"I will drown myself," cried the maid in a hysterical voice.
And he began to speak in persuasive tones:
"Why? For what? Why, no one is to blame,--that was a pure accident. I will not tell anybody about it and that I had seen such beauty; that was only my luck."
And he proceeded to the fishing place.
She followed his shapely form with her tear-dimmed eyes and stood on the spot for quite a while in reverie, for it seemed to her that by reason of the secret known to them alone something had transpired between them which would unite them forever.
And afterwards when she recollected how that charming young heir of Jastrzeb had seen her, she shuddered from head to foot.
X
Gronski was a man of gentle and kindly disposition. Notwithstanding his penchant for philosophical pessimism, he was not a pessimist in his relations to men and life. Speaking in other words, in theory he often thought like Ecclesiastes; in practice he preferred to tread in the footsteps of Horace, or rather as Horace would have trodden had he been a Christian. Continual communing with the ancient world gave him a certain serenity, not divested indeed of melancholy, but peaceful and harmonious. Owing to his high education and extensive reading, which enabled him to come in contact with all ideas which found lodgment in the human mind and familiarize himself with all forms of human life, he was exceedingly tolerant, and the most extreme views did not lead him into that condition which would cause him to screech like a frightened peacock. This deep forbearance and this conviction that all that is taking place has to occur, did not deprive him of energy of thoughts or words; it deprived him, however, in some measure of the ability to act. He was more of a spectator than an actor on the world's stage, but a well-disposed spectator, acutely susceptible and extraordinarily curious. He sometimes compared himself to a man sitting on the bank of a river and watching its course, who knows indeed that it must roll on and disappear in the sea, but who is nevertheless interested in the movements of its waves, its currents, its whirlpools, mists rising from its depths, and the play of light upon its waters. Besides his genuine love of ancient languages and authors, Gronski was interested in politics, science, literature, art, the contemporary social tendencies, and finally in the private affairs of mankind; and this last to such an extent that he was reluctantly charged with undue love of knowledge of his fellow-men. From this general, lively curiosity flowed his loquacity and desire to expatiate upon anything which passed before his eyes. He was well aware of this, and jocosely justified himself before his friends by citing Cicero, who according to him was one of the greatest discoursers and meddlers whose memory is preserved by history. Aside from these weaknesses, Gronski possessed a highly developed capacity for sympathizing with human suffering and human thoughts, and was on the whole a man of fine sentiment. Poland he loved sincerely as he wished her to be; that is, noble, enlightened, cultured, as European as possible, but not losing her Lechite traits, and holding in her hand the flag with the white eagle. That eagle seemed to him to be one of the noblest symbols on earth.
Within the compass of his personal feelings, as a man and æsthete, he loved Marynia, but it was a love of a heavenly-blue hue, not scarlet. At the beginning he admired within her, as he said, "the music and the dove;" afterwards, not having any near relatives, he became attached to her like an older brother to a little sister, or as a father to a child. She, on her part, grateful for this attachment and at the same time esteeming his mind and character, reciprocated with her whole heart.
In the main, human sympathy and friendship encompassed Gronski, for even strangers, even people separated from him by a chasm of belief and convictions, even those whom he annoyed with his habit of pressing his forefinger to his forehead and thinking aloud, esteemed him for his ability to sympathize, his humanity and forbearance, which were like the open doors of a hospitable house.