CHAPTER IV

THE CDT-TABLE AND THE CHALLENGING GLOVES

The coming home of young Squire Casimir was celebrated with great solemnity at the palace of the Starosta. The thunder of the mortars, the roll of the drums, the blare of the trumpets, announced to the thronging crowd the moment when the parade carriage rolled over the drawbridge. In front of the gate stood a guard of honour of the assembled heydukes, under the command of the Castellan. The Starosta himself had come as far as the hall door to welcome his son.

Casimir, according to ancient custom, received his father's greeting on bended knee, and kissed his uplifted hand, whereupon the old man, thrusting his powerful palm into his son's well-thatched poll, lugged him to his feet by his hair, and, slapping his face gently at the same time, said: "Come, come, you have put on a mighty fine fleece since last I saw you." But immediately afterwards he kissed him on both cheeks, and the kiss obliterated the slap.

Heinrich got neither kisses nor slaps, he simply didn't count at all.

A hundred guests were in the large hall, all of them prominent noblemen and priests, and all of them embraced the young gentleman in turn, while Heinrich they only patted on the shoulder, and while every one said: "_Vitam pana!_"[16] to the nobleman's son, they only greeted the son of the pastor with: "_Badz zdrow!_"[17]

[Footnote 16: "Long live your honour!"]

[Footnote 17: "Good health to you!"]

Immediately after the first interchange of greetings the court tailor took the two youths beneath his protection. It was his duty to give them new clothes corresponding to their rank, they had ceased to belong to the category of students. Heinrich got a brand-new black velvet jacket with puff sleeves, a starched ruff, black atlas knee-breeches, with stockings, and shoes with silver buckles--the whole get-up was completed by a sword-belt, a broad silver chain wound round the breast with a large medallion hanging to it, and a black flowered taffety mantle fastened to the shoulder and reaching to the heels. When he had taken a good all-round look at himself in the mirror, he was quite proud of his costume. He fancied that it was a great distinction.

But it was not a distinction, but only a difference.

When he entered the great hall, its pomp and grandeur almost blinded him. The walls of the room were embellished by the portraits of the Lords of Bialystok. There were armorial shields everywhere, and in the corners stood the figures of men in armour. The lofty pointed windows perpetuated, in masterpieces of coloured glass, all manner of ancient Polish legends. The long table was crowded with artistic plate and drinking vessels of chased gold and silver, with confect-holders mimicing the figures of giraffes and elephants. In the midst was a large fountain, at the foot of which enamelled dolphins cast lavender-water high up in the air; and the enchanting spectacle was but enhanced by the costumes of a whole army of guests and the splendour of their weapons. Heinrich hardly recognized his dear friend Casimir. He was resplendent in such splendid raiment as the Polish magnates are only in the habit of wearing at coronations or similar ceremonies. In the midst of so much fur and velvet, Heinrich, in his simple black medical suit, felt almost like the inhabitant of another and much humbler planet. While the army of guests crowded round Casimir, so that every one might have a chance of embracing him at least once, Heinrich was simply thrust aside by an elbow or trodden on by one foot after another, and nobody even troubled to say: "_Wymow mie Pán!_"[18]

[Footnote 18: "Your pardon, sir!"]

Great was the crushing and pushing to get into the banqueting-hall, where every guest immediately sought out his proper place. This was quite an easy matter. Every guest who had ever dined at the Palace of Bialystok had his own beaker on which his name was engraved. As often as he returned thither so often was his particular beaker produced from the plate-chest. As for the spoons, knives, and forks, every guest brought his own with him. Aristocratic pride laid down this rule: "From the beaker out of which I drink none else may drink; the knife, fork, and spoon which touches my mouth none else may swallow--neither may I serve others so."

Heinrich would also have very much liked to know where he was to sit.

As a poor man he naturally began to look for his seat at the lowest end of the table.

At the head of the table a large armchair, carved with armorial bearings, had been placed, this was obviously the seat of the Starosta. On each side of it stood two smaller armchairs. All the other chairs were armless. The arm of a chair is rather in the way when a man has to drain his beaker to the very dregs. At the head of the opposite end of the long table was the seat of "the little master." _His_ beaker was a christening gift, a crystal goblet upon a golden base.

Heinrich fancied that he would find his seat by the side of his comrade's. But there he found a beaker with another name upon it.

