"Yes," said Father Leo, gently. "But you must not take it too much to heart, you have tried honestly."
"Let me know what they say," interrupted Taras, as calm as before, but it might have been noticed that he leant heavily on the table beside which he was standing.
The pope produced the writ, reading and explaining. The court dismissed the appeal, seeing no reason why the trial should be repeated, it being fully evident that the former examination had satisfied the demands of justice. The lower court's verdict, therefore, must be upheld.
Taras had listened to the end with the same rigid mien. "Thank you," he said, when Father Leo had done. "But now leave me alone. You too, Anusia; I must think it over."
"What use in farther troubling?" demurred the pope. "Dr. Starkowski says especially that the legal means are exhausted; which means that there is nothing further to be done. You must submit to the will of God."
"We will come back to that presently," said Taras, with a ghastly smile, which quite frightened the pope. "You shall not be cheated out of your sermon, but not now ... not now!" He repeated the words almost passionately.
Father Leo still hesitated; but Anusia interfered. She had been sitting in a corner, weeping; but now she rose. "Stay, pope," she entreated, taking hold of Taras's hand. "Husband," she cried, shrilly, "fly into whatever rage you like, thrash the rascal at the manor house till he cannot move a limb, if it will ease you; but do not hide your wrath within yourself. Do not look so stony; it kills me, husband. I am maddened with fear! I know why you would have us leave you--you are going to lay hands on yourself!"
"No!" cried Taras, solemnly. "God knows, I have no such thought." But again the smile played about his mouth. "Be at peace, wife," he added; "I have never stood in more grievous need of health and life than now. Leave me."
They saw they must obey, but they remained standing outside the closed door, listening anxiously. They hoped the terrible tension of his heart might be lessened now by the pouring forth of his sorrow, but they heard nothing save his measured step. It ceased at length, and all was still.
"Come!" said the poor wife, dragging the pope to a small window which gave them a peep into the room. They saw Taras, sitting still, resting his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. He sat motionless.