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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/37339-0.txt b/37339-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..75424f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/37339-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14054 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Midst the Wild Carpathians, by Mór Jókai + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Midst the Wild Carpathians + +Author: Mór Jókai + +Translator: R. Nisbet Bain + +Release Date: September 7, 2011 [EBook #37339] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + +[Illustration: cover of 'Midst the Wild Carpathians by Dr. Jókai Mór] + + + + +'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS + +("AZ ÉRDÉLY ARÁNY KÓRA") + +BY MAURUS JÓKAI + +TRANSLATED BY R. NISBET BAIN FROM THE FIRST HUNGARIAN EDITION + +Authorised Version + +LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, LD. +1894 +[All rights reserved] + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, +LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +Hungarians regard _Az Érdély arány kora_ as, on the whole, the best of +Jokai's great historical romances, and, to judge from the numerous +existing versions of it, foreigners are of the same opinion as +Hungarians. Few of Jokai's other tales have been translated so often, +and the book is as great a favourite in Poland as it is in Germany. And +certainly it fully deserves its great reputation, for it displays to the +best advantage the author's three characteristic qualities--his powers +of description, especially of nature, his dramatic intensity, and his +peculiar humour. + +The scene of the story is laid among the virgin forests and inaccessible +mountains of seventeenth-century Transylvania, where a proud and valiant +feudal nobility still maintained a precarious independence long after +the parent state of Hungary had become a Turkish province. We are +transported into a semi-heroic, semi-barbarous borderland between the +Past and the Present, where Mediævalism has found a last retreat, and +the civilizations of the East and West contend or coalesce. Bizarre, +gorgeous, and picturesque forms flit before us--rude feudal magnates and +refined Machiavellian intriguers; superb Turkish pashas and ferocious +Moorish bandits; noble, high-minded ladies and tigrish odalisks; +saturnine Hungarian heydukes, superstitious Wallachian peasants, savage +Szeklers, and scarcely human Tartars. The plot too is in keeping with +the vivid colouring and magnificent scenery of the story. The whole +history of Transylvania, indeed, reads like a chapter from the _Arabian +Nights_, but there are no more dramatic episodes in that history than +those on which this novel is based--the sudden elevation of a country +squire (Michael Apafi) to the throne of Transylvania against his will by +order of the Padishah, and the dark conspiracy whereby Denis Banfi, the +last of the great Transylvanian magnates, was so foully done to death. + +In none of Jokai's other novels, moreover, is the individuality of the +characters so distinct and consistent. The gluttonous Kemeny, who +sacrificed a kingdom for a dinner; the well-meaning, easy-going Apafi, +who would have made a model squire, but was irretrievably ruined by a +princely diadem; his consort, the wise and generous Anna, always at hand +to stop her husband from committing follies, or to save him from their +consequences; the crafty Teleki, the Richelieu of Transylvania, with +wide views and lofty aims, but sticking at nothing to compass his ends; +his rival Banfi, rough, masterful, recklessly selfish, yet a patriot at +heart, with a vein of true nobility running through his coarser nature; +his tender and sensitive wife, clinging desperately to a brutal husband, +who learnt her worth too late; the time-serving Csaky, as mean a rascal +as ever truckled to the great or trampled on the fallen; Ali Pasha and +Corsar Beg, excellent types of the official and the unofficial Turkish +freebooter respectively; Kucsuk Pasha, the chivalrous Mussulman with a +conscience above his creed; the renegade spy Zülfikar, groping in +slippery places after illicit gains, and always falling on his feet with +cat-like agility; and, last of all, that marvellous creation, Azrael, +the demoniacal Turkish odalisk, blasting all who fall within the +influence of her irresistible glamour, a Circe as sinuously beautiful +and as utterly soulless as her own pet panther--all these personages of +a, happily, by-gone age are depicted as vividly as if the author had +known each one of them personally. + +Finally, the book contains some of Jokai's happiest descriptions, and in +this department it is generally admitted that the master, at his best, +is unsurpassable. The description of the burning coal-mine in _Fekete +Gyemantok_, of the Neva floods in _A szabadság a hó alatt_, of the +plague in _Szomoru napok_, or of the Danube in all its varying moods in +_Az arány ember_, stand alone in modern fiction; yet can any of these +vivid tableaux compare with the wonderful account of Corsar Beg's aërial +fairy palace, poised on the top of the savage Carpathians, or with the +glowing picture of the gorgeous harem of Azrael, or with the fantastic +scenery of the Devil's Garden, with its ice-built corridors, snow +bridges, boiling streams, fathomless lakes, and rushing avalanches? + +R. N. B. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I. + + BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH. + + CHAP. PAGE + I. A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666 1 + II. THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA 18 + III. A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE 27 + IV. A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA 37 + V. BODOLA 45 + VI. THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZÖLLÖS 57 + VII. THE PRINCESS 70 + VIII. THE PERI 85 + IX. THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER 105 + + + BOOK II. + + THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. + + I. THE PATROL 125 + II. SANGE MOARTE 135 + III. AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 155 + IV. THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE 173 + V. THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL 189 + VI. THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVÁR 197 + VII. THE JUS LIGATUM 210 + VIII. DEATH FOR A KISS 218 + IX. CONSORT AND CONCUBINE 228 + X. THE SENTENCE 257 + + + + +'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS. + + + + +BOOK I. + +BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666. + + +Before us lies the valley of the Drave, one of those endless +wildernesses where even the wild beast loses its way. Forests +everywhere, maples and aspens a thousand years old, with their roots +under water; magnificent morasses the surface of which is covered, not +with reeds and water-lilies, but with gigantic trees, from the dependent +branches of which the vivifying waters force fresh roots. Here the swan +builds her nest; here too dwell the royal heron, the blind crow, the +golden plover, and other man-shunning animals which are rarely if ever +seen in more habitable regions. + +Here and there on little mounds, left bare during the long summer +drought by the receding waters, sprout strange and gorgeous flowers, +such perhaps as the earth has not brought forth since the Flood +overwhelmed her. In this slimy soil every blade of grass shoots up like +gigantic broom; the funnel-shaped convolvuluses and the evergreen +ground-ivy put forth tendrils as stout and as strong as vine branches, +which, stretching from tree to tree, twine round their stems and hang +flowery garlands about the dark, sombre maples, just as if some +hamadryad had crowned the grove dedicated to her. + +But it is only when evening descends that this realm of waters begins to +show signs of life. Whole swarms of water-fowl then mount into the air, +whose rueful, monotonous croaking is only broken by the melancholy +piping of the bittern and the whistle of the green turtle. The swan, +too, raises her voice and sings that melodious lay which now, they tell +us, is only to be heard in fairy-land,--for here man has never yet trod, +the place is still God's. + +Now and again, indeed, sportsmen of the bolder sort presume to penetrate +far into this pathless labyrinth of bush and brake; but they are forced +to wind their way among the trees in canoes which may at any moment be +upset by the twisted tangle of roots stretching far and wide beneath the +water, and it is just in these very places that the swamp is many +fathoms deep; for although the dark green lake-grass and the yellow +marsh-flowers, with the little black-and-red efts and newts darting +about among them, seem close enough to be reached by an outstretched +hand, they are nevertheless all under water deep enough to go over the +head of the tallest man. + +In other places it is the dense thicket which bars the canoe's way. +Fallen trees, the spoil of many centuries, but untouched by the hand of +man, lie rotting there in gigantic heaps. The submerged trunks have been +turned to stone by the water, and the roots of the lake-grass, the +filaments of the flax-plant, and the tendrils of the clematis have grown +together over them, forming a strong, tough barrier just above the water +which rocks and sways without giving way beneath one's feet. The knotty +clout-like film of the lake, stretching far and wide, seems, to the +careless eye, a continuation of this barrier, but the treacherous +surface no longer bears--one step further, and Death is there. This +unknown, unexplored region has however but few visitors. + +Southwards, the wilderness is bounded by the river Drave. The trees +which line its steep banks dip over into its waves. Not unfrequently the +fierce stream sweeps them into its bed and away, to the great peril of +all who sail or row upon its waters. + +Northwards, the forest extends as far as Csakatorny, and where the +morass ends oaks and beeches of all sorts flourish. In no other part of +Hungary will you meet with trees so erect and so lofty. The wide waste +abounds with all sorts of game. The wild boars, which wallow in the +swampy ground there, are the largest and fiercest of their kind. The red +deer too is no stranger there, and huge, powerful, and courageous you +will find him; nay, at that time, even gigantic elks showed themselves +occasionally, and made nocturnal incursions into the neighbouring +millet-fields of Totovecz; but at the first attempt to lay hands upon +them, they would throw themselves into the innermost swamps, whither it +was impossible to follow them.... + +On one of the brightest days of the year in which our story begins, a +numerous hunting-party was bustling about an old-fashioned hunting-box +which then stood on the borders of the forest. + +The first rays of the sun had scarcely pierced through the thick +foliage, when the grooms and kennel-keepers led out the hunters by their +bridles and the hounds in leashes, which sprang yelping up to the +shoulders of their keepers in joyful anticipation of the coming sport. +The huge store-wagons, each drawn by from six to ten oxen, have already +gone on before to fixed rallying-places, whither all the quarry is to be +carried. The villagers for miles round have been enlisted as beaters, +and stand together in picturesque groups armed with axes, pitch-forks, +and occasional muskets. A few smaller groups have been posted at regular +intervals along the wood, with canoes made from the trunks of trees. +Their duty is to scare the game back from the swamp, should it turn +thither for refuge. Every man, every beast shows signs of that +precipitancy, that ardour, that restlessness by which the true huntsman +is always distinguishable; only a few of the older hands find time to +sit by the fire and roast slices of bacon with perfect equanimity. + +At last comes the signal for departure, the blast of a horn from the +porch of the hunting-box; the retinue spring shouting upon their +snorting horses; the unruly, barking pack drag the kennel-men hither and +thither; the huntsmen wind up their heavy shooting muskets, and every +one stands in eager expectation of their lord and his noble guests. + +They have not long to wait. A cavalcade, with a few attendant pages, +descends the hill. Foremost rides a tall, muscular man--the lord of the +manor--the rest, as if involuntarily, linger some little way behind him. +His