For the Right

by Karl Emil Franzos

"What is it?" inquired the pope, surprised. "He is not likely to harm you, seeing he was kind to Taras."

"Yes, yes," she groaned; "I am all the more sorry for him." But her lips closed, and the old stony expression settled on her face.

That same evening the two who on the previous day had opposed each other so strenuously concerning the attitude to be adopted by the village--Wassilj, the butcher, and Hritzko Pomenko--went from farm to farm, from cottage to cottage, evidently of one mind. "On account of the Whitecoats there can be no general meeting," they said; "but we ask you individually, Are you satisfied that tomorrow morning we should start for the mountains, to call hither Taras in the name of the community, for the avenging of this wrong? And do you pledge yourselves to help him?" Every one of the peasants assented, most of them readily, and some for very fear of the prevailing opinion. The horizon hung heavy with bursting clouds.

But the pope only heard of it when the two had started on the Tuesday, and the good man found himself in a painful plight. Should he inform the captain, causing more stringent measures to be adopted against the village, besides being the means of bringing two honest men to grievous punishment? Should he keep silence and let the mischief be done? He came to see that, of the two evils, this latter certainly was the worst, and therefore imparted to the officer what was brewing, but without mentioning names.

The captain smiled. "I know all about it," he said, "and more than you tell me. That corporal, Constantino Turenko, has been before you, embellishing his report, no doubt, with even more than the truth. But let me assure your reverence that my measures have been taken with the utmost circumspection; I hardly needed such information to be prepared for any exigency. I shall not have recourse to harsh treatment; and though that corporal has taken it upon himself so to advise me, I shall not prohibit the public funeral of the smith to-day."

But this mournful occasion brought no cause of disturbance. Nearly all the village attended, and Father Leo would fain have poured out his heart had the widow not begged him to forego the usual discourse. "My husband shall indeed have a funeral sermon by and by," she said, "not in words, but in gun-shots."

On the evening of this day, also, two men went the round of the village, Alexa Sembrow and Wilko Sembratowicz. "It has been announced," they said, "that to-morrow we have to expect a man of the law to take our deposition with regard to Taras's speech. Now Taras himself has desired us to make it known, but we consider the transactions of the general assembly are no lawyer's business, and we propose to refuse information. Do you agree?" which they all did, none having the slightest compunction on this point.

Whilst the inhabitants of Zulawce were thus preparing to circumvent the law after their own fashion, Mr. Ladislas Kapronski, the district commissioner, with his office-clerk behind him, was being driven towards the contumacious parish. He was seated in an open car, an armed constable on either side of him, but nowise at his ease; indeed, so harassed was his appearance, that the simple country folk by the roadside, unable to guess at his position by his looks, kept wondering what so respectable an individual could have done to be taken to prison for! A coward every inch of him, he certainly did not show to advantage with an escort of constables about him.

Nor did the rising sun of another day enhance his spirits; for was he not approaching that desperate village? his craven imagination conjuring up the most lively scenes of the regiment being murdered to a man by that awful Taras. He quite gasped with relief on beholding some of the soldiers patrolling by the Pruth, and their leader, a sergeant, assured him, somewhat surprised, that the regiment, so far, was alive and the people tolerably quiet.

This account seemed cheering, and he fell to determining his mode of action. He would try, in the first place, to bully Anusia; for if the mandatar's advice in this respect was illegal, it was nevertheless useful, and this was not a case to stickle for technical correctness, when positively one's life was in danger, the amiable man said to himself. He instructed his driver, therefore, to put him down near Taras's farm; and, to the astonishment of the constables, he went on his errand alone. The beating of his heart was known to himself only. "No doubt she is a termagant of a woman," he murmured, but face her he must.