On the Bright Shore/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV
Pani Elzen, before beginning her toilet for dinner, summoned Kresovich so as to pay him. She summoned him with, a certain curiosity in her soul as to what their parting would be. During life she had seen so many people fashioned, as it were, by a single cutter on one common pattern, that this young original had held her attention for some time; and now, when he was to leave in a little while, and take a broken heart with him, he occupied her still more. She felt sure that his passion would betray itself in some way, and she had even a slightly concealed wish that it should betray itself, promising, not altogether sincerely, that she would restrain it by one look or one word, should it dream of surpassing a certain measure.
Kresovich, however, came in cool, with a face rather ominous than loving. Pani Elzen, when she looked at him, thought that Svirski, as an artist, could not help noting that head, for there was in it something quite exceptional. Those features were as if of iron,—features in which will surpassed intelligence, giving them an expression which to a certain degree was dull, but also implacable. Svirski had divined long before that Kresovich was one of those men who, once seized by a given idea, have a faith which no breath of doubt can ever dim. Doubt never undermines the capacity for action in men like him, for the reason that a persistent and powerful character is joined to a certain narrowness of thought. Fanaticism flourishes on this soil alone. Pani Elzen, in spite of her society understanding, was too frivolous to grasp this. Kresovich would have attracted her attention only had he been an exceptionally handsome fellow; but since he was not, she met the man the first time she saw him as she would a thing; and it was only Svirski's unconscious teaching which brought her to turn attention to the student. At present she received him politely, and, after paying what she owed, in a voice cold, it is true, and indifferent as usual, but with words which were very polite, expressed sorrow that her intended departure from Monte Carlo, soon to take place, was a hindrance to further relations between them. Kresovich, putting the money into his pocket mechanically, answered,—
"I informed you yesterday that I could teach Romulus and Remus no longer."
"It is just that which pleases me," answered she, raising her head.
Evidently she wished, at least at first, to keep the conversation in a ceremonial tone, and impose that tone on Kresovich. But it was enough to look at him to see that he had the unbending determination to say all that he had resolved in his mind to say.
"You have paid me in genuine money," said he; "do not then give me counterfeit coin for the road."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean this," said he, with emphasis; "that you do not part with me because of your journey, nor have I thanked you for the service. There is another cause, and what that is you know as well as I do."
"If I know, perhaps I do not wish to hear of it, nor to mention it," answered Pani Elzen, haughtily.
He approached one step toward her, putting his hands behind him, and rearing his head almost threateningly.
"But it is unavoidable," said he: "first, because in a moment I shall go away, and, second, for other reasons too, of which you will know to-morrow."
Pani Elzen rose with frowning brow and somewhat with the theatrical posture of an offended queen.
"What does this mean?"
He drew still nearer, so that his mouth was barely a few inches from her face, and began to speak with concentrated energy.
"This means that I ought to have hated you and all your circle; but I have fallen in love with you. This means that for your sake I have degraded myself in my own conscience; for this cause I shall mete out my own punishment to myself. But precisely for this reason I have nothing to lose, and you must pay me for my iniquity, otherwise there will be a catastrophe!"
Pani Elzen was not frightened, for in general she had no fear of men. She did not fear Kresovich's consumption, either, since the local physician had quieted her perfectly on that point. Her astonishment alone was real; anger and fear were merely apparent. Amazement sprang up in her heart at once, "But he is a bird of prey, ready to tear me to pieces." For her nature, wrapped up as it was in corruption and fond of novelty, every adventure, especially when it flattered her female vanity, had an unspeakable charm. For this cause her moral sense was astonished at nothing. If Kresovich had implored her for one moment of delight, for the right to kiss the hem of her garment with humility, and on his knees, she would have given command to throw him out of doors. But this man, terrible, almost wild, this representative of a sect of whose tremendous energy fabulous tales were related in her social circle, seemed demonic, so different from all men whom she had seen up to that time, that she was seized with ecstasy. Her nerves were greedy of novelty. She thought, too, that in case of resistance the adventure might take on proportions altogether unforeseen, and turn into a scandal; for that lunatic was really ready for anything.
But Kresovich continued, covering her face with his burning breath,—
"I love, and I have nothing to lose. I have lost health, I have destroyed my future, and have demeaned myself!—I have nothing to lose! Do you understand? To me it is all one whether at your call ten men run in here or a hundred; for you it is not all one! Afterward I shall go; and the secret will be lost—I swear!"
Pani Elzen cared only for preserving appearances, which the hypocritical woman always tries to preserve and to deceive herself.
Turning her eyes, filled with feigned terror, to his face, which was really like the face of a madman, she asked,—
"Do you want to kill me?"
"I want pay—not in money!" answered he, in a stifled voice. Then growing paler yet, he seized her in his arms; and she began to defend herself. But she did so like a fainting woman whom terror deprives of strength and consciousness.