broad shoulders and superbly-arched chest indicate herculean +strength; his sun-burnt features are wonderfully well preserved, not a +wrinkle is to be seen on them; his short clipped beard and his shaggy +moustache, which is twisted sharply upwards, give his face a martial +expression, and his very pronounced aquiline nose and coal-black, bushy +eyebrows lend him a haughty, dictatorial air; while the dreamy cut of +his lips, his mild, oval, blue eyes and high, smooth forehead throw a +poetic shimmer over his peculiarly chivalrous countenance. A round, +unembroidered hat, surmounted by an eagle's plume, covers his +closely-cropped hair; his upper garment is a simple green, shaggy +jacket, which he wears open, thus allowing you a glance at his +under-garment, a white buckskin dolman,[1] trimmed with silver braid. By +his side hangs a broad scimitar in an ivory sheath, and the +mother-of-pearl handle of a crooked Turkish dagger peeps forth from a +scarlet girdle richly set with precious stones. + + [Footnote 1: _Dolman._ An Hungarian pelisse. A more + magnificent kind, worn only on state occasions, is + called the _attila_.] + +The pair which ride immediately behind him consists of a young cavalier +and a young Amazon. The cavalier can scarcely have counted more than +two-and-twenty summers, the lady seems even younger. A better-assorted +couple you could find nowhere. + +The youth has smiling, gentle, pallid features; rich chestnut-brown +locks fall over his shoulders; a slight moustache just shades his upper +lip; an eternal smile, nonchalance, not to say levity, are mirrored in +his bright blue eyes; but for his brawny arms and his stalwart frame, +the iron muscles of which protrude at the slightest movement through his +tight-fitting dolman, you might take him for a child. His head is +covered by a kalpag[2] of marten skin with a heron's plume in it; his +dress is of heavy twisted silk stuff; down from his shoulders hangs a +splendid tiger's skin, the claws meeting together round his neck in a +gorgeous sapphire agraffe. He rides a pitch-black Turkish stallion, +whose shabrack, richly embroidered with golden butterflies, is plainly +the work of a gentle lady's hand. + + [Footnote 2: _Kalpag_ or _Calpak_. A tall, skin cap of + Tartar origin, part of the Hungarian national costume.] + +The Amazon, over whom the youth bends from time to time (doubtless to +whisper some sweet compliment in her ear), is his very antithesis, and +perhaps for that very reason tallies so well with him. + +Hers is an earnest, dauntless, energetic countenance; her eyes are +brighter than garnets; she loves to pout a little and arch her bushy but +delicate eyebrows, which lend a proud expression to her features, and +when she raises her flashing eyes and her coral-red lips expand into a +peculiar enthusiastic smile, a heroine stands before you whose head, +heart, and arm are as strong as any man's. Her jasper-black, braided +locks, which fall half-way down her shoulders, are surmounted by an +ermine kalpag, from the top of which waves a gorgeous plume of +bird-of-paradise feathers. A light, lilac robe, meet for an Amazon, +clings tightly to her slim waist, and sweeps down in ample, majestic +folds over the flanks of her rose-white Arab. This robe is unbuttoned in +front, so as to leave free her heaving bosom, which is covered right up +to the neck with lace frills. Her short sleeves, richly trimmed with +batiste, are fastened by intertwining gold cords. Over her left foot, +which rests upon the stirrup, the long robe is thrown carelessly back, +presenting us with a glimpse of her white satin, padded petticoat, and +one of her little feet in its red morocco shoe. Her snow-white arms are +half protected by silk embroidered buckskin gloves, which do not quite +conceal the velvety skin, and the play of the well-developed muscles. +Both form and face rather demand our homage than our love. A smile +rarely rests on those features; the glance of her large, dark, sea-deep +eyes rests from time to time upon the youth who is bending over her, and +then there beams from them such witchery, such tenderness--yet all the +while her face is without a smile. A loftier, nobler longing is then +visible on her face, a longing deeper than love, higher than the desire +of fame--perhaps it is that self-consciousness of great souls who +foresee that their names will be an eternal remembrance. + +Behind the loving pair, ride side by side two cavaliers who, to judge +from their dress, belong to the higher nobility. One of them is a man of +about thirty, with a long, glistening black beard; he sits upon a +full-blood Barbary charger, with a white star upon its forehead; the +other is a sallow man advanced in years, whose long, light moustache is +already touched with grey; an astrachan cap covers his high, bald, +wrinkled forehead; his beard is carefully clipped, and his dress almost +ostentatiously simple. No lace adorns his jacket, no fringe of any sort +sets off the caparison of his good steed; his neckerchief, which peeps +out of his dolman, might almost be considered shabby. + +This man does not appear to stand very high in the estimation of his +companion, and marks of annoyance at the neglect he suffers are plainly +visible on his shrewd, not to say crafty, features. The reader would do +well to study this man's face, for we shall often meet with him. Cold, +withered features, thin fair hair and beard speckled with grey; a +pointed, double chin; disdainful, contracted lips; keen and lively, +red-rimmed, sea-green eyes; projecting eyebrows; a lofty, bald, shining +forehead which, beneath the play of his emotions, becomes furrowed with +wrinkles in all directions. This face we must not forget; the +others--the herculean horseman, the laughing youth, the stately +Amazon--will only flit across our path and disappear; but he will +accompany us all through our story, pulling down and building up +wherever he appears, and holding in his hands the destinies of great men +and great nations. + +The bald-pate drew nearer to the cavalier trotting by his side, who was +balancing his spear in one hand as if to test it, and said to him in a +low tone, as if continuing a conversation already begun-- + +"So you will not interfere in the matter?" + +"Pray don't trouble me with politics now," replied the other, with a +gesture of angry impatience. "You cannot live a day without planning or +plotting; but pray spare me for to-day! I want to hunt now, and you know +how passionately I love the chase." + +With these words he gave his horse the spur, galloped forward, and +caught up the herculean horseman. + +The other bit his lips angrily at this roughish flout, but immediately +turned with a smile towards the youthful cavalier ambling in front of +him. + +"A splendid morning, my lord! Would that our horizon were only as serene +in every direction!" + +"It is indeed," returned the youth, without exactly knowing what he was +saying, whilst his heroine bent over him with a darkening face, and +whispered-- + +"I don't know how it is, but I am always suspicious of that man. He is +continually asking questions, but never answers any himself." + +At this moment the stately cavalier reached the hunting-party, returned +their boisterous greetings, and halted close to them. + +"David!" cried he to an old grey-bearded huntsman, who at once stepped +forth, cap in hand. + +"Put on your cap! Have the beaters taken their places?" + +"Every one is in his place, my lord! I have also sent canoes into the +swamp to scare back the game." + +"Bravo, David! you know your business. And now set off with the dogs and +the huntsmen, and strike into the path which we usually take. Our little +company will be sufficient for my purpose. We mean to cut our way +straight through the forest." + +A murmur of surprise and incredulity began to spread among the huntsmen. + +"Your pardon, gracious sir!" returned the old huntsman, who now took off +his cap a second time, "but I know that way, and it is no good way for a +god-fearing man. The impenetrable thicket, the bottomless waters, the +sticky slime present a thousand dangers, and then there is the wide +Devil's-dyke which goes right across the forest: no horse or horseman +has ever leaped that dyke." + +"We at any rate, my worthy old fellow, will go for it; we have done +worse bits than that ere now. He who follows me will not come to grief; +don't you know that I am Fortune's favourite?" + +The old huntsman donned his plumed cap, and set out on his way with the +others. + +But now the bald-pate rode up to the hero's side. + +"My lord!" remarked he calmly, but not without a touch of sarcasm, "I +hold it a great blunder for a man to jeopardize his life for nothing, +especially when he may turn it to good account. I know indeed that say +and do are one with your lordship; but pray be so good as to cast a +glance around, and you will perceive that we are not all men here; one +of that sex is among us whom it were cruelty to expose to certain peril +for the mere love of adventure." + +During this speech, the hero gazed fixedly, not at the speaker but at +the Amazon, and the fiery pride on his cheeks flamed up still higher +when he saw how contemptuously the stately girl measured her unsolicited +advocate from head to foot, and with what haughty self-confidence she +chose a dart, adorned with ostrich feathers, from a bundle carried by a +page, and then like a defiant matador planted the shaft firmly upon her +saddle-bow. + +"Look at her, now!" cried the hero. "Is that the girl you are so fearful +about? I tell you, sir, she is my niece!" + +The hero's exalted words rang far and wide through the forest like a +peal of bells. There was, at that time, no voice in Hungary like his; so +thunderous, so deep, and yet so melodious and penetrating. + +The Amazon permitted the cavalier who had called her his niece to +embrace her slim waist; she even allowed him to kiss her rosy red +cheeks: in those days an Hungarian girl used to blush even when the kiss +came from a kinsman's lips. + +"Not in vain does my blood flow in her veins! Ha, ha! For valour I'll +match her with the best of men. Have no fear for her! The time is coming +when she will face greater perils than any of to-day, and still hold her +own."[3] + + [Footnote 3: The Amazon was Helen Zrinyi. She married + first the young cavalier with whom we now meet her, + Francis Rakoczy, and subsequently the famous Emerich + Tököly, whose acquaintance we shall make presently. Her + spirited defence of the fortress of Mohacz, 1689, + against the Emperor is well known.] + +After these prophetic words, the rider pressed his spurs into his +horse's sides; the wounded beast plunged and reared, but the pressure of +a knee as hard as steel quickly brought it to reason. + +"Follow me!" cried he, and the picturesque little group dashed after him +into the depths of the forest. + +Let us anticipate them. Let us go whither the stag rests at noonday in +the shady groves, whither the heron bathes and the turtle basks in the +sun. + +What habitations are these which rise up before us, built upon piles, in +groups of five and six, between the waters and the wilderness, little +huts carved out of the stumps of trees with round, clay-plastered, +red-thatched roofs? Who has built that dam there, so that the water may +never fall too far below the thresholds of those tiny houses? Here dwell +the diligent beavers whom Nature herself has taught the art of building. +This is their colony. 