"Will we," he said to himself, "however, remain amidst these convulsions, waves, and whirlwinds? Whirlpools? Whirlpools!--and of sand! Sand is burying the whole of Poland and transforming her into a wilderness, on which jackals live. If this is so, then it would be best to put a bullet in the head.--I am curious as to what Gronski would say to this--but lightning has struck his head and it is of no use to speak to him.--We are lost past all help? That is untrue! Beneath these whirlpools which are whirling upon the surface of our life is something which Swidwicki did not perceive. There is more than elsewhere, for there is a bottomless depth of suffering. There plainly is not in the world greater misfortune than ours. With us the people awake in the morning and follow the plough in the field, go to the factory, to the offices, behind the benches in the shops, and all manner of labor--in pain. They go to sleep in pain. That suffering is as boundless as the expanse of the sea while the whirlpools are but ripples upon that expanse. And why do we suffer thus? Of course, we might, at once, to-morrow, breathe more freely and be happier. It would be sufficient for every one to say to Her, that Poland, of whom Swidwicki says that she is perishing, 'Too much dost Thou pain me, too much dost Thou vex me; therefore I renounce Thee and from this day wish to forget Thee.'--And nevertheless nobody says that; not even such a Swidwicki, who prevaricated when he said it is all one to him; not even they who throw bombs, and murder sisters and brothers!--And if it is so that we prefer to suffer than renounce Her, then where are the jackals and where is Her destruction? Jackals seek carrion, not suffering! So She lives in every one of us, in all of us together, and will survive all the whirlpools in the world. And we will set our teeth and will continue to suffer for Thee, Mother, and we--and if God so wills it,--and our children and grandchildren will not renounce neither Thee nor hope." Here Szremski was touched by his own thoughts, but dawn brightened his countenance. He found an answer to the question which Swidwicki thrust into his soul. Walking, he began to repeat: "For nothing, nobody would consent to suffer thus." After which it occurred to his mind that to suffer for Her was not yet sufficient, for he began to rub his hands and turn up his rumpled sleeves, as if he wanted at once to do some important and urgent work. But, after a while, he observed that he was in the hotel, so he smiled, with his sincere, peculiar smile, and said aloud: "Ha! It cannot be helped. To-morrow I must return to my hole and push the wheelbarrow along." And suddenly he sighed: "To my solitary hole." After which, he, himself, not knowing why, recollected what Swidwicki had told him about the breaking of Krzycki's matrimonial engagement, and his thoughts, like winged birds, began to fly to Zalesin. FOOTNOTES: