le that he had not heard Mikolai run out of the room when
the maid's loud screams had awakened him, but had slept on like a
peaceful child. He finished dressing. He was still so sleepy that he
could not understand why he had gone to bed in trousers and socks. But
then his eye fell on his box that stood packed and corded. Then he
remembered everything. He braced himself up and left the room to
announce his intention to Mikolai. Why were they weeping and wailing
so?

Marianna ran past him in the passage. She pointed to the door leading
into the big room with a convulsive sob, "Holy Mother, holy Mother!"
What was the matter with her? What had happened? An accident? The blood
suddenly rushed to his head; had [Pg 312] anything happened to Mrs.
Tiralla? Of course not--he shook off the sense of oppression which was
overpowering him--she did not know yet that he intended leaving that
day.

He went into the room from whence the weeping came. It was half-dark,
the shutters were closed, and the only light in the room came from the
candles burning on the table. He distinguished some dark figures
kneeling by a bed, and on the bed an outstretched figure under a white
sheet. He started and pressed his hand to his brow; he felt terrified.
Who was dead?

At that moment Mrs. Tiralla came towards him with outstretched hand.
"Mr. Tiralla is dead," she said.

"Dead--dead?" he stammered. Her voice had sounded almost triumphant. He
did not grasp it all at once, it was not a thing that could be turned
over in the mind so quickly. He shuddered, and swiftly made the sign of
the cross. A dead person in the house! And the woman could say it so
calmly, and gaze at him with such a radiant look that the black in her
eyes illuminated the darkness like a sunbeam.

The young fellow had a feeling as though he must turn round and run
away. He was still hesitating when the woman drew him forcibly towards
her, and he felt her icy-cold fingers gripping his wrist.

"Martin, Martin," she whispered softly in his ear, "he's dead, now you
needn't go." Her voice was only just audible, for Mikolai and Rosa were
kneeling at the bedside.

But Martin had not noticed them. "I shall have to go all the same," he
said aloud, without looking at her. "When Mr. Tiralla is buried, I
shall go. Holy [Pg 313] Mother, pray for us, now and in the hour of
death!" Making the sign of the cross he stepped up to the bed, knelt
down beside Rosa without noticing her in his const