# Krakatit/Chapter 29

CHAPTER XXIX
Prokop, working inclined over this box of powder, was disturbed and excited by this strong feminine scent; it was as if the Princess herself was in the laboratory and was bending over his shoulder.
In his youthful ignorance he had never realized that powder was nothing but starch; he had regarded it as inorganic colouring. Well, starch is a magnificent thing, let us say, for damping too powerful explosives, because in itself it is dull and unresponsive; even more so when it becomes an explosive itself. He had no idea how to begin with it, and buried his head in his hands, pursued by the penetrating scent of the Princess. He did not leave the laboratory even at night.
The people at the castle whom he liked best ceased to visit him, as he was always shut off from them by his work and treated them impatiently, absorbed all the time in the cursed powder. What the devil was he to try next? After five days he began to see the light; he feverishly studied aromatic nitroamines, after which he began the slowest synthetic work which he had ever done in his life. One night the powder lay in front of him, unchanged in appearance and exuding its penetrating scent; a brown Powder, reminiscent of a woman’s healthy complexion.
He stretched himself out on the divan, completely ​exhausted. It seemed to him that he saw a placard with the inscription “Powderite, the finest explosive powder for the complexion,” and on the placard was a picture of the Princess putting out her tongue at him. He tried to turn away, but two bare brown arms stretched out from the placard and, medusalike, drew him towards her. He pulled a clasp-knife out of his pocket and ripped it up. Then he had a fear that he had committed a murder, and dashed away along the street in which he had lived years before. He came upon a panting motor-car and leapt into it shouting, “Drive quickly.” The car started off, and only then for the first time did he notice that the Princess was sitting at the wheel with a leather helmet on her head in which he had not seen her before. At a turning in the road someone threw himself in front of the car, evidently to stop it; there was an unearthly ery, the wheels lurched over something soft, and Prokop woke up.
He realized that he was feverish, got up, and looked about the laboratory for some kind of drug. He found nothing except pure alcohol; he took a good pull at it, burnt his mouth and throat, and again lay down with his head spinning. He saw before him a few formule, some flowers, Annie, and a confused train journey; then everything became fused, and he fell into a deep sleep.
In the morning he obtained permission to make an experiment on the artillery ground, a fact which caused Carson extraordinary delight. Prokop refused the help of a single laboratory assistant, and saw to it himself that a passage was dug in the sandstone as far from the castle as possible, in the ​part of the ground where there were not even any electrical wires, so that a special fuse was necessary. When everything was prepared he informed the Princess that at four o’clock precisely he would explode her box of powder. He gave particular instructions to Carson to clear the sheds in the vicinity and unconditionally prohibited the presence of anybody within a circle of half a mile; he further demanded that on this occasion he should not be accompanied by Holz. Mr. Carson considered all this fuss to be somewhat excessive, but conceded all Prokop’s demands.
A quarter of an hour before the appointed time Prokop carried the box of powder to the seat of the explosion with his own hands, sniffed for the last time with a certain satisfaction at the Princess’s scent and put it in the hole. Then he placed beneath it a mercury capsule, connected with a Bickford cord timed for five minutes, took up his position a short distance away, and waited with his watch in his hand until it should be five minutes to four.
Aha, now he would show this proud girl what he could do. This would be an explosion really worthwhile, something different from the pop-guns on the White Mountain, when one had to keep one’s eye open for a policeman the whole time; it would be a magnificent detonation, a column of fire reaching up to Heaven, a marvellous force, a noise like thunder; the heavens would be cleaved by a fiery power and lightning made by the hand of man.
Five minutes to four. Prokop quickly lit the cord and made off for all he was worth with his watch in his hand, limping slightly. Three minutes; ​quicker! Two minutes, and then he saw to his right the Princess, accompanied by Carson, making her way to the site of the explosion. For a second he was rigid with terror, and then shouted to them a warning. Mr. Carson stopped, but the Princess went on without even looking round. Carson trotted after her, evidently trying to persuade her to turn back. Overcoming the sharp pain in his leg, Prokop dashed after her. “Lie down,” he roared, “for God’s sake lie down!” His face was so terribly distorted with anger and horror that Mr. Carson turned pale, made two leaps, and lay down at the bottom of a deep ditch. The Princess continued her way; she was now not more than two hundred yards from the hole. Prokop dashed his watch on the ground, seizing hold of her shoulder. “Lie down,” he yelled. The Princess swung round, giving him a terrible look for having taken such a liberty. Then Prokop took her in both his hands, threw her on to the ground, and fell on top of her with all his weight.