He had to seek higher. He went searching from chair to chair for a silver beaker marked with his name. On the right-hand side of the table there was no trace of it. Perhaps it was on the left-hand side? Of course, it must be there.

Again he began from the bottom and worked his way up, but he could find no trace of his name.

By this time he had got to the topmost armchair. Merely out of curiosity he glanced at the silver beaker placed beside the plate. He couldn't believe his eyes, and his heart began to beat violently, for on that beaker he read the name--Klausner. But his wonder only lasted for a moment. The Christian name was not Heinrich, but Gottlieb. This place of honour by the side of the Starosta belonged to the Lutheran clergyman, on the opposite side to him was the Catholic bishop.

Thus did they exalt the simple curer of souls, while his son, the doctor, was not even included among the guests.

Much hurt he turned to the Major Domo.

"Then am _I_ not invited to the banquet?" he asked.

"Invited, doctorkin! What a question! Of course you are. Why, you are the most important person here. Why, the banquet couldn't begin without you."

"But where am I to sit, then?"

"I'll show you immediately. But you must first let all the other guests take their places. All their honours are now assembled. We are only waiting for his reverence, your dear father."

"But he arrived along with us."

"True for you. But their honours come in their coaches or on horseback, so that they may not make their green or yellow boots muddy on the road, while your dear father came all the way on foot, so that he has to have his shoes polished before he can come in."

This was honour indeed. First of all, however, the pastor had to go and pay his respects to the Starosta, and he appeared along with him in the banqueting-chamber when the heydukes threw open the folding-doors. It was such a large door that three men could enter it abreast; and three men _did_ enter now, the master of the house in the centre, with the bishop on his right and the pastor on his left.

At the appearance of the Starosta the trumpets blew a flourish, and every guest took his proper place at the table.

Then the bishop pronounced a long grace in Latin, every one present murmuring the Doxology after him, except the Rev. Master Klausner, who belonged to another confession, and who, after the Latin prayer was over, pronounced a blessing in his own language:--

"_Der Herr segne euch und sättige euch!_"[19]

[Footnote 19: "The Lord bless you and satisfy you!"]

Then followed the creaking of chairs drawn forward, and every one settled comfortably into his place.

Heinrich wondered what was going to happen to _him_.

He had not to wait long. A couple of bustling heydukes brought forward a little three-legged table, covered with a fine linen cloth, and placed it behind the armchair of the Starosta. They also placed a chair by the side of this little table, and put upon it a silver trencher, a beaker, and the usual dining apparatus. His knife, spoon, and fork were much more costly than the knives, spoons, and forks of the other guests. The Major Domo, with his ivory wand, indicated to the doctor that that was his place. The body-physician always sits behind the Starosta. It is his office to exercise a dietetical and gastronomical superintendence at the magnate's table.

And that he might have a board-fellow, the big mastiff Caro now came up, and Heinrich being his best-known acquaintance, he put his head on the table--he was a big dog, so he could just reach it. He was determined that Heinrich should have a _vis-à-vis_, anyhow.

Heinrich tried to perform the duties of his queer office with due dignity.

Every dish was put on his table first, and he had to taste each one of them first of all.

That of itself was a great dignity, surely! Every great man ought to order his table after a similar fashion. He ought to have a house-physician standing beside him at every dish, to say: "You are free to fill your distinguished stomach with that; but this, on the other hand, you are not so much as to look at."

Monsieur Heinrich was a disciple of Hahnemann, so he began to raise difficulties as early as the soup.

"Don't touch it, your Excellency!" said he. "It is poison. As the verse says: 'Ginger and saffron, nutmegs, cloves, and pepper only thicken the blood and clog the stomach.'"

The whole company laughed heartily, but they shovelled down their soup all the same.

The next dish was wild-boar's head stuffed with celery and truffles, and flanked with cold jelly.

Against this dish Heinrich was able to intone a whole litany when the master who invented it presented him with a small slice of it on a silver platter.

"The head of every beast is forbidden food," he said; "and as for the wild boar, no part of him is good, from hoof to scull. As for the truffle, it grows under ground, and brings those who eat it under ground; while celery inflames the blood, and gelatine neutralizes the gastric juices; it is no fit food for men."

At this the Starosta laughed more than ever.

"But you must take me at my word, gentlemen," insisted Heinrich. "I eat according to the principles of the immortal Hahnemann. That dish is poison to you, I say."

