At that moment somebody caught hold of him by the nape of his neck, and as he was walking very shakily, he fell down without any show of resistance and without a cry, so that Mikolai, who had whirled him round and was now kneeling on his chest, had an easy time of it. "It's I, Mikolai," he panted. "I'll teach you!"
Mikolai had hardly ever given anybody such a thrashing before; it was such a relief to him to get rid of his misery in this way. He flogged the man until his arm was stiff, and then threw him into the ditch at the side of the field and went home satisfied. He whistled as he walked back to the farm. There, now he had given that fellow a good reminder; he would have a few bruises to show. And if he felt inclined to bring an action against him, then let him; he would never repent of what he had done. He felt much brighter now. He looked about for Marianna; how tiresome, she was no doubt sleeping upstairs by now. He went round to the gable and began to whistle, but nobody opened the window, and no eager "Yes, yes!" reached his ear. How tiresome! The woman was sleeping like a badger in his hole. He would have to enjoy the thought of his successful stroke by himself, then, and he pressed his fists against his mouth and hopped about on one leg with joy.
When he came round to the front door again he noticed a light gleaming through the shutters in the big room. What, was somebody still awake? Was his father not asleep yet? Perhaps in his drunken condition he had forgotten to put out the lamp. Then it would be smoking the whole night through, as it had done a short time before, when the smelling thing had only gone out for want of paraffin. Did the old fool really want to set fire to the whole concern? How dreadful it would be to have a fire with all that straw in the barn. The man cast an anxious look at the streak of light which found its way through the shutters; it seemed twice as broad as usual. What was the old man up to? He would be doing some mischief some day, that was certain. Seized with an unaccountable uneasiness, Mikolai groped in the dark passage for the door-handle. "Psia krew!" Of course, it was locked on the inside. He knocked; then he called, "Father!" He rattled the handle. "The deuce, why can't you open?"
Still no answer, and no bolt was withdrawn.
He shook the door with all his strength. "I shall break the door open if you don't unlock it at once."
The door creaked and groaned, and Mikolai's loud voice echoed through the house, so that one would have thought it would have awakened the dead--bat there was no sound in the room.
Then a fear gripped him; what should he do now? He was still pondering when he heard his stepmother's voice.
Mrs. Tiralla had gone to bed, but she had not slept. Her face had burnt like fire, for she had been rubbing and washing it, so as to wash the kisses off which she had been obliged to put up with in the dark passage. Her forehead pained her as though there were a fresh scar on it, for the man had strained her so forcibly to his breast that his watch-chain had left a mark there. Oh, that stigma! She passed her hand over it again and again, but however much she rubbed it did not disappear. She wrung her hands in impotent fury. But then she clenched her teeth; no, no complaint, for she had done it for Martin's sake. Was it not a joy in spite of all this agony to think that she was suffering for his sake? Who could sympathize with her feelings? No one except the Lord. He had wrestled in the Garden of Gethsemane; He had endured Judas's kiss.
"O Lord," she raised her hands in the dark to the picture on the wall of the Saviour holding His flaming heart in His hand, "Thou art acquainted with every suffering, Thou seest my sufferings, have mercy!"
It was probably the first time in her life that Mrs. Tiralla had not used the prescribed form of prayer, that her heart had cried out in its own words. Then she whispered, "Martin, Martin," as if the beloved name were a form of conjuration, and stretched out her arms longingly in her cold, dark room. Oh, how warm and bright it had been at Starydwór! Suddenly a smile spread itself over her troubled face; it was as though a feeling of sweet peace had come to her from afar, and had told her that it would be warm and bright again. The certainty of this in the near future consoled her and made her patient. She pressed her hand to her heart--hope, hope!