tairs. The
floor outside her room creaked.

She rushed to the door and unbolted it with a jubilant cry like one who
has been saved. There stood Mr. Tiralla.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The night grew dark, the stars hid themselves behind clouds, as though
they were afraid of looking down on Starydwor. The balmy wind, which
seemed to carry spring on its wings, had brought rain. All at once
there came a heavy shower, which turned into a slow drizzle as soon as
the warm air had grown cool, and which continued until the misty, grey
dawn broke.

The young men buttoned up their coats before starting for the fields.
What a change in the weather! They felt chilled to the bone. Somebody
might at least have made them a cup of hot coffee. But nobody appeared,
and there came no answer to their soft call of "Heigh, Marianna,
heigh!" The whole house was as silent as death; it was as though all
life were extinct. There was nothing for it; Mikolai had to make the
fire and boil the coffee himself, or they would [Pg 213] have to leave
the house on that wet, sullen-looking morning without something warm to
drink.

Mrs. Tiralla had heard their call. She was lying on her bed with open
eyes, but was unable to rise. She felt worn-out, bruised in body and
mind; she had only sufficient strength left to bite her pillow, so as
to suppress her sobs. "Holy Mary, wert thou asleep?" Had the angels and
archangels not heard her when she called to them? He, he had come--but
not the one she had prayed for.

The woman clenched her fists in impotent fury, whilst her glowing
cheeks burned with shame. All the aversion, all the hatred she had ever
felt for her husband was nothing compared with this intense, blazing
passion that raged within her. How was she to avenge herself? If only
she had the poison which she, like a fool, had given back to him. Then
she would have rushed downstairs and calmly, quite calmly, poured some
of the white powder into his half-open mouth whilst he was lying in his
bed snoring. It would have acted, she felt sure of that. The saints
would not let innocent animals die, but they would look on with a smile
when the devils carried Mi. Tiralla's soul off to hell.

The woman uttered wild curses as she reproached herself for her
stupidity. How foolish, how unutterably foolish she had been to give up
those powders that could have released her. If she had had them now,
she would have given ten yea