Roumanian Stories, Translated from the Original Roumanian — John Shaqi
Roumanian Stories, Translated from the Original Roumanian
General
Roumanian Stories, Translated from the Original Roumanian
Romania -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, Romanian -- Translations into English
The narrow end of a saw appeared through the first hole, and started to
work with quick, regular movements. The plan was easy to understand;
four holes in four corners of one panel; the saw made cuts between
them; the gimlet was driven well home in the centre of the panel;
when the piece became totally separated from the main body of the
wood it was pulled out; through the opening thus made a strong hand
inserted itself, seized the bar, pushed it to one side and--Gentiles
are in Leiba's house.
In a few moments, this same gimlet would cause the destruction of
Leiba and his domestic hearth. The two executioners would hold the
victim prostrate on the ground, and Gheorghe, with heel upon his body,
would slowly bore the gimlet into the bone of the living breast as
he had done into the dead wood, deeper and deeper, till it reached
the heart, silencing its wild beatings and pinning it to the spot.
Leiba broke into a cold sweat; the man was overcome by his own
imagination, and sank softly to his knees as though life were ebbing
from him under the weight of this last horror, overwhelmed by the
thought that he must abandon now all hope of saving himself.
"Yes! Pinned to the spot," he said, despairingly. "Yes! Pinned to
the spot."
He stayed a moment, staring at the light by the window. For some
moments he stood aghast, as though in some other world, then he
repeated with quivering eyelids:
"Yes! Pinned to the spot."
Suddenly a strange change took place in him, a complete revulsion of
feeling; he ceased to tremble, his despair disappeared, and his face,
so discomposed by the prolonged crisis, assumed an air of strange
serenity. He straightened himself with the decision of a strong and
healthy man who makes for an easy goal.
The line between the two upper punctures of the panel was
finished. Leiba went up, curious to see the working of the tool. His
confidence became more pronounced. He nodded his head as though to say:
"I still have time."
The saw cut the last fibre near the hole towards which it was working,
and began to saw between the lower holes.
"There are still three," thought Leiba, and with the caution of
the most experienced burglar he softly entered the inn. He searched
under the bar, picked up something, and went out again as he entered,
hiding the object he had in his hand as though he feared somehow the
walls might betray him, and went back on tiptoe to the door.
Something terrible had happened; the work outside had ceased--there
was nothing to be heard.
"What is the matter? Has he gone? What has happened?" flashed through
the mind of the man inside. He bit his lower lip at such a thought,
full of bitter disappointment.
"Ha, ha!" It was an imaginary deception; the work began again, and he
followed it with the keenest interest, his heart beating fast. His
decision was taken, he was tormented by an incredible desire to see
the thing finished.
"Quicker!" he thought, with impatience. "Quicker!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account