'Tis they who have gnawed through the thick trees +with their teeth; they who have brought those logs hither; they who have +thrown up a bank to make a dam, and watch over its safety all the year +round. Look there! One of them has just glided out of the lowest storey +of his dwelling, which is under the water. With what mild and gentle +eyes he looks around him! He has never yet seen man! + +Let us go on further. In the shadow of an old hollow tree rests a family +of stags. A buck and a doe with her two little fawns. + +The buck has come forward into the sunlight; his stately form seems to +give him pleasure; he licks his smooth, shiny coat again and again; +softly scratches his back with his branching antlers, and struts about +with a proud, self-confident air, daintily raising his slender legs from +time to time: the undulating movements of his slim and supple form show +off to the best advantage the play of his elastic muscles. + +The doe lies lazily in the rank grass. From time to time she raises her +beautiful head, and looks with her large black eyes so feelingly, so +lovingly at her companion or at her sportive little ones, and if she +perceives they have strayed too far, she utters an uneasy, plaintive +sort of whine, whereupon the little creatures come bounding back to her +helter-skelter, frisking and gambolling about their dam; they cannot +keep still for a moment, all their limbs quiver and shake, and all their +movements are so graceful, so lively, and so lovely. + +Suddenly the buck stands motionless and utters a low cry. He scents +danger and raises his nose on high; his distended nostrils sniff the air +in every direction; he scratches up the ground uneasily with his feet; +runs round and round in a narrow circle with lowered head, and shakes +his antlers threateningly. Once more he stands perfectly still. His +protruding eyes betoken the terror which instinctively seizes him. All +at once he rushes towards his companion; with an indescribable sort of +gentle whine they rub noses together; they too have their language in +which they can understand each other. The two fawns instantly fly in +terror to their mother's side; their tender little limbs are trembling +all over. Then the buck disappears into the forest, but so warily that +the sound of his footsteps is scarcely audible. The doe however remains +in her place, licking her terrified young (which return these maternal +caresses with their little red tongues), and hastily raising her head +and pricking up her ears at the slightest sound. + +Suddenly she springs up. She has heard something which no human ear +could have distinguished. In the far, far distance the forest rings with +a peculiar sound. That sound is familiar to huntsmen. The hounds are now +on the track. The beating-up has begun. The doe throws uneasy glances +around her, but ends by quickly lying down in her place again. She knows +that her companion will return, and that she must wait for him. + +The chase draws nearer and nearer. Presently the buck comes noiselessly +back, and turns with a peculiar kind of squeak towards his mate, who +immediately springs up and scuds away with her young ones obliquely +across the line of the beaters. The buck remains behind a little while +longer, and tears up the ground with his antlers, either from fury, or +on purpose to efface all traces of his mate's lair. Then he stretches +out his neck and begins to yelp loudly, imitating the barking of the +hounds, so as to put them on a wrong track, a stratagem which, as old +hunters will tell you, is often practised by the more cunning sort of +stags. Then, throwing back his antlers, he disappears in the direction +taken by his mate. + +Nearer and nearer come the beaters. The crackling of the down-trodden +brushwood and the shouts of the armed men mingle with the barking of the +dogs. The forest suddenly teems with life. Startled by the cries of the +pursuers, scores and scores of hares and foxes dart away among the trees +in every direction. Sometimes a panting fox makes for an open hole, but +bounds back terrified before the fiery eyes of the badger which inhabits +it. Here and there a grey-streaked wolf skulks along among the +scampering hares, standing still, from time to time, with his tail +between his legs, to look round for some place of refuge, and then, as +the pursuing voices come nearer, running off again with a dismal howl. + +And yet no one pursues these animals; the huntsmen are after a greater, +a nobler prey, a stag with mighty antlers. The beaters draw nearer and +nearer; the dogs are already on the track; the blast of a horn indicates +that they are hard upon the stag. + +"Hurrah, hurrah!" resounds from afar. The beaters, advancing from +different directions, halt and fall into their places, completely +barring the way. The din of the hunt approaches rapidly. + +Shortly afterwards, a peculiar rustling noise is heard. The hunted +stags, with their young ones, break through the thicket and disappear. A +broad chasm lies between them and the beaters. Quick as lightning, both +the noble beasts bound over the fallen tree-stumps which lie in the way, +and reach the chasm. The pursuit is both before and behind, but the +danger is greatest from behind, for there the herculean hero, the bold +Amazon, and the ardent Transylvanian huntsman head the chase. The buck +leaps across the broad chasm without the slightest effort, raising both +feet at the same time and throwing back his head; the doe also prepares +for the leap, but her young ones shrink back in terror from the dizzy +abyss. At this the poor doe collapses altogether; her knees give way +beneath her, and bowing her head she remains beside her young. A dart, +hurled by the Transylvanian huntsman, pierces the animal's side. The +wounded beast utters a piteous cry, resembling the moan of a human +being, but much more horrible. Even her slayer, moved by sudden +compassion, forbears to touch her till she has ceased to suffer. + +The two kids remain standing mournfully beside their dead dam, and allow +themselves to be taken alive. + +Meanwhile, the flying buck, shaking his heavy antlers with frenzied +rage, rushes with bloodshot eyes upon the beaters who bar his way. The +beaters, well knowing what this generally mild and timid beast is +capable of in his valiant despair, throw themselves with one accord to +the ground so as to allow him a free passage. A few of the dogs, indeed, +go at him; but the now furious animal gores them with his antlers, hurls +them bleeding to the ground, and then dashes off towards the swamps. + +"After him!" roars the hero, in a voice of thunder, and he urges his +horse towards the chasm over which the stag has just flown. + +"Help, Jesu!" cry the terrified beaters on the opposite side; but the +next moment their terror is changed to boisterous joy; the horse with +his bold rider has come safely across. + +Of the whole of his suite only two dared to imitate him, the stately +Amazon and the gentle stripling. Both horses flew over the abyss at the +same moment; the lady's long velvet robe flapped the air like a banner +during the leap, and she threw a proud look behind her as if to inquire +whether any man was bold enough to follow her. + +Their suite thought it just as well not to risk their necks over such a +piece of foolhardiness. Only the young Transylvanian made a dash at the +chasm, although, as his horse had already injured one of its hind legs +in the forest, he might have been quite sure that it was unequal to such +an effort. Fortunately for him, just before the leap his saddle-girth +burst and he was pitched across the chasm, just managing to scramble up +the bank on the other side. His good steed, less fortunate, was only +able to reach the opposite margin with its front feet; and after a wild +and hopeless struggle, fell crashing back into the abyss below. + +The three riders alone pursued the flying stag, which, now that he had +got clear away, drew his pursuers after him into the marsh-lands. The +hero was close upon his heels; the Amazon and her cavalier trotted a +little on one side, for the forest was very dense here, and prevented +them from going forward abreast. At last the stag forced his way into +the thick reed-grown fens and took to the water, with the hero still in +hot pursuit. The youthful riders were also on the point of plunging +among the reeds, when two hideous, black monsters, fiercely snorting, +suddenly confronted them. They had fallen foul of a brood of wild swine. +The loathsome beasts had been lying, deaf to everything around them, in +their bed of trampled reeds and slush, and only became aware of the +presence of strangers when the youth's horse, in bounding over them, +trampled to death a couple of the numerous litter that lay crouching by +the side of the sow. The rest of the speckled little pigs scattered +squeaking among the reeds, while the two old ones, savagely grunting, +advanced to the attack. The sow fell at once upon the slayer of her +little ones; but the boar remained, for a moment, on his haunches; his +bristles stood erect; he pricked up his ears, gnashed his tusks +together, then, wildly rolling his little bloodshot eyes, rushed at the +Amazon with a dull roar. + +The youth flung his javelin at the sow from afar with a steady hand. The +dart whirred through the air and then stuck fast, upright and quivering, +in the horny skull of the impetuous beast, the point piercing to the +very brain. The sow, not unlike a huge unicorn, ran forward a little +distance; but its eyes had lost their sight, and it staggered past the +rider only to fall down dead without a sound, a little distance off. + +The lady calmly awaited the furious boar. She held her dart with a +reversed grasp, point downwards, and drew tight her horse's reins. The +noble steed stood perfectly motionless, but he pointed his ears, threw a +sidelong glance at the boar, and at the very instant when the rabid +beast had passed beneath the horse's belly, and was about to rip it +asunder with a powerful upward heave of his gleaming tusks, the +well-trained charger suddenly reared and sprang over his assailant; at +the same instant the Amazon deftly stooped and hurled her dart deep +between the shoulder-blades of the wild boar. + +The mortally-wounded beast sank bellowing down into the long grass. Once +more he would have rushed upon the girl, but the youth sprang, quick as +light, from his horse, and gave him the _coup de grâce_ with his dagger. + +At that moment the blast of a horn was heard in the distance. The hero +had brought down the stag. The other horsemen, who now overtook the +leaders of the chase (but only after making a wide circuit), welcomed +the hero of the day with loud cries of "Eljen!"[4] + + [Footnote 4: _Eljen!_ = Long live!] + +The herculean horseman was mud-stained from head to foot, nor did the +others look much better; only the Amazon's robe was spotless and untorn. +Even at such times a girl knows how to take care of her clothes! + +When the hero beheld the wild beast slain by his niece, which, as it lay +stretched out stark and stiff before him, looked even larger than +life-size, he was at first deeply affected, as if he now, for the first +time, fully recognized the greatness of the peril to which his darling +had been exposed, and he exclaimed, not without alarm--"My Nelly!" but +immediately afterwards he stretched out his hand towards her with a +smile, and gazed round triumphantly upon the bystanders. + +"Did I not say she had my blood in her veins?" + +Every one hastened to pay an appropriate compliment to the radiant +heroine, who appeared to experience, on this occasion, something of that +peculiar satisfaction which only belongs to the lucky huntsman. + +The hero again looked proudly around till his eye fell upon the young +Transylvanian, who was now sitting on a fresh horse. Him he at once +accosted, and pointing to the dead boar asked-- + +"Nicolas, my son! prithee tell me, does Transylvania produce such boars +as that?" + +Now, not to mention that the Transylvanian was already somewhat sore on +account of his recent mishap, it was not to be expected that he, a +Transylvanian born and bred, would for a single moment permit the +assumption that any natural product of Hungary was superior to the like +product of Transylvania to pass unchallenged, so he answered defiantly-- + +"Most certainly, and even finer ones." + +Nothing at that moment could have more mightily offended the questioner +than this curt answer. What! to tell an enthusiastic huntsman that he +will find elsewhere game even finer than what he has just been lauding +to the skies; game, too, which the darling of his heart has just slain! +It was simply outrageous. + +"Very well, my son, very well," growled the hero; "we shall see, we +shall see!" + +With obvious marks of annoyance on his face, he turned away from his +contradictor, and ordered that the quarry should be conveyed at once to +the hunting-box. Not another word did he exchange with any one but his +Nelly; but her he literally overwhelmed with compliments and caresses. + + * * * * * + +It was already late in the afternoon when the hunters sat them down to a +simple but tasty repast spread upon a huge and level grass-plot in the +midst of the wood. Wine and merry jests soon set everything right again; +they talked of everything at the same time, of war and the chase, of +beautiful dames, of poetry (a fashionable subject then amongst the +higher classes), and of the intrigues of courts; but even after all this +blithe discourse