German fiction -- Translations into English; Germany -- Fiction; Sin -- Fiction
"That's a sample for you, uncle," he said. "People shall do what I will
have them do, or go to the devil. And now listen again. When I decided
to come home, I knew perfectly well what a kettle of fish I should
find. And then I looked at my pistols (I have a splendid pair of
pistols, uncle dear, but I haven't got them here, because, just at
present, I don't need them to take aim at you), and I said to myself,
these beggars have helped me out of many a tight corner, where life and
death were the stakes, why should I let them rust in old Europe, when
the same will be for the most part nothing but a trouser-button. You
are a trouser-button, uncle, nothing more or less. Don't be
offended.... All I insist on is that you hold your tongue! I will have
that cursed intrigue (you know which!) buried for ever and ever. Should
it come to light, should I hear the slightest indication that you have
breathed a word of what you know, then I shall take out one of my
beautiful pistols and blow you into the skies. Do you believe me?"
"Don't joke," stuttered the old man, and squinted towards the door.
"You needn't be frightened, my dear little uncle," Leo laughed. "I told
you that I hadn't got them with me. They are not necessary yet; this is
only a preliminary warning. When I want you I shall find you, no matter
where you may be. I should take a heathenish joy in hunting you down.
We learn that sort of sport on the other side, uncle. Do you believe
me?"
The old steward cringed further backwards, and clinging to the
window-ledge, struggled to speak.
"How can you treat me like this?" he burst forth in half-strangled
utterance. "I would go through fire and water for you. I would have cut
off my right hand for you, and you shake your fist at me and threaten
me with pistol-shots, and all the rest of it."
"Only for a certain emergency, you know," Leo interposed.
"Such suspicion!" went on the old man; "such want of confidence! I have
kept as silent as the grave. I would rather have bitten my tongue out
than said anything.... I have been plagued and racked by conscience all
these years, and this is my reward!--this is my reward!"
In utter helplessness he began to cry like a baby. Leo waited till his
grief had subsided, and then gave his commands.
By that evening he was to have left the castle, and the neighbourhood
by the next morning. In case he should cherish ill-feeling and in
consideration of his being a relation, a month's salary should be paid
him at some place over the frontier--it was not certain where--probably
either at Warsaw or Wilna, so that he might lead a decent life.
The old man said, "Thank you," humbly, and grovelled.
"When shall the carriage be ready, uncle?" asked Leo, opening the door.
Uncle Kutowski said that he had only to pack and to bid the ladies
farewell, but if he might be allowed he should like to take a little
nap before his departure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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