasty with your forgiveness, it may raise my hopes.’
She reflected: ‘Goodness, how can I help that? Pray have your hopes, if you are so eager to…’
‘Can you say that, Izabela?’
‘Evidently it was predestined,’ she replied with a smile.
He kissed her hand passionately and she did not prevent him. Then he went to the window and took something from around his neck. ‘Pray accept this from me,’ he said, and gave her a golden medallion on a chain. Izabela began examining it with curiosity. ‘A strange gift, is it not?’ said Wokulski, opening the medallion. ‘Do you see this metal, light as a spider-web? Yet it’s a jewel such as no treasury possesses, the seed of a great invention which may change humanity. Who knows that airships may not be born from it? But no matter. In giving it to you, I am placing my future in your hands.’
‘So it is a talisman?’
‘Very nearly. It’s something which might draw me away from this country, and engulf my fortune and the rest of my life in new work. Perhaps it would be a waste of time, lunacy, but in any case, the thought of it was your only rival. The only one…’ he repeated with emphasis.
‘Did you think of leaving us?’
‘No longer ago than this morning. That’s why I’m giving you the amulet. Henceforward, madam, I have no other happiness in the world; all that is left to me is you—or death.’
‘If that be so, I take you into captivity,’ said Izabela, and she suspended the medallion around her neck. But when she went to thrust