Marynia was confused at hearing this, but flushed with pleasure, feeling that Svirski was right. She had, however, to occupy herself with the guests and the ceremony, and all the more since a certain disorder had crept in, to begin with. The first couple, Pani Emilia and Bigiel, were to hold little Stas; the second couple were Panna Ratkovski and Svirski. Meanwhile, this last man began to create unexpected difficulties, discovering hindrances, and evading, it was unknown why. “He would be very glad—he had come from Italy purposely—of course. That was an arranged affair; but he had never before held a child at a christening, therefore he didn’t know if his god-child would remain in good health, and especially if he would have luck with women.” At this Pan Stanislav laughed, and called him a superstitious Italian, but Marynia divined the trouble more quickly. She took advantage of the moment in which he had pushed back toward the window to escape, and whispered,—
“A gossip[15] of the second couple is no hindrance in this case.”
Svirski raised his eyes to her, then laughed, showing his small sound teeth, and said on a sudden, turning to Panna Ratkovski,—
“It is true, this is only in the second couple; therefore, I will serve you.”
All surrounded the little Stas, who, in the arms of the nurse, and dressed in muslin and lace, looked valiant, with his bald spot and his staring round eyes, in which the external world was reflected as mechanically as in a mirror. Bigiel took him now in his arms, and the ceremony began.
Those present listened with due attention to the solemn sacramental words, but the young pagan exhibited exceptional hardness of heart. First he began to kick, so that he half freed himself from Bigiel’s arms; later, when Bigiel, in his name, renounced the devil and his works, the young man did all in his power to drown the words. It was only when he saw, all at once, in the midst of his screaming, Bigiel’s spectacles, that he stopped suddenly, as if to let people know that if there are such astonishing objects in the world, it is a different thing.
However, the ceremony ended, and immediately after they gave him into the hands of the nurse, who put him into a splendid cradle, in the form of a wagon, the gift of Svirski, and wished to roll him out of the room. But Svirski, who never in his life, perhaps, had seen so nearly such a small person, and in whose breast beat a heart long yearning for fatherhood, stopped the nurse, and, bending down to the cradle, took the child in his arms.
“Carefully, carefully!” cried Pan Stanislav, pushing up quickly.
But the artist turned to him, and said,—
“Sir, I have held in my hands the works of Luca della Robbia.”