"It is a very slow poison. For the last fifty years I've been killing myself with it, and yet here I am," cried the Starosta.

"Yes; but it is the cause of the gout in your knees, the colic in your stomach, the spasms in your side. You may also thank it for your sleepless nights and the humming in your ears, as well as for heartburn, erysipelas, and St. Vitus's dance. I, your house-doctor, certify that you partook of this poisonous dish at your own table, and indigestion and apoplexy are only a prayer apart."

But Casimir spoilt everything by his intervention. From the other end of the table he bawled to his comrade--

"Come, come, old chap! Surely you don't want to play the part of Doctor Pedro Recio de Tiertafuera at the banquet given by Sancho Panza, in his official capacity of Governor! All these gentlemen have read 'Don Quixote,' you know."

And with these words he regularly flung his comrade out of his doctorial chair. The whole company laughed heartily at him, and even the Rev. Pastor himself apostrophized his son with the facetious citation:--

"_Descende Philippe, non sunt hic ollae!_"

"Then why have I been put here?" inquired Heinrich, in great wrath, of the Major Domo.

"Why? Why, to taste of every dish, to see that there is no deadly poison in it which might make a man suddenly ill."

"Then the dog Caro here could perform my office equally well."

And henceforth Heinrich flung the cut-off portion of every dish presented to him to taste into the jaws of the mastiff, who snapped them up in an instant, and was highly delighted with his new duties.

Thus the doctor himself absolutely starved during the sumptuous banquet, for not a single dish was ever brought back to him, the remains being sent into a side room, where, at a table without a table-cloth, sat the lower order of guests, such as the begging friars, the clerks who acted as secretaries, and the court poets. The latter usually went by the name of "court fools" when they had more than common genius, but not every poet merited this higher title, for there were bores among them too, and these remained poets, and nothing but poets.

The favourite amongst them all was the house-fool, Lupko, who had also been invited into the gentlemen's dining-hall, and was there practising every sort of tomfoolery, letting off literary squibs, imitating feline and canine concerts, and the squeaking of stuck pigs, turning his hat into twenty different shapes, tootling in a bottle, and drumming in the hollow of his hand, and drinking glasses of wine at the same time that he was imitating the scream of a peacock.

Naturally, in these things Heinrich could by no means compete with him.

All the guests treated Lupko with wine; but none of them said to the doctor, "What will you drink? Fetch wine for the doctor."

Casimir also joked familiarly with the jester--nay, he almost openly urged him to go along and try conclusions with the doctor.

Students love to heckle each other, especially if one of them has had a full skin at table.

So the fool skipped away to the doctor.

"_Servus humillimus collega!_ For colleagues we really are. Yes, _doctores ambo_! The only difference is that on your head is a college cap, and on mine a cap with pointed hare's-ears. _Evoe Bacche!_"

And with that he clapped Heinrich on the shoulder.

At this Heinrich was very angry, but still angrier was the mastiff to see his master hit on the shoulder by a hunch-backed rascal, so he rushed at him incontinently, placed his paws on his neck, and snatched from his head the fur cap adorned with the two projecting hare's-ears.

The fool tried to recover his cap, but the dog would not give it up, so a great debate began between the dog and the fool. The doctor's little table was overthrown in the midst of the scrimmage, and finally the cap was torn in two, half of it remaining in the hands of the fool, and the other half in the jaws of the mastiff.

"Silence, you God-forsaken rascals!" cried the Starosta; "don't you hear that his reverence is trying to say grace?" And with that he seized the Spanish cane which was standing beside his chair, and belaboured with it the dog's back and the jester's body at the same time, and so restored peace between them.

And now the reverend gentleman stood up in his place, and, raising his beaker unctuously aloft, pronounced a Latin grace full of graceful turns of expression, invoking blessings on the heads of the Starosta, his son, and their remotest posterity. The blessing was followed by a great clinking of glasses, and every guest drained his goblet to the very dregs.

When the din of the vivats and the blast of the trumpets had subsided, the Starosta spoke from his place at the head of the table.

"Deo Gratias, my thanks for all these pretty wishes. And look now, to show in what great respect my reverend neighbour here is held in heaven above, I may mention that his kind wish that my family might flourish in the days to come had scarce died away when an answer to his petition that instant arrived. For I have just received, from the glorious city of Vienna, a letter from my dear friend, Prince Maximilian Sonnenburg, in which he informs me that the dearest wish of his Excellency, and of his Excellency's consort, the Princess Ludmilla Rattenburg of Tannenfels and Bunteviéz, corresponds with mine, to wit, that their only daughter, the Princess Ingola Sonnenburg and Rattenburg should be betrothed to my son Casimir."

