I began to write the letters, of which there were to be three: to his
wife, to his son, and to the priest. In the course of my stay in
Siberia I had written so many similar letters that I had gained no
little facility in this kind of composition. I therefore wrote
quickly, only asking for a few particulars. The shoemaker crept from
the bed, on which he had hitherto been sitting, to the chair standing
by the table, and bending over this followed the movement of my pen
attentively, ready to answer any questions. Maciej cleaned out his
pipe in silence. I finished the letters, and proceeded to read them.
Stanisław sent his wife fifty roubles. As he retained a most
affectionate remembrance of his faithful Basia, loved her possibly
more now than twenty years ago, and could never speak of her without
deep emotion, the letter to her corresponded to the feelings of his
youth. He was paler than usual as he listened to it, and he tried to
say something, but his lips trembled and the words caught in his
throat. When the reading was finished, however, Stanisław wriggled in
the way peculiar to him, and, after blowing his nose several times,
finally articulated: "Now I will sign." Having discovered his
spectacles in the table drawer and duly fixed them on his nose, the
shoemaker pointed to the place where the signature was to be put, and
began:
"Es, tee." He had already opened his mouth to pronounce the third
letter, when the incautious Maciej, who had behaved most properly
while I was writing, unexpectedly interrupted with:
"If you would also----"
He burst in with this, but of course did not finish. The shoemaker
laid down the pen, lifted his head high, so as to look through his
spectacles at Maciej--who without doubt was already regretting his
ill-timed remark--and said drily:
"Maciej, you are hindering me."
Maciej grew very red, and, naturally, did not utter another word. The
shoemaker finished writing his name without further interruption, and
took out the money. In order to avoid mistakes, he at once enclosed it
with the letter in an addressed envelope.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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