"He was one of those magistrates who used the power entrusted to them for a deed of violence, for fear of earthly punishment."
"Taras," cried the pope, with a vain attempt to speak calmly, "there is no excuse for you, or rather your only excuse is this, that you did not know the true state of things----"
"I knew all about it," rejoined Taras. "I was aware that the Board of Colomea had prayed to be dismissed the service rather than be obliged to do this deed. But what of it? You will tell me that their request was refused by their superiors, and that their oath required them to stay at their post and obey the higher authority. But I tell you no oath binds a man to iniquity--and therefore the judgment I carried out was a just one!"
Starkowski interposed: "It is quite useless to reason with you on these points, or to expect you to retract anything of the past. But tell me, what of the future? Do you really consider yourself infallible? Do you imagine that you alone will never be in danger of passing sentence unjustly? This is awful presumption!"
"No," said Taras, solemnly; "it is an assurance resting on the grace of God. He sees and probes my heart. He knows that I have undertaken this warfare for His sake alone, and He will not let me fall so grievously. But even apart from this, I do think that an honest, right-minded, and judicious man will always be able to distinguish right from wrong."
"Then you really believe that an unjust sentence on your part is utterly impossible? Well, let this pass; but supposing the hour ever came that would convince you that you also, in striving after justice, had done wrong--what then?"
"It were the most fearful hour of my life," said Taras, hoarsely; "and I do not speak lightly!... I have never considered what in that case I should have to do, but it is quite plain. If God ever suffers me to commit the wrong, then I shall acknowledge that He never was with me, that the blessed ladder joining earth to heaven is a dream, and I shall no longer call myself an avenger, but an evildoer who has deserved every punishment he has ever inflicted on others. If ever such terrible conviction does come to me, be very sure I shall give myself up to you on the spot. Till then, I have nothing to do with you. Take back this message to those that sent you."
Deep silence followed.
"Is this your final decision?" These words fell on the stillness with stifled sobs. It was Anusia--white as death, bending forward, hollow-eyed and shaking in every limb--who now faced her husband.
The two men were dismayed, and even Taras staggered. "Anusia," he began, "you know----"