"Calm thyself, Pan Stanislav," answered Bukatski, phlegmatically, greeting him as if they had parted an hour before. "How art thou?" "What art thou doing here?" "Eating a cutlet." "To Reichenhall?" "Yes. But thou art homeward?" "Yes." "Thou hast proposed to Pani Emilia?" "No." "Then I forgive thee. Thou mayst go." "Keep thy conceits for a fitter season. Litka is in very great danger." Bukatski grew serious, and said, raising his brows,--"Ai, ai! Is that perfectly certain?" Pan Stanislav told briefly the opinion of the doctor. Bukatski listened for a while; then he said,-- "And is a man not to be a pessimist in this case? Poor child and poor mother! In the event of misfortune, I cannot imagine in any way how she will endure it." "She is very religious; but it is terrible to think of this." "Let us walk through the town a little," said Bukatski; "one might stifle here." They went out. "And a man in such straits is not to be a pessimist!" exclaimed Bukatski. "What is Litka? Simply a dove! Every one would spare her; but death will not spare her." Pan Stanislav was silent. "I know not myself now," continued Bukatski, "whether to go to Reichenhall or not. In Warsaw, when Pani Emilia is there, even I can hold out. Once a month I propose to her, once a month I receive a refusal; and thus I live from the first of one month to the first of the next. The first of the month has just passed, and I am anxious for my pension. Is the mother aware of the little girl's condition?" "No. The child is in danger; but perhaps a couple of years remain yet to her." "Ah! perhaps no more remain to any of us. Tell me, dost thou think of death often?" "No. How would that help me? I know that I must lose the case; therefore I do not break my head over it, especially before the time." "In this is the point,--we must lose, but still we keep up the trial to the end. This is the whole sense of life, which otherwise would be simply a dreary farce, but now it is a dull tragedy as well. As to me, I have three things at present to choose from: to hang myself, go to Reichenhall, or go to Monachium to see Boecklin's pictures once more. If I were logical, I should choose the first; since I am not, I'll choose Reichenhall. Pani Emilia is worth the Boecklins, both as to outline and color." "What is to be heard in Warsaw?" asked on a sudden Pan Stanislav, who had had that question on his lips from the first of the conversation. "Hast thou seen Mashko?" "I have. He has bought Kremen, he is a great landholder, and, since he has wit, he is using all his power not to seem too great. He is polite, sensible, flattering, accessible; he is changed, not to my advantage, it is true, for what do I care? but surely to his own." "Isn't he going to marry Panna Plavitski?" "I hear that he wants to. Thy partner, Bigiel, said something of this, also that Mashko bought Kremen on conditions more than favorable. Thou wilt find clearer news in the city."