The Doll (112 page)

This time he resolutely recalled the image of Izabela; resolutely, he observed all its statuesque features, the ash-blonde hair, the iridescent eyes changing from blue to black. And it seemed to him that on her face, her neck, her shoulders and breast he saw the stamp, the traces of Starski's kisses …

‘Szuman was right,' he thought, ‘I am truly cured …'

But slowly, however, anger died in him, and its place was once again taken by grief and sorrow.

During the next few days, Wokulski read no more. He entered into a lively correspondence with Suzin and thought a great deal. He thought that in his present position, after being shut up in his study for almost two months, he had ceased being a man and was beginning to become something like an oyster which, stuck in the same spot, accepts from the world whatever chance happens to throw its way.

And what had accident given him?

First, he put aside the books, some of which had shown to him that he was Don Quixote, and others had aroused within him an interest in a marvellous world where men had power over the forces of Nature. So he no longer wanted to be Don Quixote, and desired power over the forces of Nature.

Then, in turn, Szlangbaum and Szuman had visited him, and he learned from them that two Jewish parties were struggling together to inherit his control of the trading company. There was no one else in the whole country able to develop his ideas; no one except the Jews, who had come forward with all their arrogance of race, their cunning, their ruthlessness, and yet they still expected him to believe that his decline and their triumph would be advantageous to the country.

In view of this, he felt such a horror for commerce, trading companies and profits of any kind that he was surprised by himself: in what manner had he been able to mix in such things for almost two years? ‘I gained a fortune for her,' he thought, ‘Commerce … Commerce and I! It was I who acquired over half a million roubles in two years, I who mixed with economic card-sharpers, bet my life and work on a single card, well … And I won. I — an idealist, a scholar, I — who understand perfectly well that a man couldn't earn half a million roubles in a lifetime, no, not in three lifetimes … And the only consolation I had from this card-sharping was the certainty that I, at least didn't rob or cheat … Obviously, God looks after the stupid.'

Then again, chance had brought him news of Stawski's death in the letter from Paris, and from that moment on memories of Mrs Stawska and of Geist in turn awoke within him. ‘To tell the truth,' he thought, ‘I ought to return my exploited fortune to the community. Our country is full of poverty and ignorance, and these poor and ignorant people are at the same time the most admirable material … The only way to do so, however, would be to marry Stawska. She certainly wouldn't be frightened by my plans, but would be my most faithful helper. After all, she knows the meaning of work and poverty, and is so noble …'

Thus he reasoned, though he felt differently: he despised the people he wanted to render happy. He felt that Szuman's pessimism had uprooted his passion for Izabela, but had also poisoned him. It was difficult for him to deny that the human race consisted either of hens flirting with a cockerel, or wolves chasing a she-wolf. And that whichever way he turned, the chances were nine out of ten that he would encounter an animal, rather than a man.

‘May the devil take him, suggesting that sort of cure,' he murmured.

Then he began thinking about Szuman. Three men had observed strongly animal traits in the human species: he himself, Geist and Szuman. But he believed that animals in human form were exceptions, and that the community consisted of single individuals. Geist, on the contrary, claimed that the human community is animal, and good individuals are exceptions: Geist also believed that in time, the good people would multiply and dominate the earth — and for over a decade he had been working on an invention to bring about this triumph.

Szuman also claimed that the great majority of men are animals, but he neither believed in a better future, nor did he offer this consolation. For him, the human species was condemned to eternal animalism, in which only the Jews stood out like pike amidst minnows.

‘A fine philosophy, indeed,' thought Wokulski. However, he felt that Szuman's pessimism would soon flourish in his own wounded soul, as in a freshly ploughed field. He felt that love for Izabela was dying in him, and so was his anger. For if the whole world consisted of animals, there was no good reason to be insane about one of them, or to be angry because she was an animal, no better and certainly no worse than others.