the hero could not quite forget his grievance, and +again he inquired impatiently-- + +"So there really is excellent sport in Transylvania?" + +The young Transylvanian began to feel this perpetual harping on the same +string a little tiresome. He had never meant to be taken so literally. +The bald-pate, remarking the growing tension, sought to change the +conversation, and raising his beaker proposed the following toast-- + +"God keep the Turks in a good humour." + +But the hero angrily overturned his glass. + +"God grant no such thing!" cried he savagely. "I'm not going to pray for +the goggle-eyed dogs now, after fighting against them all my days. The +man who is always trying to change masters is a fool." + +"Yet the Turk is a very gracious master to us," put in the young +Transylvanian, with an ambiguous smile. + +"Ha, ha! didn't I say so? With you, even Turks are bigger and finer than +they are with us. Of course! of course! In Transylvania everything +flourishes better than in Hungary: the boars are bigger, the Turks are +daintier, than they are in this part of the country." + +At this moment David, the old huntsman, approached the hero and +whispered something in his ear. The hero's features brightened as if by +magic, and springing from his seat he cried--"Give me my gun!" then, +holding his long, silver-mounted musket in his hand, he turned towards +his guests with a radiant countenance. "All of you stay here. There is a +colossal boar close at hand. You shall see him, my son," added he, +tapping Nicolas on the shoulder. "Twice already have I vainly pursued +the fellow; this time I mean to catch him. He is, I assure you, a +descendant in the flesh of the Calydonian boar"--and with that, carried +away by his enthusiasm, he hastened towards that part of the wood which +the old huntsman had pointed out to him. David he presently ordered +back: nobody was to accompany him. + +"I know not how it is," whispered Helen to the youth at her side, "but I +have a foreboding that my uncle is in danger. How I wish you were by his +side!" + +The youth said nothing in reply, but he instantly stood up and seized +his gun. + +"Pray don't go after him," remarked the Transylvanian, when he saw the +young man about to hasten off. "You will only enrage him. He wants to do +the whole business himself, and a man who has exterminated hordes of +Tartars can easily dispose of a single brute beast." + +And so they kept the youth back from going. The men went on drinking, +and the lady remained in a brown study, glancing uneasily, from time to +time, at the skirts of the wood. + +Suddenly a shot resounded through the forest. + +Every one put down his glass and glanced at his neighbour with a beating +heart. + +A few moments passed and then they heard the roar of a wild beast; but +it was not the well-known roar of a mortally-wounded boar--no, it was a +peculiar, gurgling, half-stifled sound that told of a fierce struggle. + +"What is that?" was the question which rose to every one's lips. "Surely +he would call out if he were in danger!" Then came a second shot. Every +one instantly sprang to his feet. "What was that?" they cried. "Oh! let +us go! let us go!" exclaimed the girl, trembling in every limb, and the +whole company hastened in the direction of the shot. + + * * * * * + +Our hero had scarcely advanced four or five hundred paces into the +thicket when, at the foot of a mighty oak, he came upon the wild beast +he sought. It was a gigantic boar, with span-long, glistening black +bristles on its back and forehead; the tough hide lay, like plated +armour, in thick folds about its huge neck; its feet were long and +sinewy. Lazily grunting, it was making for itself a bed beneath the +bushes in which its shapeless body was stretched out at full length, and +it had found a place for its enormous head by rooting out with its tusks +bushes as thick as a man's arm. + +On hearing approaching footsteps, the monster irritably raised its head, +opened wide its jaws, and cast a sidelong glance at its assailant. + +Our hero knelt upon one knee so as to take better aim, and fired at the +wild beast just as it suddenly raised its head, so that the bullet +pierced its neck instead of its skull, wounding it seriously but not +mortally. + +The wounded boar instantly sprang from its lair, and gnashing its +crooked tusks together so that sparks flew from them, rushed upon its +foe. It would not have been difficult to have avoided such a furious +attack by a skilful side-spring; but our hero was not the man to get out +of any opponent's way; so he threw his gun aside, tore his dagger from +its sheath, faced the savage beast, and dealt at its head a blow +sufficient to have cleaved it to the chine; but the tremendous blow fell +short upon one of the monster's tusks, and the dagger, coming into +contact with the stone-like bone, broke off short at the hilt. + +Half stunned by the shock, the boar only succeeded in grazing the hero's +leg, whereupon the latter seized the beast by both ears and a desperate +struggle began. Weaponless as he was, he grappled with the monster, +which, grunting and roaring, twisted its head about in every direction; +but the hero's iron grasp held fast the broad ears of the monster with +invincible force, and when the boar tried to overturn its assailant by +suddenly going down on its haunches, the hero, with a swift and +tremendous blow of his clenched fist, hurled it backwards, falling +himself indeed at the same time, but uppermost, and quickly recovering +his balance pressed down with his whole weight upon the boar (which +valiantly but vainly continued struggling against superior strength), +and triumphantly bestrided its huge paunch. + +The boar now appeared to be completely beaten; its glassily glaring eyes +were protruding, the blood streamed from its jaws and nostrils; it had +ceased to bellow, but a rattling sound came from its throat; its legs +writhed convulsively, its snout hung flabbily down; it was plain that it +could not hold out much longer. + +The hero had now only to call to his companions, who were close at hand, +but that would have been too humiliating; or to wait till the boar bled +to death, but that would have been too tiresome. Suddenly he recollected +that he had a Turkish knife in his girdle, and, meaning to put a speedy +end to the long tussle, he pressed down the boar's head with his knee +and felt for his knife with one hand. + +At that moment the report of a gun[5] resounded somewhere in the wood. +The down-trodden boar suddenly seemed to feel that the pressure of his +opponent's hands and knees was slackening, and rallying all his +remaining strength, threw off his assailant and dealt him one last blow +with his tusks, and that blow was fatal, for it ripped open the man's +throat. + + [Footnote 5: Some pretend that this shot was fired by a + secret assassin sent from Vienna. Many doubt whether a + shot was fired at all.] + + * * * * * + +His kinsmen and friends, hastening to the spot, found the hero in the +throes of death by the side of the dead boar. They rushed up with loud +lamentations, and bound up his throat with their kerchiefs. + +"It is nothing, my children; it is nothing!" he gasped, and expired. + +"Alas! poor warrior!" sighed those who stood around him. + +"Alas! my country!" sobbed Helen, raising her tearful eyes to heaven. + +The gala-day had become a day of mourning; the hunt a funeral. + +The guests sorrowfully followed the body of their best friend to +Csakatorny. Only the bald-head took the opposite direction. + +"Didn't I say that life was meant for other and better things?" murmured +he. "Well, well! the world is large, and men are many. I'll go a kingdom +further on." + + * * * * * + +Thus died Nicolas Zrinyi[6] the younger, his country's greatest poet and +bravest son. + + [Footnote 6: It is not without reason that Jókai + alludes to Zrinyi as "the hero." He was one of the + greatest warriors of his day (1618-1666), and his + victories over the Turks were many and brilliant. As a + poet he stands high, even judged by a modern standard. + His chief works are his great epic, _Szigeti + veszedelem_, and his religious poems, _Keresztre_, "On + the Cross!"] + +Thus died the man whom Fortune always respected, the darling, the +bulwark, the ornament of his fatherland. + +In vain will you now seek for his hunting-box or his castle. All has +perished--the name, the family, nay, the very remembrance of the hero. + +The general and the statesman are forgotten; only one part of him still +survives, only one part of him will live eternally--the poet. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA. + + +And now we too will go "a kingdom further on." + +Let us go one kingdom forward and four years backward. We are in +Transylvania; the year is 1662. + +A simple country-house stands before us, at the lower end of Ebesfalva, +being almost the last house in the place. Evidently the architect of +this edifice had rather an eye to usefulness than beauty, for each part +of it has a style of its own, and differs from every other part in +shape, size, and quality. On both sides stand stables, cow-houses, +wagon-sheds, fowl-houses, and high-gabled, straw-thatched sheepfolds. In +the rear lies an orchard, from which the pointed roof of a beehive peeps +forth, and in the middle of the courtyard stands the whitewashed +dwelling-house, surrounded by shady nut trees, beneath which stands a +round table improvised from a millstone. A stone wall separates the +courtyard from a thrashing-floor, in which we see incipient haycocks +piled up into hillocks, and enormous stacks of corn, on the topmost +point of the tallest of which an adventurous peacock shrieks exultantly. +It is evening; the herds are returning home; the oxen are being unyoked +from the huge, maize-laden wagons; the herds, jingling their bells, come +back from the pastures; the swine jostle one another in the narrow +gateway and rush grunting to their troughs; the cocks and hens are +squabbling in the large nut tree, where they have taken up their +quarters for the night; far away sounds the vesper bell, and further +still the song of the village beauty, on her way to the spring; the +hands see to their cattle: one carries a freshly-mown bundle of +millet-grass across the farmyard, another bends beneath the weight of a +huge pitcher, filled to overflowing with yellowish, fragrant, foaming +milk, fresh from the udder. Through the kitchen window is to be seen the +merry sparkle of a roaring fire, over which a girl with round, red +cheeks holds a large pan; the fragrant odour of the savoury mess spreads +far and wide. And now the meal is served on large, green platters; the +family take their places round the millstone table, and eat with a good +appetite, the white watch-dogs looking up respectfully all the while at +the hasty gobblers. Then the dishes are cleared away, and the maize is +shot out of the wagons beneath the projecting eaves. The peasant girls +come trooping in from the neighbouring villages to help to husk the +pods, and sit them down upon the odorous heaps. Some merry wag or other +scoops out a ripe pumpkin, carves eyes and a mouth in it, sticks a +burning light inside, and hangs it up by way of a lantern, and the girls +shriek and pretend to be terribly frightened. Then the more handy lads, +sitting on over-turned bread-baskets, plait long wreaths out of the +maize-husks; and while the tranquil toil proceeds, merry songs are sung +and fairy tales are told of golden-haired princesses and persecuted +orphans. Now and again the fun requires a kiss or two to keep it going, +and loud screams proclaim the daring deed to all the world. The little +children cry out for joy if they chance to find an occasional scarlet or +mottled maize knob among so many yellow ones. And there they sit and +tell tales, and sing and laugh at the merest nothings till all the maize +is husked, and then they wish one another good-night, and, chatting and +bawling, linger over a long, last good-bye; and then they go singing +aloud along their homeward way, partly from fun and partly from pure +light-heartedness. + +Then every one enters his house, shuts the door behind him, and puts out +the fire; the sheep-dogs hold long dialogues in the village streets; the +crescent moon rises; the night watchman begins to cry the hours in +long-drawn rhythm; the others sleep and do not hear his golden saws. +Only in one window of the manor-house a light is shining. There some one +still is up. + +The watchers are a