her feelings,
for had she not felt seven swords piercing her heart? She would help
her, she must help her. She prayed fervently. And whilst praying, all
kinds of plans flashed through her mind. Should she, too, go to
Starawie['s] to confession? But how was she to begin? How should she
express herself, so that she betrayed nothing to Father Szypulski, and
still was delivered from her agony of mind? She did not know what to
do. Her agony was so great, it seemed to grow and grow in spite of
her prayers, until it was unendurable. If only she could find peace,
peace--but she could only find that when Mr. Tiralla was in his grave.

All at once the woman's lifeless eyes grew animated, and a wave of
colour mounted to her pale cheeks. The thought had come to her that if
Mr. Tiralla were to die Martin Becker would not hurry away from
Starydwor. There would be no need for him to hurry away, for she would
be free and could love whom she wished. And nobody would object then,
not even Father Szypulski.

She buried her face in her hands and shivered with delight. What a life
of bliss displayed itself before her eyes! But--all her misery came
back to her once more--but who would help her to this? She had no more
poison, and her hands--taking them away from her face she stared at
them--these feeble hands could not give him such a push that he,
staggering at the graveside, as he did already, could tumble in
altogether and stretch his aching limbs in welcome peace. Mr. Tiralla
wanted to die, she saw it in his face, she knew it. Had he not groaned,
"If only I were dead!" when they had helped him a short time ago out of
the ditch into which he had fallen in a fit of weakness, when he had
gone out to meet the last wagonful of corn?

It would certainly be best for him if he were dead. [Pg 247] Rosa
shuddered when she saw her father's yellow face and blood-shot eyes,
and smelt his foul breath, and Mikolai felt very annoyed with him,
although he now and then laughed at what he babbled in his
weakmindedness.

If Mr. Tiralla were not there! Oh, would the children not draw a deep
breath of relief when their father was out of the house? It was really
true his presence weighed on everybody. He was so repulsive to look at,
and his continual coughing and groaning were horrible to listen to. If
only she could deliver them all from him, and at the same time give the
man his freedom! It would, indeed, be a good deed. But how was she to
set about it