‘A devilish cure!' he kept thinking. ‘Yet who knows but it isn't right? I have gone catastrophically bankrupt for my views: who will promise me that Geist isn't wrong in his ideas, or that Szuman isn't? Rzecki an animal, Stawska, Geist, I myself … Ideals — they are painted cribs in which there is painted grass that cannot feed anyone. So why sacrifice oneself for some people, or chase after others? I must cure myself, that's all, and devour pork or pretty women by turns, and drink good wine into the bargain. Read a little, travel sometimes, go to a concert, and thus live to see old age.'

A week before the meeting that was to decide the fate of the trading company, visits to Wokulski became increasingly frequent. Merchants called, so did aristocrats, lawyers — all urging him not to abandon his position, and not to threaten an institution that was, after all, his own work. Wokulski received his callers with such icy indifference that they didn't even feel like setting out their arguments: he said he was tired and sick, and must resign. The callers left, without hope: each admitted, however, that Wokulski must be gravely ill. He had lost weight, spoke briefly and brusquely, and fever burned in his eyes.

‘He has killed himself with avarice!' said the merchants.

A few days before the final date, Wokulski summoned his attorney and asked him to inform the shareholders that in accordance with the agreement he had with them, he was withdrawing his capital and leaving the company. The others might do likewise.

‘And the money?' asked the attorney.

‘It's already in the bank for them: I have accounts with Suzin.'

The attorney withdrew, upset. On the very same day, the Prince called on Wokulski: ‘I've been hearing the most extraordinary things!' the Prince began, shaking him by the hand. ‘Your attorney is behaving as though you really intended to desert us.'

‘Do you think I am joking, Prince?'

‘Well, no … I think you have observed something dishonourable in our agreement, and …'

‘And am bargaining, so as to force you to sign another, which will lessen your interest and increase my income?' Wokulski caught him up. ‘No, Prince, I am perfectly serious about resigning.'

‘You will disappoint your partners.'

‘How so? You gentlemen entered into the company for only a year, and you yourselves asked that the business be conducted so that each partner might withdraw his investment within a month of dissolving the agreement. That was your plain request. I, on the other hand, have infringed it inasmuch as I will repay the money, not within a month, but within an hour of dissolving the company.'

The Prince sank into an armchair. ‘The company will continue,' he said quietly, ‘but the Hebrews will enter in your place.'

‘That is your own choice.'

‘The Jews in our company!' sighed the Prince. ‘They will speak Hebrew at committee meetings … Our unhappy country! Our unhappy language!'

‘No fear of that,' Wokulski interrupted. ‘The majority of our shareholders are in the habit of speaking French at committee meetings, but nothing has happened to Polish, so surely it won't be damaged by a few phrases in Yiddish.'

The Prince blushed: ‘But Hebrews, sir … A foreign race … Now, too, there's general hostility towards them.'

‘Hostility by the crowd proves nothing … But who is preventing you gentlemen from collecting sufficient capital, as the Jews do, and entrusting it, not to Szlangbaum, but to one of the Christian merchants?'

‘We don't know a single one we can trust.'

‘But you know Szlangbaum?'

‘In any case, we haven't sufficiently gifted men of our own kind,' the Prince interrupted. ‘They are clerks, not financiers.'

‘And what was I? I was a clerk, too, even a pantry-boy in a restaurant at one time; yet the company brought in the expected profits.'

‘You're an exception.'

‘How do you know you wouldn't find more exceptions in wine-cellars or behind counters? You must search for them.'

‘The Jews come to us of their own accord.'

‘So that's it!' Wokulski exclaimed. ‘The Jews come to you, or you will go to them, but a Christian parvenu cannot even come to you, because of the obstacles he encounters on the way. I know something of this. Your doors are so tightly closed to tradesmen and industrialists that they must either bombard them with hundreds of thousands of roubles in order to open them, or must squeeze through like a bug. Open your doors a little, and perhaps you'll be able to get along without the Jews.'

The Prince covered his eyes with both hands: ‘Oh, Mr Wokulski, this … what you say is very right, and very bitter … Very cruel … Less of this, though. I understand your resentment towards us, but surely … There are certain obligations towards the community.'

‘No, I don't regard getting fifteen per cent annually on my capital as the carrying out of an obligation. And I don't think I'd be any worse citizen if I drew the line at five per cent.'