grey-haired, venerable dame and a much younger +serving-maid. The old lady is reading from a worn-out psalter, every +line of which she already knows by heart; the serving-maid, as if not +content with a long day's work, has sat herself down to her distaff, and +draws long threads out of the silky flax which she heckled yesterday and +carded to-day. + +"Go to bed, Clara," said the old woman kindly, "it is enough if I remain +up. Besides, you have to rise early to-morrow morning." + +"I could not sleep till our mistress has returned," replied the girl, +continuing her work. "Even when all the men are in, I always feel so +frightened till she has come home, but when once she is here, I feel as +safe as if we were behind the walls of a fortress." + +"Quite right, my child; she is, indeed, worth many men. Shame upon it +that the cares and anxieties which it behoves a man to bear should rest +upon her shoulders! She has to look after the whole of this vast +household, and, as if that were not enough, she must needs farm the +estates of her sisters, the ladies Banfi and Teleki. How many lawsuits +must she not carry on with this neighbour and with that! But they've met +their match in her, I'll warrant. She appears in person before the +judges and pleads so shrewdly, that our best advocates might take +lessons from her. And then, too, when my Lord Banfi came capering hither +with his killing ways, some little time ago, fancying that our gracious +lady was one of your straw-widows, how she sent him away with a flea in +his ear! The worthy gentleman did not know whether he stood on his head +or his heels, and yet he is one of the chief men in the land! And +afterwards, too, when, out of revenge, he saddled us with that +freebooter of a captain and his lanzknechts, don't you recollect how our +lady had them all flogged out of the village, and how the rascals took +to their heels when they saw our gracious mistress herself march out +against them, blunderbuss in hand?" + +"Would that they had not scampered off quite so quickly," interrupted +the girl, with a burst of enthusiasm. "I'd have laid the poker about +their ears, I warrant you." + +"Hark'e, Clara! when a woman has been forced to keep house alone for so +long a time, and to defend herself and family by the might of her own +arms, she comes at last to feel herself a man all over. That is why our +mistress looks as stern as if she had never been a girl." + +"But tell me, Aunt Magdalene," returned the girl, drawing her chair +nearer, "shall we never see master again?" + +"Alas! God only knows," replied the old dame, sighing. "How can I tell +when the poor fellow will be released from his captivity? I always had a +presentiment that it would come to this, and I said so, but no one +heeded me. It happened in this wise. In the days when our Prince +George[7] of blessed memory, not content with his own land, must needs +set out to conquer Poland at the head of the Hungarian chivalry, our +good master, Sir Michael, went with him. Oh, how I tried--and our lady +too--to keep him back. They were a newly-wedded couple then, and the +good gentleman himself had little heart for war--he always preferred to +sit at home among his books, his water-mills, and his fruit trees--but +honour called him and he went. I begged him to at least take my son Andy +with him. God gave me that thought, for otherwise we should never have +heard again of our gracious master, for when his Highness, our Sovereign +Prince George, beheld the bestial hordes of Tartars marching out against +him, he himself galloped off home, leaving his nobility captives in the +hands of the heathen, who dragged them off in fetters to Tartary. My son +Andy, who was of no use to them, for he was badly wounded in the thigh, +and therefore could not work, they sent home; he brought the tidings +that Sir Michael was sickening in sad confinement, and the Tartars, +perceiving how high he stood in the esteem of his fellow-prisoners, took +him for their prince, and set upon his head such a frightfully high +ransom, that all his property turned into gold could not have paid it +off. Nevertheless our noble lady rejoiced exceedingly when she heard +that her husband was still alive, and ran hither and thither and left no +stone unturned to raise the money. But neither her kind friends nor her +dear relations would lend her anything--no, not on the best security, +for no one willingly lends on land in time of war. So she sold her +treasures, her bridal dower which her mother had given her; all the +beautiful silver plate, jewelled bracelets, and embossed gold and pearl +ornaments which her ancestors had handed down to her; her large +satin-trimmed, fur-embroidered mantle and her filagreed _mente_[8]; her +rings, agraffes, and hairpins; her carbuncle bracelets and orient +pearls; her diamond ear-rings--in short, everything which could be +turned into money. Yet even all that came to not one-half of what the +Tartar demanded, so what does she do but farm the estates of her +sisters, plough up the fallow-lands, and cut down the forests to make +way for corn-fields. To find time for more work, she turned night into +day. No sort of husbandry whereby money could be made escaped her +attention. At one time she laid down clay-pits and dug out quarries, the +products of which found customers in the neighbourhood. At another time +she bred prize oxen and sold them to the Armenian herdsmen. She visited +all the markets in person; carried her wine as far as Poland, her corn +to Hermannstadt, her honey, wax, and preserved fruits to Kronstadt--nay, +in order to obtain a fair price for her wools, she crossed the border +and took them as far as Debreczin. And how frugally she fared all the +time! It is true she never stinted her servants in anything, but she +seemed to weigh every morsel that went into her own mouth. At harvest +time she would have nothing cooked for herself at home for weeks +together, so that she might remain in the fields all day. A piece of +bread which would have been too little for a child was all she ate, and +her drink was a bowl of spring water; yet, believe me, Clara, we never +once saw her in a bad humour, and never did a single bitter tear fall +upon the dry bread which her loyalty to her husband constrained her to +live upon." + + [Footnote 7: George Rakoczy I., Prince of Transylvania, + 1630-1648.] + + [Footnote 8: _Mente._ A fur pelisse.] + +"And why was all this?" + +"I'll tell you, my child. The money which she thus scraped together by +toil and frugality, year by year, is regularly sent by Andy to Tartary, +in part payment of Sir Michael's ransom. At such times our dear lady +grudges herself every morsel she puts into her mouth." + +The old nurse wiped the tears from her eyes. + +"And what then was the amount of the ransom?" + +"That's more than I can tell you, my daughter. Andy always brings back +the parchment on which the Tartar marks down the amount received and the +amount still due. Our noble lady keeps it herself. I, of course, never +ask any questions about it." + +The girl was silent and appeared to be reflecting; doubly quick the +spindle flew round in her hands, and her heart beat faster too. + +"My son Andy is there now," said the old dame, weary of the long +silence. "I expect him back every hour now; from him we shall hear +something certain." + +At that moment the gate outside creaked on its hinges, a little gig +rolled boisterously into the courtyard, and a joyful barking and yelping +told that an old acquaintance had arrived. + +"Our mistress has come," cried the two servants, rising from their +seats, and at the same moment the door opened and Anna Bornemissa, +Michael Apafi's wife, stepped in. + +A stately woman of almost masculine stature; the outline of her slim but +vigorous and muscular figure is plainly visible through her simple grey +linen dress. She cannot be more than thirty-six, but her face is of +those on which time leaves no trace until extreme old age. Her features +are deeply tanned by the sun, but the velvet down of well-preserved +youth and the natural ruddiness of perfect health lend a peculiar +loveliness to that extraordinary countenance. Her look surprises, +dominates, subdues; the charm which lies concealed there appears not so +much in the features as in the expression--her face is the mirror of a +noble soul. Not as if there was anything hard, rough, stiff, or +masculine in the features themselves: on the contrary. Her brow is +finely arched, delicately smooth, unobscured as yet by a single wrinkle, +and yet so full of majesty; her eyelashes are most exquisitely +pencilled; the shape of the eyes is enchanting, those large, not exactly +wild-black, but rather deep, bright, nut-brown eyes, half hidden by +their long eyelashes, and in those eyes there is so much fire, so much +sparkle, and yet so much coldness. The delicate nose, the oval face, +every feature is so femininely regular. Even the mouth when closed is so +sweet, so tender, the other features seem to use violence towards it to +prevent its smile from spreading further, and yet when it opens, how +haughty, how commanding it becomes. + +"What, still up?" cried she to her servants. + +The voice is pleasantly sonorous, although affliction has somewhat +deadened its lower notes. + +"We thought it best to stay up, in case your ladyship might be kept +waiting outside," replied the old woman, tripping round her mistress and +taking the heavy mantle from her shoulders. + +"Has not Andy yet returned?" asked Lady Apafi, in a low, melancholy +voice. + +"Not yet; but I expect him every moment." + +Lady Apafi sighed deeply. How much of stifled grief, vanishing hope, and +patient renunciation was concealed in that sigh! The recollection of the +manifold sufferings of her wretched life rose up before that heroic +woman's soul. She called to mind her brave struggle with fate, with her +fellow-men, and with her own heart; her love, grafted on pain, had +brought forth not gladness but ungratified longing. Another toilsome +year of her life had passed away. With the self-sacrificing industry of +a bee, she had hoarded up, morsel by morsel, her little store, and who +could tell how many years would be requisite to complete it? And till +then nothing but toil, patience, and unrequited love. + +Lady Apafi, not without an effort, resumed her habitual coldness, wished +her servants good-night, and was already on her way to her chamber, when +Clara rushed forward and kissed her mistress's hand. The lady looked at +her with astonishment. She felt that a burning tear had fallen on her +hand, which the girl held fast and pressed to her lips. + +"What ails you?" asked Dame Apafi, much surprised. + +"Nothing," replied the girl, sobbing; "it is only that I feel so sorry +for your ladyship. I have long had an idea in my head, but have never +yet dared to express it. We have often talked about our master's +captivity and his grievous ransom. We village girls have all of us got +necklaces of gold and silver coins which are no good to us. So we have +agreed among ourselves to club together all this money now lying idle +and give it to your ladyship towards our master's ransom. It may not be +much, but still is something." + +Lady Apafi, her eyes glistening with involuntary tears, pressed hard the +peasant girl's trembling hand. + +"I thank thee, my girl," she said, deeply touched. "I prize thy offer +more highly than if my sister Banfi had placed ten thousand gold chains +at my disposal. But God will also be my helper. In Him is my trust." + +At that moment the trampling of horses was heard in the courtyard and +the dogs fell to barking. + +"Who can that be? Robbers, perhaps!" stammered the old nurse, and +neither of the two servants durst approach the door. + +Then Dame Apafi took the light from the table, stepped to the door, +opened it, and looked out into the courtyard. + +"Who's there?" she cried, loudly and clearly. + +"We!