Whirlpools: A Novel of Modern PolandSienkiewicz, Henryk
General
Whirlpools: A Novel of Modern Poland
Sienkiewicz, Henryk
Poland -- Fiction
"I do not know; but you must agree that there is a certain moral
unsavoriness in the situation in which a man, after committing a wrong,
afterwards asks himself or others, 'What can I do?'"
"Oh, that was only a façon de parler," replied Krzycki, "for, on the
whole, I know perfectly. I will publish the advertisements and with
that everything will end. The penance, which the priest at the proper
time imposed upon me, I have performed, and I do not intend to make any
further atonement."
To this Gronski said:
"Sero molunt deorum molæ. Do you understand what that means in Polish?"
"Having assumed the management of Jastrzeb, I sowed all my latinity
over its soil, but it has not taken root."
"That means: The mills of the gods grind late."
Krzycki began to laugh and, pointing his hand in the direction of the
old mill, said:
"That one will not grind anything any more; I guarantee that."
Further conversation was interrupted by their meeting near the gates
two indistinct forms, with which they almost collided, for though the
moon had already ascended, in the old linden walk it was completely
dark.
Ladislaus thought that they were the lady visitors enjoying an evening
stroll, but for certainty asked, "Who is there?"
"We," answered an unknown feminine voice.
"And who in particular?"
"Servants of Pani Otocka and Miss Anney."
The young man recalled the young girl whose dark head obstructed his
view of the lustrous hair of the English woman during the May mass.
"Aha!" he said. "Do not you young girls fear to walk in the darkness? A
were-wolf might carry off one of you."
"We are not scared," answered the same voice.
"And perhaps I am a were-wolf?"
"A were-wolf does not look like that."
Both girls began to laugh and withdrew a few steps; at the same time a
bright ray darted through the leaves and illumined the white forehead,
black eyebrows, and the whites of the eyes of one of them, which
glittered greenishly.
Krzycki, who was flattered by the words that a werewolf did not look
like that, gazed at those eyes and said:
"Good-night!"
"Good-night!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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