ight argue
with himself all he chose, that he had done worse, and was a fool
for caring--but still he could not get over the shock of that sudden
unveiling, he could not help being sunk in grief because of it. The
depths of him were troubled and shaken, memories were stirred in him
that had been sleeping so long he had counted them dead. Memories of the
old life--his old hopes and his old yearnings, his old dreams of decency
and independence! He saw Ona again, he heard her gentle voice pleading
with him. He saw little Antanas, whom he had meant to make a man. He saw
his trembling old father, who had blessed them all with his wonderful
love. He lived again through that day of horror when he had discovered
Ona's shame--God, how he had suffered, what a madman he had been!
How dreadful it had all seemed to him; and now, today, he had sat and
listened, and half agreed when Marija told him he had been a fool!
Yes--told him that he ought to have sold his wife's honor and lived by
it!--And then there was Stanislovas and his awful fate--that brief story
which Marija had narrated so calmly, with such dull indifference! The
poor little fellow, with his frostbitten fingers and his terror of the
snow--his wailing voice rang in Jurgis's ears, as he lay there in the
darkness, until the sweat started on his forehead. Now and then he
would quiver with a sudden spasm of horror, at the picture of little
Stanislovas shut up in the deserted building and fighting for his life
with the rats!

All these emotions had become strangers to the soul of Jurgis; it was so
long since they had troubled him that he had ceased to think they might
ever trouble him again. Helpless, trapped, as he was, what good did they
do him--why should he ever have allowed them to torment him? It had been
the task of his recent life to fight them down, to crush them out of
him; never in his life would he have suffered from them again, save
that they had caught him unawares, and overwhelmed him before he could
protect himself. He heard the old voices of his soul, he saw its old
ghosts beckoning to him, stretching out their arms to him! But they were
far-off and shadowy, and the gulf between them was black and bottomless;
they would fade away into the mists of the past once more. Their voices
would die, and never again would he hear them--and so the last faint
spark of manhood in his soul would flicker out.

Chapter 28

After breakfast Jurgis was driven to the cour