‘But we are spending this money,' retorted the Prince, who was already offended. ‘People live around us …'

‘And I will spend money, too. I shall go to Ostend for the summer, to Paris for the autumn, and to Nice in the winter.'

‘I beg your pardon … People live on us not only abroad … How many local craftsmen …'

‘Have to wait for what they are owed for a year or longer,' Wokulski caught him up. ‘Both you and I, Prince, know these patrons of Polish industry, we even have them in our company.'

The Prince jumped up. ‘Ah, this is unworthy, Mr Wokulski!' he said breathlessly. ‘It's true we have great faults, even sins, but we did not commit any of them towards you. You had our cordiality, our respect …'

‘Respect!' cried Wokulski, laughing. ‘Do you suppose, Prince, that I didn't know what it was based on, and what sort of position it assured me among you all? Mr Stawalski, Mr Niwiński, even … Mr Starski, who never did anything and got his money Heaven knows where, stood ten storeys higher than I in your estimation. What am I saying? Any foreign vagabond could get into your drawing-rooms, which I had to conquer with fifteen per cent interest on the capital entrusted to me. It is these people, not I who had your respect. Bah! They even had far wider-reaching privileges … Although each of these respected men is worth less than the doorman in my store, for he does something, and at least doesn't infect the community.'

‘Mr Wokulski, you do us an injustice. I understand what you mean, and am ashamed, upon my word I am. But after all, we aren't responsible for the offences of individuals.'

‘On the contrary, you are all responsible, for those individuals have grown up among you and what you, Prince, call “offences”, are only the results of your opinions, of your contempt for all work and all obligations.'

‘Resentment is speaking through you,' replied the Prince, making to leave. ‘Justified resentment, but perhaps mistakenly aimed … Goodbye, sir. So you are leaving us as sacrifices to the Hebrews?'

‘I hope you will come to a better understanding with them than with us,' said Wokulski ironically.

The Prince had tears in his eyes. ‘I thought,' he said, moved, ‘that you would be a golden bridge between us and those who … are increasingly drawing apart from us.'

‘I wanted to be a bridge, but it was sawn away underneath and has collapsed now,' replied Wokulski, bowing.

‘Let us return, then, to the barricades of the Holy Trinity!'

‘This is not called for, yet … It's a partnership with the Jews, that's all.'

‘So that is your view?' asked the Prince, turning pale. ‘So I … am no longer in the company. Oh, unhappy country …'

He nodded and went out.

Finally the meeting to decide the fate of the company for trading with the Empire took place. First, Wokulski's committee delivered a report for the past year. It appeared that the turnover had increased the capital tenfold or more, bringing not fifteen but eighteen per cent. On hearing this, the shareholders were excited, and the Prince moved they thank the committee and the absent Wokulski by rising to their feet. Then Wokulski's lawyer took the floor and stated that his client was resigning on account of ill-health, not only from the committee, but also from the company. Everyone had been prepared in advance for this news, but it made a very depressing effect.

Taking advantage of a pause, the Prince asked for silence and informed those present that he too was resigning from the company as result of Wokulski's resignation. Having made this statement, he at once left the council room; on going out, however, he said to one of his friends: ‘I never had any talent for trade, and Wokulski is the only man to whom I can entrust the honour of my name. Today he is gone, so I have nothing more to do here either.'

‘But the dividends?' his friend whispered.

The Prince looked at him. ‘What I did was not for dividends, but for this unhappy country,' he replied. ‘I wanted to inject a little fresh blood into our sphere, and fresher views, but I must admit I lost, and it wasn't Wokulski's fault either … This unhappy country!'

The Prince's departure, though unexpected, created less of a stir: for those present already knew that the company would continue operations. Now one of the lawyers came forward and, in a trembling voice, read a very beautiful speech, which stated that with Wokulski's resignation, the company had lost not only its leader, but also five-sixths of its capital. ‘It ought therefore to collapse,' the speaker continued, ‘and to overwhelm the entire country, ruining thousands of workers, hundreds of families …'