The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [90]
But in straying thus from my subject I have forgotten several very important details. I have in mind Mraczewski, who has for some time either been thwarting my plans or deliberately leading me into error. The lad was dismissed from our shop because he was rather insulting about Socialists in the presence of Wokulski. Later, however, Staś allowed himself to be persuaded and immediately after Easter he sent Mraczewski to Moscow and even raised his wages. For more than one evening I have pondered over the meaning of this journey, or rather exile. But when, three weeks ago, Mraczewski came thence to collect goods, I comprehended Staś’s plan at once.
Physically, the young man had changed little: always talkative and handsome, but perhaps somewhat paler. He said he liked Moscow, particularly the local women, who had more experience and spirit, and fewer prejudices than ours. I too, when young, used to think that women had fewer prejudices than today.
All this is merely an introduction. For Mraczewski brought with him three very dubious individuals, whom he called ‘prikashchiki’, and a whole package of pamphlets. The ‘prikashchiki’ were supposed to see about something or other in the shop, but they did so in such a manner that none of us caught sight of them. They wandered about the town for days at a time, and I would take my oath they were preparing the way for a revolution in our country. Seeing that I had my eye on them, they always feigned drunkenness whenever they came near the shop, and talked to me about nothing but women, claiming—despite Mraczewski—that Polish women were ‘stunning’—only very like Jewesses. I pretended to believe everything they said, and discovered by means of skilful questioning that the districts they knew best were those around the Citadel prison. It was there that they conducted most business. And that my guesses were well founded was shown by the fact that these ‘prikashchiki’ even attracted the attention of the police. Within ten days at most, they have been taken three times to police-stations. Clearly, they must have important contacts, for they were freed.
When I communicated my suspicions of these ‘prikashchiki’ to Staś, he merely smiled and replied: ‘This is only the beginning!…’ From this, I conclude that Staś must have gone far in his relations with the nihilists.
But, pray picture my amazement when, having invited Klein and Mraczewski to my room for tea, I discovered that Mraczewski is a worse Socialist than Klein…This Mraczewski who lost his position in our shop for insulting Socialists! I was struck dumb with amazement for the entire evening; only Klein was quietly gratified, while Mraczewski talked. I have never heard anything like it in all my life! This young man proved to me, by quoting very clever people, that all capitalists are criminals, that the earth ought to belong to those who cultivate it, that factories, coal-mines and machines ought to be the property of everyone, that there is no God or Soul which priests invented to trick people into paying tithes. He added that when they start the revolution (he and the three ‘prikashchiki’), then we shall all work only eight hours a day, and enjoy ourselves for the rest of the time, even though everyone will have a pension when old, and a free funeral. Finally he said that paradise will not come to this world until everything is held in common: the earth, buildings, machines and even wives.
As I am a bachelor (people even call me an old one) and am writing this journal honestly, I must confess that this communality of wives rather pleased me. I must even say that I gained some sympathy for Socialism and the Socialists. But why do they have to have a revolution, when people might have wives in common without it? This was what I thought, but Mraczewski himself cured me and at the same time thwarted my plans very badly.
In passing, I must say I sincerely wish Staś would