--I mean to say I," returned a hesitating voice, which all three +immediately recognized as Andy's. + +"Oh, 'tis you? Come hither quickly!" said Lady Apafi joyfully, pushing +Andy into the room, who was plainly very much confused, for he kept on +twirling about his hat in his hands, and looked sheepishly at the floor. + +"Well, did you see him and speak to him? Is he well?" asked Lady Apafi +impetuously. + +"Yes, he is quite well," replied the man, glad to have found his voice +again; "he respectfully kisses your ladyship's hand. He also bade me say +that God is good!" + +"But what do you keep looking sideways for? At whom are the dogs +barking?" + +"At the black horse perhaps; it is a long time since they saw him." + +"And you gave the purse to the Mirza?" + +Instead of answering this question, Andy began to fumble about in the +pocket of his sheepskin jacket, and as this pocket was very high up, +narrow and deep, his features expressed the most exquisite torture till +he had fished up the parchment, and he trembled all over as he handed it +to his mistress. + +"Is there still much in arrear? What says the Mirza?" asked Lady Apafi, +with a very shaky voice. + +"There is not much more. One might even say there is very little," +replied Andy, with downcast eyes, fumbling in his confusion with the rim +of his hat. + +"But how much, how much then?" they all cried together. + +Andy got very red. + +"Well--well, there is nothing at all!" + +He said this in a broken voice, and with that he burst into a loud and +long roar of laughter, and immediately after wept as if his heart would +break. + +The mind of Dame Apafi instantly grasped the whole truth. + +"Speak, man!" cried she passionately, seizing the fellow by the +shoulder; "you have brought my husband back with you?" + +Andy waved his fist behind him and nodded his head; he laughed and wept +at the same time; but, to save his life, he could not have uttered a +word. + +Dame Apafi, with a sob and a cry of boundless joy, rushed to the door +which already stood ajar. Some one had been waiting there and listening +all the time; it was Michael Apafi, her long expected, often bewailed +consort. + +"Michael! my beloved husband!" cried the woman, trembling with emotion; +and half swooning, half beside herself, she fell upon her husband's +neck, murmuring unintelligible words of love, joy, and tenderness. + +Apafi pressed her to his breast. She embraced him convulsively; no other +sound was to be heard but a deep sobbing. + +"Thou art mine!" she stammered, after a long pause, when the tempest of +her emotion had somewhat subsided and she was more herself. + +"I am thine," cried Apafi; "and I swear that nothing in the world shall +ever tear me from thee again!" + +"O God, what bliss!" cried Anna, raising her streaming eyes to heaven. +"What joy thou hast brought back to me!" she stammered once more, +leaning on her husband and hiding her face in his bosom. + +"And if the whole world were mine," continued Apafi, "even then I should +not be rich enough to requite thy devotion. I take God to witness, that +if I could call a kingdom my own I would give it thee, and think it but +a beggarly recompense." + +The joyful, loving pair, happy beyond all expression, were then left +alone with their joy and happiness. Late into the night burned the taper +in their window. How much, how endlessly much they had to say to one +another! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE. + + +A year had elapsed since Michael Apafi's return home. There was a great +hubbub in the house at Ebesfalva. One team of horses had scarcely had +time to rest, when off went another at full gallop along the high-road; +the servants themselves were sent hither and thither; some great trouble +had evidently visited the house, but for all that, not a glum or +sorrowful face was to be seen. + +To those who could question discreetly, it was presently whispered that +the wife of Michael Apafi expected every moment to be delivered of a +child. + +Good Sir Michael never quitted the chamber of his suffering consort. The +gossips said that the sight of her husband was a great consolation to +the invalid lady, and that he never ceased whispering sweet, caressing +words into her ear. + +Suddenly a wild tumult filled the courtyard, and, to the great terror of +the servants assembled there, four-and-twenty mounted Albanians, armed +with swords and lances, and headed by a big-headed Turkish Aga, dashed +up to the door. + +"Is your master at home?" cried the Aga dictatorially to Andy, who stood +rooted to the spot with fright. "For if he is," continued he, without +waiting for an answer, "tell him to come here. I have something to say +to him."--Andy still could not find his voice.--"If, however," proceeded +the Turk emphatically, "if he won't come, I'll go and fetch him." + +And with these words he sprang from his horse, and was crossing the +threshold, when Andrew plucked up sufficient courage to stammer--"But, +most gracious sir ..." The Turk turned savagely upon him. + +"It were better, my son, if you did not chatter so much!" said he, and +forthwith he plunged into the vestibule. + +At that very moment Apafi, startled by the clatter of the sabres, came +out of his wife's chamber. He was not a little alarmed when he found +himself face to face with this unexpected guest. + +"Are you Michael Apafi?" asked the Turk wrathfully. + +"The same, at your service, gracious sir," returned Apafi meekly. + +"Good! My master, his Highness, the famous Ali Pasha, commands you to +instantly get into your carriage, and come to my lord's camp at +Kis-Selyk without a single attendant." + +"This is a pretty go," murmured Apafi to himself. "Pardon me, worthy +Aga," added he aloud; "just now it is quite impossible for me to comply +with your wish. My wife lies in the pangs of child-birth; the issues of +life and death depend on the next five minutes. I cannot leave her now." + +"Send for a doctor if your wife is ill; and recollect that to bring down +the wrath of the illustrious Pasha on your head is not the proper way to +cure _her_." + +"Grant me but one day, and then I don't care if I lose my head." + +"You won't lose your head if you obey instantly; but otherwise I'll not +answer for the consequences. Come! don't be a fool." + +Anna heard in her chamber the dialogue that was going on outside, and +anxiously called her consort. Apafi quitted the Aga and hastened to his +wife. + +"What is it?" asked the sufferer, much disturbed. How pale she was at +that moment! + +"Nothing, nothing, my darling! Some one has sent for me, but I don't +mean to go." + +But Lady Apafi had perceived the points of the Turkish lances through +the rifts of the window-curtains, and she cried despairingly-- + +"Michael, they want to carry you off!" Then she clasped her husband +convulsively to her heart. "I won't let you go, Michael! I won't lose +you again. You shall not be dragged off into captivity. Rather let them +kill me." + +"Calm yourself, dear child," said Apafi soothingly. "I really don't know +what they want me for. I have certainly done nothing to offend these +good people. I suppose it is an attempt to levy black-mail. I'll satisfy +them." + +"Alas! I have an evil foreboding. My heart fails me. Some calamity +threatens you," stammered the sick woman; then, bursting into a violent +fit of sobbing, she threw herself on her husband's bosom. "Michael, I +shall never see you again." + +Meanwhile, the Aga outside began to feel bored, so he fell to hammering +at the door, and cried-- + +"Apafi! hi! Apafi! come out! I may not enter your wife's chamber, for +that would be an abomination to a servant of Allah; but if you don't +come out at once I'll burn your house down." + +"I'd better go, perhaps," said Apafi, trying to soothe his wife with +kisses. "My refusal would only make matters worse for us. They are sure +to let me go. I shall be back in the twinkling of an eye." + +"I shall never see you again," gasped Anna. She was near to swooning. + +Apafi took advantage of this momentary fainting fit, plucked up his +courage, left his wife, and joined the Aga with streaming eyes. + +"Well, sir, let us be off," said the Turk. "But surely you won't go +without your sword, just as if you were some poor peasant," continued he +fiercely. "Go back, I say; gird on your sword, and tell your wife that +she need fear nothing." + +Apafi returned to his room, and as he took down his large +silver-embossed sword (it was hanging up on the wall right over the bed) +he said cheerily to his wife-- + +"Look, now! there can scarcely be anything unpleasant in store for me, +or they would not have bidden me buckle on my sword. Trust in God!" + +"I do, I do trust in Him," she replied, convulsively kissing her +husband's hand and pressing it to her heaving bosom. Then she broke +forth again into bitter lamentations. "Apafi, if I die, do not forget +me." + +"Alas!" cried Apafi; then bitterly cursing his fate, he tore himself out +of his consort's arms, and wishing all Turks, born and to be born, at +the bottom of the sea, rushed violently out of the room. + +Then he threw himself into his carriage, and looked neither up nor down, +but wrestled all the way with the one thought that if his wife were now +to die, he would not be able to receive her parting words; and this +thought conjured up before him a whole series of images each more +lugubrious than the other. + +He and his escort had scarcely left Ebesfalva a mile behind them when +the Turks caught sight of a horseman dashing after them at full tilt, +obviously bent on overtaking them, and they called Apafi's attention to +the fact. At first he absolutely refused to listen to them; but when +they told him that the horseman came from the direction of Ebesfalva, he +made the carriage stop and awaited the messenger. + +It was Andy who came galloping up, with waving handkerchief and loosely +hanging reins. + +"Well, Andrew! what has happened?" cried Apafi with a beating heart to +his servant while he was still a long way off. + +"Good news, sir!" cried Andy: "our most gracious lady has just now given +birth to a son, and she herself, thank God! is quite out of danger." + +"Blessed be the name of the Lord!" cried Apafi, with a lightened heart; +and as he dismissed the messenger, the idea which was at the bottom of +all his griefs vanished from his brain, and with it all his griefs also. +He thought of his new-born son, and in the light of that thought he +began to regard his Turkish escort with other eyes: they now seemed to +him as good, honourable, civilized a set of people as it was possible to +find on the face of the earth. + +It was late at night when they reached Ali Pasha's camp. The sentinels +slept like badgers; you might have carried off the whole camp bodily so +far as they were concerned. Apafi had to wait in front of the Pasha's +tent till the latter had huddled on his clothes. The curtains of the +tent were then drawn aside, and he was invited to enter. Ali Pasha was +sitting with folded arms on a carpet spread out in the back part of the +tent; behind him stood two gorgeously-dressed Moors with drawn +scimitars. The outlines of a couple of figures were distinctly visible +through the tapestry wall which separated the back part of the tent from +the audience chamber--no doubt the Pasha's wives, on the alert to pick +up something of what was going on. + +"Art thou that same Michael Apafi who was for some years the prisoner of +the Tartar Mirza?" asked the Pasha, after the usual greetings. + +"The same, most gracious Pasha, to whom also the Khan compassionately +remitted the remainder of the ransom money." + +"Think no more of that. The Mirza remitted the remainder of the ransom +money because my master, the Sublime Sultan, commanded him so to do, +and the illustrious Padishah will do yet more for thee." + +"Wonderingly I listen, and gratefully; not knowing how I have deserved +such grace," returned Apafi. + +"The Sublime Sultan has heard how honestly, discreetly, and manfully +thou hast borne thy doleful captivity, and how thou didst win the hearts +of thy fellow-captives, insomuch that they all looked up to thee, though +among slaves there is no distinction of rank. For which cause therefore, +and also having regard to the fact that the present Prince of +Transylvania, John Kemeny, would fain rebel against the Sublime Porte, +the illustrious Padishah, I say, has for these reasons resolved to raise +thee without delay to the throne of Transylvania and keep thee there." + +"Me! You are pleased to jest with your servant, most gracious sir!" +stuttered Apafi. + +His eyes were blinded by excess of light. + +"Nay, thou hast not the slightest cause to be amazed thereat. The +Padishah has but to nod, and pashas and princes become slaves, beggars, +or corpses. He nods again, and beggars and slaves rise up into their +places. Thou art highly favoured, for thou hast found grace before him. +Use it discreetly then, but beware of abusing it!" + +"But, most gracious sir, does it occur to you how I'm to become a +prince?" + +"Leave that to me. I'll make thee one." + +"But Transylvania