What this might be Starkowski learned on his first professional visit to the prisoner. "They will not believe me," said Taras sadly; "they doubt the truth of my having maintained the band honestly, partly out of my own means, partly with the freewill contributions of well-meaning folks. And yet I cannot name any of those who helped me, for fear of their having to suffer for it. Is there no help, but that the suspicion most rest on me and mine, that I committed murder for vulgar gain's sake?"
The lawyer endeavoured to comfort him, saying he hoped to dispel this charge, proving it at variance with the character of his client, which was plainly apparent in the evidence. "But let us speak of something else now," he added, "which is more important--your own fate."
"Why, that is settled," replied Taras, quietly; "I have shed blood and must atone for it with my own. Please do not try to overthrow that!"
"Now, listen to me," said the lawyer, "there is such a thing as common sense. You have given yourself up of your own free will to satisfy justice; this is enough for your conscience, and it would be simply wicked in you to clamour to be hanged. Try to judge calmly in this respect. Looking at facts, of course I cannot doubt that the jury will find you guilty, because the law must have its course, but I have hopes that the Emperor may pardon you. There are strong reasons for a recommendation to mercy. Moreover, it is plain that the old Archduke Ludwig is interested in you, and he will not fail to plead in your favour."
"Will you listen to me now?" said Taras, quietly, when his counsel had finished. "I can have no other wish in this matter than to see that carried out which I have been striving for all my life--that is justice; and a sentence of death alone would be just! I can not prevent the Emperor pardoning me if he is so minded, but I will not have you petition him in my name. There is one favour only I would ask, if it comes to the dying ..." he paused, a shudder running through his frame.
"I know," said the lawyer, deeply affected, "you would like to be shot and not hung. Father Leo told me; old Jemilian come to him once secretly for confession ... Take comfort, I think I can promise you that much, if indeed it must come to the worst."
Towards the end of February, Taras was sentenced to death--"to be hung by the neck"--there could not have been any other verdict. But he was informed at the same time that the parishes of Ridowa and Zulawce, as well as Baron Zborowski, had petitioned the Emperor for mercy.
That same day Starkowski addressed a letter to Father Leo, acquainting him also with the sentence, and imploring him once again to try his influence with Anusia. The pope was deeply grieved. "Alas," he said to his wife, "even this news will not move the woman, and what else could I tell her? Have I not striven with her to the utmost?"
"You must try yet again," said the good little popadja; "it is the most sacred duty in all this life of yours."
"I am sure of that," he said, sorrowfully; "and my heart bleeds at the thought that once more I must plead in vain for her poor husband! I am truly sorry for Anusia herself, and shall never cease befriending her, but this hard-heartedness, this horrible power of vindictiveness in a woman fills me with loathing."