This famous piece of news was instantly greeted with a vivat which made the very rafters ring. Every guest hastened to congratulate Casimir.

But he, from the other end of the table, bawled to his father--

"But is the lady beautiful?"

"I have her portrait here. They sent it with the letter."

And he drew from his side-pocket a little miniature in a jewelled frame.

Naturally every one wished to look at it.

But the Starosta would not let it go out of his hand.

"Ho, ho! Softly, softly! It is only the bridegroom who has the right to look at it."

Then he turned round, knowing that Heinrich was behind him. "Look ye, my son," said he to the doctor, "take this portrait to Casimir, but show it only to him and to none other. You may look at it, too, because you are a doctor. Do you understand physiognomies? Can you say, from looking at this portrait, whether the little Princess is phlegmatic, or choleric, or, which God forbid, of a melancholy temperament?"

Well, this was a great distinction for Heinrich. He took the portrait to Casimir, and showed the portrait to him first of all.

The bride in the portrait was of mythological loveliness. She was painted as Sappho, in a Greek chlamys, with her golden tresses flowing down her shoulders, and her arms bare to the shoulder. The portrait, painted on ivory, was a masterpiece of water-colouring.

Casimir was unable to conceal his enthusiasm at the beauty of his bride. "She is a veritable goddess!" he cried.

"Worthy indeed of adorations!" cried Heinrich, with still greater emphasis.

Nobody else was allowed to look; only they two were so privileged.

But the jester burrowed his way out from beneath the table, and thrust his head between them that he might cast a glance at the portrait.

Heinrich gave him a box on the ears, and hid the picture from him.

"Would you?" said he; "this is no spectacle for fools."

Now a fool, even in those days, drew the line at a box on the ear, and did not take it kindly; on the contrary, it was apt to make him angry.

So, instead of his torn and tattered pointed cap, he drew forth his protean hat and placed it on his head, after forming it into the exact shape of the biretta worn by the Rev. Master Klausner. Then he wound round his neck a bed-curtain, making it take the guise of the reverend gentleman's well-creased cassock. And in this guise he planted himself beside the table and raised his glass.

The guests made a clatter with their glasses by way of indicating that Lupko was about to speak. At last there was silence, and the jester was able to begin.

In his voice and delivery he managed to throw an audacious imitation of the pastor. He dismissed his words through his nose with the same unctuous solemnity, and amplified the ends of his periods just as the reverend gentleman was wont to do.

"My worthy gentlemen," he began, "I also have to disemburden myself of a joyful piece of intelligence which has just reached me through the dog-post from Siberia, from the illustrious capital of mighty Siberia, Irkutsk. I have got the letter written in Tungusian hieroglyphics on reindeer parchment, and this letter informs me that the mighty Prince of the Samoyeds, Pan Subagalleros, on behalf of himself and his consort, her Highness Pana Csoroszlya, has this day betrothed his only daughter, Panicza Kaczamajka, to my only son Heinrich."

The army of guests burst into a loud ho, ho! at this farcical parody, the trumpets blew a frightfully loud flourish, every one roared with laughter, and even the worthy pastor himself smiled gently at the fooling.

For, after all, it was but fooling. Perhaps Heinrich would have laughed at it likewise if he had been drinking all through the banquet with the rest of the merry company. But remember that he had remained hungry and thirsty throughout, and a sober man in a society that has well drunken is a danger to mirth.

Casimir also had guffawed at the words of the fool. It was a rough jest, no doubt, but who would take the folly of a fool seriously?

Only Heinrich remained pale and silent, and pressed his lips together till the blood came.

"Come, comrade, why so dumfoundered? Surely you are not angry?" bawled Casimir.

But Heinrich continued moody and sulky.

* * * * *

The grand banquet was not terminated, but interrupted by a ball. The Starosta himself gave the signal by lighting his big meerschaum pipe, whereupon the other gentlemen followed his example, and began their beloved fumigation by the side of their black coffee. The musicians thereupon quitted the dining-room, and a short time elapsed, during which they also took a snack, and then the music began again over the heads of the guests, in the upper story of the palace, which could be reached from the dining-room by means of a spiral staircase.