has got another prince, John Kemeny." + +"Leave that to me also. I'll dispose of him." + +Apafi shrugged his shoulders. He felt that he had never been in such a +mess in all his life. + +"My wife was quite right in her presentiment that a great misfortune was +about to befall me," thought he to himself. + +The Pasha began again. + +"Summon therefore a Diet at once, so that the installation may take +place as speedily as possible." + +"I summon a Diet! I should like to know who would appear to my summons. +Why, sir, I am the least amongst the gentry of the land; people will +laugh in my face, and say that I am mad." + +"In that case they will soon see that it is they who are mad." + +"But how am I to send out the writs? for, excepting the land of the +Szeklers,[9] Kemeny[10] holds every place." + + [Footnote 9: _Szeklers_ (Siculi). The Szeklers were + originally a military colony placed, at the beginning + of the twelfth century, in the waste lands of + Transylvania, which they engaged to defend against the + incursions of the pagan Pechenegs, on being exempted + from every other obligation.] + + [Footnote 10: John Kemeny, Prince of Transylvania, + 1661-1662.] + +"Then summon the Szeklers. They, at any rate, will come." + +"But I don't even know _their_ chief-men, for I am not a born Szekler. +The only persons I know amongst them are Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and +Stephen Nalaczi." + +"Then summon hither Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, if you +consider them fit and proper persons." + +Apafi began to scratch his head. + +"But supposing they do appear, where shall we hold our Diet? There is no +place for us. At Klausenburg the governor, my brother-in-law, Denis +Banfi, is my sworn enemy, while at Hermannstadt lies John Kemeny in +person." + +"We can assemble here in Kis-Selyk." + +Harassed as he was, Apafi could not help laughing aloud. + +"Why, here there is not a house large enough to hold thirty men," cried +he energetically. + +"What! is there not the church?" interrupted the Pasha. "If that house +be sufficiently fine for the honour of God, I suppose it will do to +honour men in!" + +Apafi saw no further escape. + +"Can you write?" asked the Pasha. + +"Yes, I can do that," replied Apafi, sighing deeply. + +"Very well, for I cannot. So sit down and issue the writs for a Diet." + +A slave then brought in a writing-table, a scroll of parchment, and an +inkhorn. Apafi sat down like a lamb about to be slaughtered, and began +with a caligraphic flourish so large that the Turk sprang up in +affright, and asked what it meant. + +"It is a W," answered Apafi. + +"You won't leave any room for the remaining letters." + +"That is only the initial letter, the others will be much smaller." + +"Read aloud then what you are writing." + +Apafi wrote with a trembling hand and read: "Whereas--" + +The Pasha furiously tore away the parchment and roared at him. + +"Plague take all your whereases and inasmuch-ases! Why all this beating +about the bush? Write the usual formula--'We, Michael Apafi, Prince of +Transylvania, command you, wretched slaves, by these presents, to appear +incontinently before us at Kis-Selyk, under pain of death.'" + +Apafi was brought almost to his wits' ends before he could make the +Pasha comprehend that it was not usual to correspond in this style with +free Hungarian noblemen. At last the Pasha allowed him to write his +letter in his own way, but took care that its purport should be emphatic +and dictatorial. As soon as Apafi had written the letters, Ali Pasha put +a Ciaus on horseback, and sent him off at full speed to all those to +whom the writ was addressed. + +"And now," said Apafi to himself, sighing deeply as he wiped his pen, +"and now I should like to see the man who could tell me what will come +of it all!" + +"Till the Diet assembles," said the Pasha, "you will remain here as my +guest." + +"Cannot I go home then to my wife and child?" asked Apafi, with a +beating heart. + +"To give us the slip, eh? A likely tale. That is always the way with you +Hungarian nobles. Those we won't have at any price are always dangling +about our necks, and begging and praying for the princely diadem; and +those we would place on the throne take to their heels as if we were +going to impale them." And with that the Pasha assigned Apafi a tent and +dismissed him, at the same time giving secret but strict orders to the +guard of honour stationed at the door of the new Prince, not to lose +sight of him for an instant. + +"I'm nicely in for it now," sighed Apafi with the resignation of +despair. + +His solitary hope now was, that the deputies whom he had summoned would +ignore his informal mandate by failing to appear. + + * * * * * + +A few days afterwards, as Apafi still lay on his camp bedstead in the +early morning, Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, with all +the other noble Szeklers to whom the circular had been sent, suddenly +walked into his tent. + +"In Heaven's name!" cried Apafi, starting up, "why have you come +hither?" + +"Your Highness ordered us to come hither," replied Nalaczi. + +"True; but you would have shown far greater wisdom if you had kept away. +What are you going to do?" + +"Solemnly install your Highness, and, if need be, defend you also in the +good old Szekler fashion," replied Stephen Kun. + +"You are too few for that, my brothers," objected Apafi. + +"Pray be so good as to cast a glance outside the tent!" replied Nalaczi, +drawing aside the curtain and pointing to a band of Szeklers armed with +sabres and lances, who had remained outside the tent. "We have marched +out _cum gentibus_, to prove to your Highness that if we have accepted +you as our Prince, we have not done so simply by way of a jest." + +Apafi shrugged his shoulders and began to draw on his boots; but he was +so dazed all the while, that almost an hour elapsed before he was half +dressed. He put on every article of clothing the wrong way, and had to +take it off again. Thus, for example, he had slipped into his mantle +before he even thought of his vest. + +Several hundred gentlemen had met together in Selyk at his bidding, a +thing he had never expected, still less desired. + +When Ali Pasha came out of his tent, he went towards the deputies, took +Apafi by the hand in the presence of them all, threw over his shoulders +a broad, new green velvet mente,[11] put an ermine embroidered cap on +his head, and explained to the assembled crowd that henceforth they were +to regard him as their legitimate Prince; whereupon the Szeklers roared +out deafening "Eljens," raised Apafi on their shoulders, and hoisted him +on to a daïs covered with velvet which Ali Pasha had expressly provided +for the occasion. + + [Footnote 11: _Mente._ See Note 2, p. 21.] + +"And now," said the Pasha, "go to church, administer the oaths to the +Prince according to ancient custom, and yourselves take the oath of +allegiance. I have ordered the bells to be rung myself, and you had +better have a mass sung in the usual way." + +"Your pardon, but I am a Calvinist," protested Apafi. + +"So much the better. The ceremony will be over all the quicker, and will +cost less trouble. There is the Rev. Francis Magyari, he will preach the +sermon." + +After that Apafi let them do whatever they liked with him, merely +twirling his long moustaches hither and thither, and shrugging his +shoulders whenever they asked him questions. + +Nalaczi and the other Szeklers thought good to treat him in church with +all the respect due to a sovereign prince, and the Rev. Francis Magyari +improvised a powerful sermon, in which he prophesied, in a voice of +thunder, that the God of Israel who had called David from the sheepfolds +to a throne, and exalted him over all his adversaries, would now also +graciously maintain the cause of His elect even though his enemies were +as numerous as the grass of the field or the sand on the sea-shore. + +This modest little house of prayer could never have thought that it +would have been the scene of a Diet and a coronation; and as for Apafi, +not even in his wildest dreams had it ever occurred to him that such +things might befall him. + +He had eyes and ears neither for the coronation nor for the sermon, but +kept on thinking of his wife and child. What would become of them, poor +creatures; where would they be able to hide their heads when John Kemeny +had put him in prison, confiscated his estates, and driven them out of +house and home? It next occurred to him that, somewhere in Szeklerland, +he had a brother, Stephen Apafi, with whom he had always been on the +most friendly terms, who would certainly take them under his roof if he +saw them destitute. These thoughts made him so forgetful of everything +around him, that when at the close of the sermon all present arose and +intoned the _Te Deum_, he too got up, oblivious of the fact that all +this ceremony was being held in his special honour. + +Then some one behind him placed two hands on his shoulders, pressed him +down into his seat again, and a well-known voice growled into his ear-- + +"Keep your seat." + +Apafi looked in the direction of the voice, and fell back in his chair +completely overcome. His brother Stephen was actually standing behind +him. + +"You here too?" said Apafi, deeply distressed. + +"I was a little late," returned Stephen, "but quite early enough after +all, and I'll venture to remain here till you tell me to go." + +"So you have also resolved to plunge into destruction?" + +"Brother," said Stephen, "we are in the hands of God; but something has +been put into our own hands also which may have a say in the matter," +and he touched the hilt of his sword. "Kemeny has lost the affection of +the greater part of the country; why I need not now tell you. Your cause +is righteous, nor do you lack the means of success." + +"But if it should turn out otherwise, what would become of my wife? Have +you not seen her?" + +"I came straight from her--that is why I came so late." + +"What! You have spoken to her? What did she say about my evil case? Was +she not much troubled?" + +"Not in the least. On the contrary, she was very glad of it, and said +that Transylvania could not have got a better prince; that you deserved +this honour far more than any of the magnates who practise nothing but +tyranny and extortion, and that she much regretted her illness prevented +her from assisting you with her sympathy and counsel." + +"Well, I should have liked it better if the election had fallen upon +her," said Apafi, half in jest and half in anger. + +"Take heed to yourself," answered Stephen archly; "the lady is already +so much used to ruling the roost, that we shall live to see her put the +Prince's diadem on her own head, unless you plant it right firmly on +your temples. Nay, brother, don't look so serious; I was but in jest!" + +But does not the proverb say that there is many a true word spoken in +jest? + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA. + + +Meanwhile, his Highness, Prince John Kemeny, was faring sumptuously at +Hermannstadt. This gentleman's darling vice was gluttony--even if the +whole machinery of state were to fall to pieces in consequence, he would +not have risen from table, and amongst all his counsellors his cook +always stood highest. + +And now, too, we find him at dinner. He has converted the Town-hall to +his own use, and it is thronged by his suite. In the courtyard we see +spurred and iron-clad cuirassiers flirting with the Saxon serving-maids; +German musketeers, professedly on guard, who have left their muskets +standing against the doorposts, in order to cultivate friendly relations +with the scullions removing the dishes. With brimming glasses raised on +high, they jocosely warble Hungarian airs picked up on the spur of the +moment, improvising at the same time an absurdly artless sort of dance, +in which one leg performs aimless aërial gyrations. On the other hand, +the heydukes of the Hungarian bodyguard, dressed in yellow dolmans with +green facings, sit morosely in twos and threes against the wall, not +even condescending to look at the bumpers of wine thrust, from time to +time, into their hands; but gravely tossing it down at a single gulp +into its proper place, returning the empty pocal to the friendly butler, +who has as much as he can do to keep his feet; keeps on offering the +noble fluid to Tom, Dick, and Harry; and finding it easier to go +backwards than forwards, is constantly backing against the head cook as +he passes