At midday Marania departed, and immediately he had gone Pabasca’s spirits rose. She took from a cupboard her three dresses and, leaving her bedroom door open, tried on each in turn. Then she went into the room which Cesiphos used as a kitchen and prepared herself a meal. Towards dusk she left the house, but returned soon and went to bed.
Cesiphos sat up smoking his pipe. After a time, he rose, climbed rather noisily upstairs, went to his room and closed the door. For a little while he stood motionless as though listening; then, having taken off his boots, he opened his bedroom door with elaborate carefulness, stepped on to the little landing, closed the door silently, and crept soundlessly downstairs.
Some instinct told him that Pabasca would not sleep alone that night, and he knew very well that her visitor would be Sobraji, for many times before her marriage, Cesiphos had seen her and Sobraji together at night in lonely places. In all probability, Pabasca had given him the key of the front entrance; indeed, when Cesiphos examined the door and found it unbolted, he was sure of this. So he took up his place in the entrance and waited.
After Cesiphos had waited a long time, the door opened slowly and Sobraji entered. In the darkness he did not see Marania’s servant crouching there, and without hurry he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Then suddenly Cesiphos sprang upon him, his large hands encircling Sobraji’s throat; squeezing his victim hard, he banged his head against the wall, until the little man hung heavy and limp in Cesiphos’ hands. Then the servant unlocked the door and opened it; gathering Sobraji in his arms, he threw him out into the night and locked the door upon him.
During his struggle with Sobraji, Cesiphos had been too excited to pay any attention to Pabasca, who, almost as soon as the struggle had begun, had come downstairs with a lamp. She had stood quietly by watching eagerly. It was too late for her to interrupt; indeed, after her first shock of surprise and dismay, she had no wish to do so. She was thrilled by Cesiphos’ strength, by his skill, by his machine-like calmness.
Cesiphos, having locked the door, turned round and saw Pabasca. The light of the lamp fell full on her face, and she smiled at him. In return, he frowned, looked away from her, and quickly made his way upstairs. He entered his room and closed his door. Almost immediately Pabasca followed him, and placed the lamp upon the floor.
Approaching Cesiphos, she took his hand, gazed lingeringly into his eyes for a moment. He shook himself free from her, and his eyes blazed. Again she approached him, her arms outstretched; but his anger became so fierce and his face worked so terribly, that she shrank from him, and, leaving the lamp on the floor, hurriedly went to her own room.
During the days that passed before Marania’s return, Cesiphos went about his work with a grave face. Whenever he was in Pabasca’s presence, he averted his eyes. Each night when he went to rest, she could hear him dragging his bed across the floor and fixing it against the door.
His simple nature was badly bruised by what had happened. He had always known that life was not all good, but evil had never come so close to him as now. All through the day and during a portion of each night he tortured himself by asking how much, or how little, he must tell his master when he returned. Clearly it was his duty to disclose to Marania the conduct of Sobraji, but it seemed to him unwise to tell the story in such a way that Pabasca would be implicated. Besides, he had no proof that Pabasca had expected Sobraji to visit her, though in his heart he knew that an assignation had been made and nearly kept.