As soon as the inspiring notes of a mazurka burst forth from above, the fiery youths spurned their chairs away, and without waiting for a special invitation, hastened up the spiral staircase into the dancing-room. Those of the elderly gentlemen whose feet were capable (after dinner) of grappling with the tortuous stairs, followed them.

On the upper floor was the dancing-room, brilliantly illuminated with wax candles, where were now assembled the flower of the belles and the pick of the stately matrons of the Lithuanian capital--a goodly company who reached the ballroom by the opposite staircase.

Heinrich, swallowing his wrath, and oblivious of the pangs of hunger, also hastened up to the dancing-room, which was now quite full of ladies.

The girls were standing, the more mature women were sitting, according to custom.

Heinrich also found the idol of his heart among the girls. Six years before she was a growing little lassie, now she was a damsel in full bloom. In those days they had dearly loved each other, and had sworn that they would belong to none else. There stood the beautiful and charming Tatiana in front of her mamma. She was wearing the Russian national costume, with an apron embroidered with pearls and a coif adorned with precious stones. She was the daughter of a Russian _chinovnik_[20] whose father had been sent from St. Petersburg to keep the Poles in order.

[Footnote 20: Official.]

The beautiful girl had grown in a marvellous manner during these six years, she was the tallest among the damsels present, and her lofty Russian coif made her appear even taller than she was.

Just then a good many couples were dancing a mazurka.

Heinrich made his way up to his former ideal, and, bowing first of all before her dear mamma, with a chivalrous flourish demanded the hand of her daughter for a dance. It was six years since last he had seen her.

The stately damsel proceeded deliberately to draw off her long, embroidered gauntlet.

Heinrich was amazed. What an odd custom for a lady to draw off her glove when invited to dance!

The young lady extended her hand towards Heinrich, her smile was somewhat peculiar.

"Miss Tatiana?" stammered Heinrich.

"Well, doctor! I thought you wanted to feel my pulse!"

Heinrich was crushed. They were making game of him. He was no cavalier, but only a doctor, apparently. He rather wondered the lady did not protrude her tongue as well, to make the consultation quite complete. It only needed that.

He seemed to have lost the use of his limbs, and stood there like a stone idol. But some one speedily came to his assistance by shoving him out of the way. It was Casimir. He signified that he desired a dance with the lady by simply stamping the ground with his foot, as became a cavalier, and she immediately gave herself up to him, and Casimir passed his arm around her slim waist and flew with her among the maze of dancers.

Heinrich gazed after them in stupefaction. So that was his former sweetheart, and this his former comrade! How the girl's eyes sparkled when she gazed at the face of her partner! They seemed to hold one another fast by the eyes. The mazurka has its charm, certainly. The cavalier stands in the midst with his arms folded, after dismissing his partner, who moves gracefully round him in a circle. Yet the damsel gazes continually into the eyes of her cavalier, and the magic of his eyes draws her back to him again. And then it is as though they were whispering to each other.

When the dance was over, Casimir led his partner to the credenz-table and offered her refreshments. Thither also strolled Tatiana's papa, worthy Nicholas Eskimov. The girl embraced her father, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered something in his ear. Then she flew back into the _colonne_ on the arm of her partner. There are many figures in the mazurka, Heinrich had every opportunity of studying them to the end from a window recess.

When the dance was over, Casimir returned his partner to her mamma, and after a good deal of genuflecting and hand-kissing, took his leave of her. Heinrich at once hastened to his comrade and began to reproach him.

"Why did you take my sweetheart from me?" he asked.

Casimir first of all regarded him with amazement, and then laughed in his face.

"What a foolish chap you are! Why, it was only natural that I should have the first dance with the fair Tatiana in our own house. That is the custom all the world over."

"Why is it the custom all the world over?"

"Why? It seems to me that you do not realize that during the six years when you and I have been walking up and down the earth, not only the little girl has grown something bigger, but her papa also. The chinovnik, whom six years ago you helped to copy legal documents, is nowadays Governor of Grodno. His Excellency now lives in the town, and orders about even my father, the Starosta. And I am only my father's little son. Little Tatiana has grown big while you weren't looking at her, if you want her you must grow bigger yourself. Only don't make such an ecce homo face; go, rather, and pay your respects to his Excellency, the Governor. He is a very big wig now, I can tell you!"