King Stakh's Wild Hunt

“She's beautiful,” Dubatoŭk continued and sighed, looking at me sadly.

“Who?” I asked.

“My ward.”

Things had gone too far, and to pretend any further was impossible, for otherwise it would have turned out that I was compromising the girl.

“I haven't thought about it,” I said. “But even if I had thought about it, it doesn't depend on me alone. First of all it is necessary to ask her.”

“You are avoiding an answer,” suddenly hissed Varona through his teeth. (I hadn't suspected that he was listening to our quiet conversation.) “You do not want to speak frankly and directly with serious people. You don't want to say that you are after money and a wife of noble birth.”

I was convulsed with pain. Trying to keep calm, I answered:

“I have no intention of getting married. And I consider speaking about a girl in a drunken company of men does no honour to a true gentleman. Stop talking, Varona, don't attract the attention of drunken people to an innocent girl, don't taint her reputation, and I, although it is a terrible insult, forgive you.”

“Ha, ha!” exclaimed Varona. “He forgives me. This pig, this cad.”

“Stop it!” I shouted. “Be quiet! Just think how you are insulting her with each one of your words!”

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Dubatoŭk tried to calm us. “Varona, you are drunk.”

“Think yourself. I once allowed an offence of yours to pass by unnoticed, but in future I won't!”

“You scoundrel!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” I shouted so loudly that even those who were sleeping raised their heads from the table. “I'll force you to shut up!”

A knife from the table whisked through the air and fell flat on my hand. I jumped up from my seat, grabbed Varona by the chest and shook him. At the same moment Dubatoŭk grabbed us by the shoulders and separated us, shoving Varona aside.

“Shame on you, Aleś!” Dubatoŭk thundered. “You pup… Make peace immediately!”

“No, wait a moment, Dubatoŭk. This is serious. It's too late. My honour has been insulted,” Varona roared.

“And my honour as host. Who will now come to visit me? Everyone will say that Dubatoŭk treats his guests to duels instead of good vodka.”

“Don't care a straw,” Varona shouted, baring his teeth.

Without uttering a word, Dubatoŭk slapped him in the face.

“Now you will first fight me with a sabre, for he only took hold of you by the chest,” he hissed so loudly that many started. “I shall do what has to be done for my guest to leave here safe and sound.”

“You're mistaken,” Varona retorted calmly. “He who first offended is first in line. And then I'll fight with you, kill me if you will.”

“Aleś,” Dubatoŭk almost begged him, “Don't bring shame on my house.”

“He shall fight with me,” Varona said firmly.

“Oh well, then,” our host unexpectedly agreed. “It does not matter, Mr, Biełarecki. Be courageous. This pig is so drunk that he can't hold a pistol. I think I'll stand beside you, and that will be the safest place.”

“Don't worry,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. “It's unnecessary. I'm not afraid. You be brave, too.”

Varona stared at me with his deadly black eyes.

“I haven't yet finished. We shan't shoot in the garden, for otherwise this dandy will escape. And not tomorrow, for otherwise he will leave. We shall shoot here and now, in the empty room near the shed. And three bullets each. In the dark.”

Dubatoŭk made a protesting gesture, but a reckless cold fury had already crept into my heart. It was all the same to me now, I hated this man, forgot Janoŭskaja, my work, even myself.

“I submit to your will,” I answered caustically. “But won't you make use of the darkness to run away from me? However, as you like.”

“You lion cub!” I heard Dubatoŭk's broken voice.

I glanced at him and was shocked. It was pitiful to look at the old man. His face was distorted with fear, his eyes expressed an inhuman fear and shame, such shame that death would be better. He was almost in tears. He did not even look at me, he just turned about and waved his hand.

The shed was attached to the house. It was an enormous room with grey moss in the grooves of walls. Spiders' webs resembling an entangled delivery of linen, hung down from the straw roof and shook at our steps. Two young gentlemen carried candles and accompanied us into a room near the shed, a room entirely empty, with grey, wet plastering and without any windows. It smelled of mice and of abominable desolation.

To be quite honest, I was afraid, very much afraid. My state could be compared with that of a bull in the slaughter-house or of a man in the dentist's chair. It was nasty and vile, but impossible to run away.

“Well, what'll happen if he shoots me in the stomach? Oh! That'll be awful! If I could only hide somewhere!”

I don't know why, but I was terribly afraid of being wounded in the stomach. And after I had eaten so well!