The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [415]
‘The priest advised me to inscribe this on the cross:
non omnis moriar
so people may know that although the old Castle, an ancient monument, fell into ruins, yet not all has perished and still a great deal remains for our grandchildren to see …’
‘So Wokulski was in this country!’ cried Rzecki, comforted, and he sent for the doctor, asking him to come over at once. Within fifteen minutes Szuman appeared. He read the letter twice, and gazed in astonishment at the enlivened features of Rzecki. ‘What have you to say to that?’ asked Rzecki, triumphantly.
Szuman was still more astonished. ‘What have I to say?’ he repeated. ‘Why, what I predicted to Wokulski, even before his departure for Bulgaria, has come to pass. It’s clear, after all, that Staś killed himself in Zasław.’
Rzecki laughed aloud.
‘But pray consider, Ignacy,’ said the doctor, controlling his emotion with difficulty, ‘just think: he was seen in Dąbrowa, buying dynamite, then he was seen in the vicinity of Zasławek, then in Zasław itself. I think something must have happened between him and that … that accursed woman, in the Castle. For he once mentioned to me that he’d like to sink into the earth as deeply as the Zasław well.’
‘If he’d wanted to kill himself, he could have done so long ago. Besides, a revolver would have sufficed, not dynamite,’ Rzecki answered.
‘He has killed himself … But he was a crazy fool in all respects, and a revolver wasn’t enough. He needed a railroad train … Suicides can be choosy, I know that!’
Rzecki shook his head and laughed again.
‘What the devil do you think, then?’ asked the impatient Szuman. ‘Do you have some other hypothesis?’
‘I do. Staś was quite simply tortured by the Castle and its associations, so he wanted to destroy it just as Ochocki destroyed his Greek grammar after overworking. It is also a reply to the young woman, who apparently used to go into the ruins to mope …’
‘That would be childish! A man of forty-six doesn’t behave like a schoolboy.’
‘It’s a matter of temperament,’ Rzecki replied coolly. ‘Some men send back keepsakes, he blew his into smithereens. Though it’s a pity his Dulcinea wasn’t among the rubble.’
The doctor reflected: ‘A crazy fool! And where can he be, if he’s still alive?’
‘At this moment he is travelling light-heartedly. And he doesn’t write, because obviously he is sick of the lot of us,’ concluded Ignacy, more quietly. ‘Besides, if he’d perished, some traces would have remained.’
‘Well, I won’t swear that you may not be right, although I don’t believe it,’ Szuman muttered. He shook his head sadly and said: ‘Romantics must die out, that’s clear: today’s world isn’t for them. Common sense means we don’t believe either in the angelic nature of women, nor in the possibility of ideals. Anyone who doesn’t see this must perish or give way of his own accord. But what style he had!’ he concluded. ‘He died under the ruins of feudalism! He perished so that the very earth shook … An interesting type, very!’
Suddenly he seized his hat and hurried from the room, muttering: ‘Lunatics! Lunatics! They might infect the whole world with their madness …’
Rzecki was still smiling. ‘Confound it all,’ he told himself, ‘if I’m not right about Staś! He bade the young lady adieu, and left … That’s the whole secret. Once Ochocki comes back, we’ll learn the truth.’
He was in such good humour that he got his guitar out from under the bed and began humming to its accompaniment: ‘Spring awakens. … The wistful song of nightingales … In a green thicket … Two beautiful roses …’
A sharp pain in his chest reminded him he ought not to tire himself. Yet he felt tremendous energy within. ‘Staś has set to some great work,’ he thought,