Katarzyna goes nowhere without Agnieszka, and everyone knows that nothing can get done without her there now. Lately the castellan himself makes appointments with his wife through Agnieszka. Agnieszka is serious and silent. A “walking mystery,” the castellan calls her, or a “Maid of Orleans.” But in her company, his wife softens, and the blade of her malice, which has so often smitten her husband, is blunted. Now the three of them eat dinner together, and—it must be admitted—since Agnieszka took over the kitchen, their meals have started tasting better. The two women even sleep in the same room. Let the girls do as they please, thinks the castellan.
Now Agnieszka unbraids her mistress’s and dear friend’s hair before the mirror, so as to brush it and rebraid it before she goes to bed.
“I’m losing hair,” says Mrs. Kossakowska. “I’m practically bald already.”
“What are you talking about? Your hair has always been this way, thin but strong.”
“No, I’m practically bald. Don’t be silly—don’t lie to me . . . Who cares about hair! I am required to wear bonnets, regardless.”
Agnieszka patiently brushes her thin hair. Mrs. Kossakowska shuts her eyes.
Suddenly she gives a start, so that Agnieszka’s hand freezes where it is over her head.
“One more letter, my dear,” she says. “I forgot.”
“No, no, my lady. Work is done for the day,” answers Agnieszka, going back to her brushing.
Then Mrs. Kossakowska grabs her by the waist and sits her down on her lap. The girl doesn’t resist. She is smiling. Mrs. Kossakowska kisses her neck.
“Just one little note to that pompous, sad old bishop.”
“Fine, but from bed, and with your broth.”
“You’re a little shrew, you know that?” says Katarzyna, petting Agnieszka between the shoulder blades, like a dog, and then releasing her from her embrace.
Then, sitting in bed, leaning back against large cushions, almost invisible beneath the flounces of her nightcap, she dictates:
Having returned to Podolia, I hasten to send Your Excellency my warmest Greetings, heartily congratulating you on the Lwów Bishopric after the terrible Misfortune that befell Your Excellency’s Predecessor, Miko?aj Dembowski, may he rest in Peace.
At the same Time, I wish to recommend to you, Father, a distant Relative of my Husband, one Antoni Kossakowski, who after many years of far-flung Peregrinations has come back into the Arms of the Republic of Nobles and has just now come to me with a Petition, asking for my Intercession as a Relation of his. This Kossakowski has a great Talent in all the oriental Languages, but especially in Hebrew. I have no Doubt that Your Excellency’s keen Attention has already turned to those miserable Jews who, like blind Men, seek the true Faith, feeling their Way toward the one Light of the Christian Religion, which I heard about here in Kamieniec, as everyone is now discussing it. We were able to get Backing from the King for those pour Souls, and I am wholeheartedly with them, also because I have long since looked at them, these Children of Moses, and seen their difficult Lives here, for which they are responsible so long as they hold on to their Jewish Superstitions. I would be extremely grateful for any little Word from Your Excellency, though of course I have no wish to fatigue or annoy.
I will soon be traveling to Lwów, I am only waiting for the Weather to improve, and I relish the great Hope that I shall find Your Excellency in good Health. And may Your Excellency never forget that you are always very welcome here, whether in Kamieniec, where my Husband can more often be found, or in Busk, where I am frequently.
Father Pikulski writes to Senator ?ubieński, Bishop of Lwów
I wish to inform Your Excellency that during your absence from Lwów I have managed to discreetly glean some information about Mrs. Kossakowska’s protégé. It turns out that Mr. Moliwda (his name apparently comes from an island on the Greek seas that belongs to him, although confirmation of such a thing is impossible) spent a certain portion of his tempestuous life in Wallachia, where he was a superior, or, as they called it, an elder in a community that seems to have been of Bogomils, also known to us as the Khlysts, or Whips. But he is in fact none other than Antoni Kossakowski of the ?lepowron coat of arms, the son of a man named Remigian, a Hussar ensign, while his mother came from the Kamieński family of ?mud?. For twenty-four years, he was considered missing. And only now has he reappeared in his native country under the pseudonym of “Moliwda.”
On the subject of this heresy that has been festering for many years amongst the faithful Orthodox, I know only that they believe that the world was not created by a living God, but rather by his evil brother, Satanael. This is why all manner of evil and death prevails upon the earth. This renegade Satanael assembled the world out of matter, but he was unable to breathe life into it, so he asked the good God to do that. God, in turn, gave souls to every creature, which is why they believe that matter is evil, while the soul is good. They also believe that the Messiah will come a second time, and some believe that this Messiah will come in the guise of a woman. The followers of these sects are Wallachian peasants, but there are also some fugitives who have escaped into the Turkish lands, Cossacks and even Ruthenian peasants, runaways and people of the lowest station, the very poorest. Further, I learned that a sizable role is played there by the so-called Mother of God, whom they choose by election; it must always be a woman of impeccable beauty, and a virgin. They do not eat meat, do not drink wine or vodka (which surprises me, since I had information from Warsaw that this Moliwda hardly shies away from alcoholic drinks; this may be a proof that he has broken with the sect), and do not recognize the sacrament of marriage, believing children born of such unions to be cursed. They do believe, meanwhile, in spiritual love between human persons, and when this occurs, corporeal communion is considered holy. Even in a group setting.