Iermola

by Józef Ignacy Kraszewski

Iermola knew all about these matters, for formerly, when he was in the service of his good master, there was frequent intercourse between the dwor of Popielnia and the dwor of Malyczki, and also between the two villages. Consequently, from the first the idea suggested by the widow had taken possession of his mind. He did not wish to reveal his designs at first lest he should be laughed at; and under pretext of some business common to village people, he set out for the dwor of Malyczki.

For many years there had lived in this dwor a weak and decrepit old man, once a chief of squadron in the national cavalry, and an old friend of Iermola's good lord, whose name was Felicien Druzyna. He had once been rich, but had lived to see all his fortune melt away during the civil wars; and he had for a long time wandered about the world, travelling sometimes in the north and sometimes in the west. Finally he returned to Polesia, to live on the estate which was all that remained of his possessions. For several years his infirmities had so increased that he was now confined to his bed, and prayed for death, which seemed to refuse to put an end to his sufferings.

Even the exterior of the house in which he lived in Malyczki showed that it had formerly been the seat of considerable wealth. It was old-fashioned, large, and gloomy, surrounded by an old garden, trellised in the French fashion of the time of Louis the Great; and there were large ponds, a chapel and a small bastion,--monuments left behind by the ancestors of the chief of squadron.

But all these ancient beauties were falling to ruin; the revenue of one poor village was not sufficient to maintain so much splendor. The monotonous life of the old man brought out all his peculiarities. It may have been that he had naturally an ill temper; it may have been that the sorrows of his long life or the sufferings of his long illness had rendered him extremely irritable; but in his old age he had become unusually violent and passionate.

His only son, who was about thirty years old, and a young relative of his wife, who assisted in taking care of him, could not leave him for a moment, and were condemned to a continual punishment by the constant whims and endless persecutions of this despotic old man. But in spite of his physical weakness, the chief of squadron retained such remarkable activity and vigour of mind that he still exercised the entire control of his affairs. He treated his son as a child of twelve years old, his ward as a servant, and held his servants in the harshest manner to the strictest performance of their duty. The keys of all the granaries, the cellars, and cupboards were brought to him every day after the distribution of necessary provisions, and were carefully placed by him under his pillow. When he ordered corporal punishment to be administered to his servants, he never prescribed less than fifty lashes; the oldest received a hundred in compliment to their age. Every one in the house trembled before him, and obeyed his slightest breath; and each one was obliged to be ready to account for the smallest trifle whenever he took it into his head to inquire about it.

Thus the blind old man, irritated by the gloom of his life, and by its inaction, which was even more difficult for him to bear, endeavoured to distract his mind by ruling his house and family as strictly as possible and torturing every one by whom he was surrounded. Every one who came near him was compelled to serve him; no one had the right to live for himself. A skilfully organized system of constant watching produced continual quarrels and anxieties, which had become the chronic condition of this unfortunate household, where neither confidence, joy, nor liberty existed.

Even the old man's son, Jan Druzyna, who was kept constantly beside the sick bed, was losing all joy, hope, and love of life.

Nevertheless the old chief of squadron, so ill-natured and so harsh in his manners toward his own family, was to strangers particularly affable, kindly, and good-natured. He adopted one line of conduct for outsiders and quite another for the bosom of his family. He gave hearty welcome to the guests who sometimes visited him, was obliging to his neighbours, and compassionate to the poor. He spoke kindly to every one, smiled, often joked, and even rendered small services; consequently those who did not know him, and only saw him at such times, could scarcely believe the tales which were told of the old soldier's cross and tyrannical conduct. It is certain that the sufferings of disease, the long weary hours of blindness, the misery of sleepless nights, had all contributed to sour his disposition; but his heart had remained kind and sympathetic, though he had resolved to disguise the fact from others by such constant and unusual severity of manner. Moreover, the exaggerated ideas which he had conceived of military discipline, and of holding a firm hand upon the reins of domestic administration, had confirmed him in the practice of this fussy and incessant despotism.

The young heir of the little domain and poor Marie, the far-off cousin, both nailed to the side of his bed or his easy-chair, passed days filled with bitter repinings. Their mutual attachment was their only comfort. The old man had in some way or other discovered the affection they bore each other,--these two young creatures so cruelly tried; he had even by persuasion and cunning induced them to confess it to him, but having done so, he at once forbade them under the severest penalties, even under penalty of his curse, ever to think of marrying. He, however, continued to keep them about him in the solitude of his home, not seeing the necessity of separating them, for he thought his word was all-powerful, and that no one would have the audacity to resist his commands. The young people consequently were forced to keep strict guard over themselves, and went on with their wearisome task with sorrow and tears, carefully concealing in the old man's presence their firm and constant affection.

Some one was obliged to watch beside the old chief of squadron night and day, for he would have some one always by him, and generally preferred his son Jan or his ward Marie; and he rarely quitted his bed except to stretch his swollen limbs on the cushions of his big easy-chair, which was rolled around his chamber. He slept badly and with frequent interruptions. Usually he dozed until about ten o'clock, woke up about midnight, and slept again at daylight after he had taken his coffee; then until dinner-time he attended to his business, calling his son, his ward, and his servants by turns to his bedside. He would shut his eyes again for a moment after the midday meal, then rouse up again to worry, command, and torment his servants and entire family all the rest of the day till evening. The old officer took much less precaution in regard to his health than he ought to have done, considering his numerous infirmities; he drank brandy several times a day, ate tremendously, and paid no attention to the advice of the doctor, who constantly recommended temperance.