For the Right. Karl Emil Franzos
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sympathised with the judge, Barabola. "I pray you, reverend sir," wrote the lawyer, "to make known to him the enclosed verdict as best you can; for I am afraid the poor man will be crushed and not easily lift up his head again. The legal means are exhausted, the lawyer can do nothing more; let the pastor, then, come in and heal the wound."
The good pope was troubled, his apprehension nowise lessening on hearing how the first verdict had overpowered his friend. "Poor man," he said; "poor dear child! how will he take it?"
With not a little trepidation, therefore, he went to see Taras upon his return from the mountains, endeavouring to prepare him for the bad news by a rather lengthy and well-considered speech. Taras however, behaved otherwise than the pope had anticipated. He grew white, and the deep furrow between his brows appeared more threatening, but his voice was firm as he asked, "Then the upper court has upheld the first verdict?"
"Yes," said Father Leo, gently. "But you must not take it too much to heart, you have tried honestly."
"Let me know what they say," interrupted Taras, as calm as before, but it might have been noticed that he leant heavily on the table beside which he was standing.
The pope produced the writ, reading and explaining. The court dismissed the appeal, seeing no reason why the trial should be repeated, it being fully evident that the former examination had satisfied the demands of justice. The lower court's verdict, therefore, must be upheld.
Taras had listened to the end with the same rigid mien. "Thank you," he said, when Father Leo had done. "But now leave me alone. You too, Anusia; I must think it over."
"What use in farther troubling?" demurred the pope. "Dr. Starkowski says especially that the legal means are exhausted; which means that there is nothing further to be done. You must submit to the will of God."
"We will come back to that presently," said Taras, with a ghastly smile, which quite frightened the pope. "You shall not be cheated out of your sermon, but not now … not now!" He repeated the words almost passionately.
Father Leo still hesitated; but Anusia interfered. She had been sitting in a corner, weeping; but now she rose. "Stay, pope," she entreated, taking hold of Taras's hand. "Husband," she cried, shrilly, "fly into whatever rage you like, thrash the rascal at the manor house till he cannot move a limb, if it will ease you; but do not hide your wrath within yourself. Do not look so stony; it kills me, husband. I am maddened with fear! I know why you would have us leave you--you are going to lay hands on yourself!"
"No!" cried Taras, solemnly. "God knows, I have no such thought." But again the smile played about his mouth. "Be at peace, wife," he added; "I have never stood in more grievous need of health and life than now. Leave me."
They saw they must obey, but they remained standing outside the closed door, listening anxiously. They hoped the terrible tension of his heart might be lessened now by the pouring forth of his sorrow, but they heard nothing save his measured step. It ceased at length, and all was still.
"Come!" said the poor wife, dragging the pope to a small window which gave them a peep into the room. They saw Taras, sitting still, resting his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. He sat motionless.
"We had better leave him to fight it out," said Father Leo, "his is a strong heart, and he will get over it."
But Anusia could not conquer her fears. "I must watch him," she moaned, the hot tears trickling down her face. "It is more than you think! Why, he is like a child at other times, never hiding the thoughts that move him; and now he cannot even speak to me or you!"
The pope endeavoured to comfort her, but it was ill trying when he was anxious enough himself. He left her presently to visit a sick parishioner who was waiting for him, returning in about an hour.
Anusia had not stirred from the little window. "He only moved once," she whispered, hoarsely, "and it was awful to behold. I watched him, hardly daring to breathe, and saw him rise slowly and lift the fingers of his right hand to heaven. His face was stony, never a muscle he moved, but his eyes could not hold back the tears, and they ran heavily down his death-like cheeks--ah, Father Leo, it must have been an awful oath he swore to himself--and now he sits rigid as before, staring hopelessly."
"That won't do," murmured the pope, opening the door rather noisily and entering. He was resolved not to leave the room again, even if Taras should dismiss him peremptorily. But there was no fear of that.
The judge rose, and met him quietly, almost serenely. "You are right, Father Leo," he said, "it is no use to keep on troubling! I have well-nigh worn out my brains, and am not a bit further than before! … There is just one thing though I want to know: you told me the lawyer had written that all the legal means were now exhausted--are you sure? are these his very words?"
"Yes; it is quite plain."
"But I am not certain. For I remember that our own judge, at Ridowa, when I was a boy, had a protracted law-suit with a cousin of his about some will that was questioned. The district court decided in his favour; but the cousin appealed, and the court at Lemberg was on his side. The judge thereupon took the case to a supreme court at Vienna, and there he obtained his right. So you see there must be judges at Vienna, who are over the court at Lemberg."
"Taras," cried Anusia, "surely you are not thinking of going to law at Vienna? Whoever could pay the costs?"
"Wife," he said solemnly, "if you knew what is at stake, you would ask me on your knees to plead the cause at Vienna if we were beggars ever after. However, I must first find out about it. Not that I doubt Dr. Starkowski, for he is honest, and will have written nothing but the truth; but I must have it from his own lips."
He was not able to set out for Colomea on the spot, having to arrange with the mandatar first concerning the spring labour due by the peasantry. And matters were not so easily settled as in the autumn, for Mr. Hajek was relieved of his fears as to a possible re-examination of witnesses, and showed his true colours. He would no longer heed Father Leo's suggestions, but set him aside as a meddling priest who had better not poke into mundane concerns. It was, therefore, not without much yielding to unfair demands that Taras could come to an understanding with the rapacious steward, after which he was free to depart on his journey, carrying with him in a leather belt all the ready money in his possession--the silver thalers and golden ducats he had inherited of old Iwan, or gained by his own industry.
On his entering the lawyer's office, the enlightened Stupka no longer took alarm; but all the more frightened was the kind-hearted attorney himself.
"Why, man!" he cried, aghast, "you look ten years older than when last I saw you. Is it the lawsuit which so worries you? You must not give way like that. Remember that you have a wife and children, and not only a parish, to live for."
"It was an evil year," said Taras; "but I have not come to make complaints to you, sir, but only to settle two points. Firstly, what is it I owe you?"
The lawyer brought down his ledger and named the sum--close upon two hundred and fifty florins. "We have to bear the costs, you see," he said in excuse.
"Never mind," said Taras, undoing his belt and counting out the money. "Now for the second point. You have written to our Father Leo that nothing more can be done. But are there not higher judges at Vienna?"
"Not for this matter," returned Starkowski; "there certainly is a high court of justice at Vienna, but cases can only be taken thither when the district court and the provincial court of appeal have differed in their verdicts!"
"That is bad," said Taras. "But you spoke to me of another way last year--a prosecution for perjury."
"Yes, but I did not advise it, and would not advise it now," cried the lawyer, eagerly. "Can you not see that none of these witnesses will own to being perjured, and you will hardly succeed in bringing the crime home to them--for where is your evidence? And even if you had evidence, in the case of some who may have betrayed themselves by their own foolish talk, and could get them convicted, you will hardly escape going to prison with them. For those whom you failed to convict would be all the more spiteful, and would have you up