Read Online Free Book

The Rainbow

Page 39

She was the daughter of a Polish landowner who, deeply in

debt to the Jews, had married a German wife with money, and who

had died just before the rebellion. Quite young, she had married

Paul Lensky, an intellectual who had studied at Berlin, and had

returned to Warsaw a patriot. Her mother had married a German

merchant and gone away.

Lydia Lensky, married to the young doctor, became with him a

patriot and an émancipée. They were poor, but they

were very conceited. She learned nursing as a mark of her

emancipation. They represented in Poland the new movement just

begun in Russia. But they were very patriotic: and, at the same

time, very "European".

They had two children. Then came the great rebellion. Lensky,

very ardent and full of words, went about inciting his

countrymen. Little Poles flamed down the streets of Warsaw, on

the way to shoot every Muscovite. So they crossed into the south

of Russia, and it was common for six little insurgents to ride

into a Jewish village, brandishing swords and words, emphasizing

the fact that they were going to shoot every living

Muscovite.

Lensky was something of a fire-eater also. Lydia, tempered by

her German blood, coming of a different family, was obliterated,

carried along in her husband's emphasis of declaration, and his

whirl of patriotism. He was indeed a brave man, but no bravery

could quite have equalled the vividness of his talk. He worked

very hard, till nothing lived in him but his eyes. And Lydia, as

if drugged, followed him like a shadow, serving, echoing.

Sometimes she had her two children, sometimes they were left

behind.

She returned once to find them both dead of diphtheria. Her

husband wept aloud, unaware of everybody. But the war went on,

and soon he was back at his work. A darkness had come over

Lydia's mind. She walked always in a shadow, silenced, with a

strange, deep terror having hold of her, her desire was to seek

satisfaction in dread, to enter a nunnery, to satisfy the

instincts of dread in her, through service of a dark religion.

But she could not.

Then came the flight to London. Lensky, the little, thin man,

had got all his life locked into a resistance and could not

relax again. He lived in a sort of insane irritability, touchy,

haughty to the last degree, fractious, so that as assistant

doctor in one of the hospitals he soon became impossible. They

were almost beggars. But he kept still his great ideas of

himself, he seemed to live in a complete hallucination, where he

himself figured vivid and lordly. He guarded his wife jealously

against the ignominy of her position, rushed round her like a

brandished weapon, an amazing sight to the English eye, had her

in his power, as if he hypnotized her. She was passive, dark,

always in shadow.

PrevPage ListNext