Her wiry lean body wriggled desperately beneath him. “Serpent,” hissed Prokop, and breathing heavily forced the Princess back with all the strength of his chest. The body underneath him arched itself and slipped to the side. Strangely enough not a word came through the closed lips of the Princess; she only breathed shortly and quickly, struggling feverishly. Prokop thrust his knees between her legs, so that she should not slip away, and placed his palms over her ears, realizing in a flash that the explosion might break her ear-drums. Her sharp nails dug into his neck, and in his face he felt the ​savage gnawing of four sharp eye-teeth. “Beast,” gasped Prokop, and attempted to shake off this aggressive animal; but she would not allow him. A hoarse noise came from her throat, and her body braced itself and undulated in wild convulsions. The familiar penetrating scent overpowered Prokop’s senses; his heart beat agitatedly, and he had a wild desire to jump up, ignoring the explosion which would take place now in a few seconds. Then he felt the struggling knees pressing themselves to his leg and two arms twined themselves convulsively round his neck; on his face he felt the hot, moist, trembling contact of her lips and tongue. He moaned with agony, and sought the Princess’s lips with his own. At this moment there was a frightful explosion, and a column of earth and stones was torn out of the earth. Something gave Prokop a violent blow on the crown of the head, but he hardly realized it, for at that instant he was kissing her mouth, tongue, teeth, her parted and trembling lips. Suddenly her elastic body collapsed beneath him, shuddering. He had an impression that Mr. Carson had stood up and was watching him, but hastily threw himself on the ground again. Trembling fingers caressed Prokop’s neck with wonderful and intolerable sweetness; parched lips kissed his face and eyes with tiny trembling kisses, while Prokop thirstily thrust his lips against the beating warmth of a fragrant neck. “Darling, darling,” came a hot whisper into his ears, delicate fingers were passed through his hair, and a soft body pressed its full length against him. Prokop pressed his lips on hers in an endless kiss.
Sss! Thrust away by her elbow, Prokop jumped ​up and rubbed his forehead as if he were drunk. The Princess sat up and arranged her hair. “Give me your hand,” she ordered coolly, hastily looked round, and then quickly pressed the hand which he had stretched out against her burning face. Suddenly she pushed it away, stood up, and, rigid, gazed with large eyes into the distance. Prokop felt quite embarrassed. He was about to approach her again, but she made a nervous movement with her shoulder, as if she were shaking something off. He saw that she was biting her lips deeply. Only then did he remember Carson, whom he found some distance away lying on his back—but not in the ditch—and gazing up happily at the blue sky. “Is it all over?” he said, without getting up, and twiddled his thumbs on his stomach. “I’m frightfully afraid of such things. Can I get up now?” He jumped up and shook himself like a dog. Magnificent explosion,” he said enthusiastically, and again looked, as it were casually, at the Princess.
The Princess turned round; she was as white as a sheet, but had herself completely under control. “Was that all” she asked carelessly.
“My God,” cried Carson, “as if that were not enough! One little box of powder! Man, you’re a magician, a devil, the king of hell or some one like that. What? Really. The king of matter. Princess, behold the king! A genius, eh? A unique person. Honestly, compared to him we’re ragpickers. What name have you given to the stuff?” The disconcerted Prokop regained his equilibrium. “Let the Princess christen it,” he said, glad to be able to rise to the occasion. “It’s . . . hers.”
​The Princess trembled. “You might call it ‘Vicit,’” she said sharply through her teeth.
“What?” cried Mr. Carson. “Aha! Vicit. That means ‘he conquered,’ eh? Princess, you’re a genius! Vicit! Magnificent. Aha! Hurrah!”
But through Prokop’s head there flashed another and a terrible etymology. Vitium. Vice. He looked with horror at the Princess, but it was impossible to read any answer on her strained face.