to and fro, bearing now a sugared almond tart adorned with +flowers on a silver salver, and representing the tower of Babel, now a +large porcelain bowl exhaling the spicy fragrance of hot punch, or a +peacock on a large wooden platter, roasted whole, with his gorgeous +head-dress and splendid tail still upon him. + +The head cook is scarcely able to force his way through the gaping mob +of petitioners assembled here, who must wait till the Prince has dined, +and are regaled in the meantime with wine, roast meats, and pastry, +getting in short everything but what they came for--justice. + +Within the dining-room itself the gentlemen and ladies are by this time +in a merry mood. The meal has already lasted a pretty long time, and is +likely to last a good while longer. + +French gastronomic science seemed to have reserved all her masterpieces +for Kemeny's banquet. Nature's three kingdoms have been laid under +contribution to tickle the human palate. Every extravagant and +extraordinary delicacy invented by Epicureanism, from the days of +Lucullus to the days of Gallic gourmandism, is here in abundance. Here +is to be seen every sort of foreign and domestic wine, in +artistically-carved and gorgeously-coloured Venetian flasks, placed in +huge silver refrigerators; game, large and small, of the rarest kind, on +silver dishes; transparent, rose-coloured, quivering jellies with names +unpronounceable by Hungarian lips; Indian fruits preserved in cane +sugar; _ragoûts_ of cocks' combs; enigmatical-looking snails, fit rather +for the eye than for the palate; gigantic lobsters and the rarer kinds +of marine fish fantastically disposed; meats which men who have already +eaten to surfeit can only make believe that they enjoy by a supreme +effort of the imagination; dishes which a true man would only eat by way +of penance; immense pasties made entirely of pikes' livers; large +baskets of rosy swans' eggs, which the guests may boil for amusement in +little silver egg-boilers placed over spirit-lamps in front of them, and +other wonderful dishes innumerable, the purpose of which is not +immediately obvious to ordinary children of men, and everything in such +profusion as would have more than sufficed for six times the number of +guests present. Then too there were there all sorts of spiced drinks to +suit every one's taste, from punch-royal to Polish brandy. Nothing was +forgotten. + +Behind every guest stands a little page, who whisks away his well-filled +plate from him the instant he turns his head, and places before him a +clean one instead. Behind the Prince's chair stands the son of Count +Ladislaus Csaky, who is right proud that a son of his should have the +privilege of filling and refilling the Prince's pocal. + +And the Prince's pocal has to be filled pretty often. Transylvanian +banquets generally ended with a wager on the part of the gentlemen to +drink one another under the table. At such banquets John Kemeny has no +equal. Now too he invites the bolder spirits to take up the usual +challenge. The greater part of the guests, however, decline the +invitation. Only three persons respond to the Prince's challenge. The +first is Wenzinger, the leader of the German mercenaries, a big, +raw-boned man, with a closely-shaven head, bright blue eyes, somewhat +stooping neck, and scarcely visible grey eyebrows. The second is Paul +Beldi, Captain-General of the Szeklers, a grave, handsome, +amiable-looking man with a very high forehead. The wine he has taken +gives a sparkle to his gentle eyes, and his taciturn lips are parted in +a half-smile--drink produces no other effect upon him. He wears a simple +yellow camelot dolman, with a scarlet, silver-embossed girdle round the +waist; his white shirt-collar extends far over his dark-blue kerchief. +His smoothly-combed hair is parted down the middle, brushed behind his +ears, and falls in long locks over his shoulders. The man with delicate +white hands who sits opposite to him, Denis Banfi, Lord-Lieutenant of +Klausenburg, is the third competitor. He is a middle-aged, +broad-shouldered, haughty-looking man, with an air of savage truculence +on his aristocratic face. His thick black beard has never yet been +touched by a razor. His dark, chestnut brown locks lie in spiral rolls +upon his forehead, and flow down over both shoulders in rich crisp +curls. His round face is red by nature, but wine has now made it redder +than ever. His sparkling eyes glance defiantly around. When he addresses +any one he strokes his double chin, screws his neck on one side, and +speaks in a sharp, irritating tone, at the same time throwing back his +haughty head provocatively, and assuming an expression of endless +condescension. His dress consists of a purple dolman with large +enamelled buttons, and over that a short, heavy, white silk tabard +trimmed with swan's-down, the sleeves of which are slit up to the elbows +and garnished with rubies. His golden knightly belt is thrown over his +shoulder with lordly negligence. + +At the head of the table sits John Kemeny himself, with the consorts of +Beldi and Banfi one on each side of him. Kemeny, despite his frequent +intercourse and close relations with the West, still prefers to adopt +the oriental costume. He is characterized by short clipped hair, a long +beard, a grave, dignified face, and a curt, monosyllabic style of +speech. The ruling expression of his face is an unmistakable, fatalistic +indifference to everything about him, an indifference which was ere long +to overwhelm him in so terrible a catastrophe. + +One of the ladies by his side, Banfi's wife, is a delicate, nervous, +gentle being, scarcely twenty years old. Ever since her sixteenth year +she has stood beneath the influence of her violent, imperious husband, +and is now almost as timid as a child. She scarcely ever dares to raise +her eyes, and then only to look at her lord, whom she loves +idolatrously. Her neck and shoulders are covered by a heavy, watered +silk dress, fastened by a row of diamond buttons. Round her neck twines +a gold chain, between each of the large broad links of which sparkles an +emerald. A silk coif set with pearls adorns her head, reaching half-way +down over her forehead, and jealously hiding the blonde locks of the +lovely lady. + +On the other side, between her husband and the Prince, sits Beldi's +wife, still a dazzling beauty. Her complexion ordinarily has the tint of +the white rose, but is now all aglow with the fire of the banquet: her +flushed cheeks seem literally to burn. Her coquettish black eyes roam +hither and thither. A seductive magic lurks in her eyebrows, and when +she lowers her long eyelashes over her burning eyes, how ravishing she +is! Her black locks are held together, not by a coif, but by strings of +pearls artistically intertwined and fastened behind to a little diamond +diadem, from which a long gold filigree veil descends to the ground. Her +dress consists of a tight-fitting, cherry-coloured kirtle of Hungarian +velvet, wide open in front and fastened over her embroidered cambric +smock by strings of pearls. Her snow-white shoulders peep half out of +the short, puffed sleeves, which are fastened in the middle by huge opal +clasps, leaving bare her exquisitely-shaped arms. She wears bracelets of +large oriental pearls, and a pale pink rose is stuck nonchalantly in her +bosom. + +The guests sitting at the far end of the table are plainly scandalized +by the coquettish ways of the siren, who, although she has a +marriageable daughter, still presumes to appear publicly in an open +kirtle; but the Prince, the impetuous Banfi, and even her own dove-like +husband, who worships his wife, appear to be all the more delighted with +her in consequence. + +The drinking wager had already somewhat exhilarated the worthy +gentlemen, so that they began to mingle their songs with the music which +had been playing in the gallery ever since the banquet began, when the +captain of the guard, Gabriel Haller, suddenly rushed into the room with +a very serious face, and hastening to the Prince, whispered a couple of +words in his ear. Kemeny looked first at him and then at the glass he +held in his hand, emptied it with the utmost composure, and then burst +into a loud peal of laughter. + +"Pray tell your tidings to the company, that they may know what is going +on," cried he to Haller, in a loud voice. + +Haller hesitated. + +"Come! Out with it. You could not, if you tried, invent anything half so +entertaining. Stop playing up there, will you! This is something like a +joke." + +The company urged Haller to lose no time in passing the joke on. + +"There is not much to tell," said Haller, shrugging his shoulders. "It +is only that Ali Pasha has proclaimed Michael Apafi Prince of +Transylvania." + +"Ha! ha! ha!" resounded on all sides. The Prince, with comic +affectation, turned first to one and then to the other. + +"Who is the individual? Does any one know him? Has anybody ever heard of +him?" + +Lady Banfi turned pale and clung tightly to her husband's arm, who +leaned his elbow on the table and replied with sublime indifference-- + +"The poor devil is, I believe, a very distant connection of mine. He has +married some relation or other of my wife's. He was for a long time a +slave among the Tartars, and the Turks (being wroth with us just now) +have no doubt only released him on condition that he allows himself to +be made Prince. He must be clean out of his senses." + +At this all the gentlemen laughed still more loudly than before. + +"Well, we'll go and inaugurate him," said Kemeny sarcastically, throwing +back his head. + +"That has already been done, your Highness," put in Haller. + +"Where? By whom?" asked the good-humoured Prince, with arched eyebrows. + +"At Kis-Selyk, by the Diet!" + +Kemeny intimated by a wave of his hand and a contraction of his eyebrows +that this explanation was not quite clear to him. + +"Who then were present? Where were the Estates? All the men of any +importance in the land are here with us." + +"There were Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, Kun, Daczo, and some two hundred +Szeklers." + +"Well, we'll go and count them as soon as we have disposed of our other +affairs," said the Prince contemptuously. "Pray give Master Haller a +chair!" + +"But they are not awaiting us there. They are marching against us. By +this time they must be at Segesvar." + +"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Kemeny. "I suppose, then, Master Michael Apafi +thinks to drive us out of the country with his couple of hundred +Szeklers." + +But now Wenzinger rose from his chair, and remarked with soldierly +precision-- + +"Does your Highness wish me to concentrate the army? We have eight +thousand armed men, and, if it please your Highness, we will disperse +this mob of nondescripts so effectually that not a couple of them shall +remain together." + +"Keep your seat!" commanded Kemeny, who treated the whole affair with +the most sovereign contempt. "Sit down again and drink! Let them come a +little nearer! Why should we inconvenience ourselves by going out +against them? We can then take the whole lot together bag and baggage. I +much regret, my lord Denis Banfi, that this fellow is a kinsman of +yours; but, out of regard for you, I will take care that he is not +broken on the wheel--I will simply have him _stuffed_!" + +Kemeny's witticism was received with uproarious laughter. + +"Give Master Haller a glass. And you up there! go on playing where you +left off." + +And once more the music resounded. The gipsy band now played a +_csárdás_.[12] The gentlemen clinked glasses and sang in unison. The +guards outside joined in the song. The glasses flew against the wall. +Every one was ready to dash his glass into a thousand pieces except +Gabriel Haller, who, being the last comer and therefore tolerably +sober, was ashamed to destroy the expensive Venetian crystals so +recklessly. + + [Footnote 12: _Csárdás_ [pr. _chárdásh_]. The national + dance of Hungary. It is danced in 3/4 time by single + couples, who improvise the figures. It commences with a + very slow and stately movement, gradually quickening + into a furious gallop.] + +"Come! down with it! Let the splinters fly!" roared the Prince at him, +and to please his Highness Haller dutifully but gingerly rapped his +glass against the table till it broke off clean at the neck, quite +decently and respectably, whereupon he bowed low to his Highness with +obsequious humility. + +Dame Banfi sighed at the thought of her kinswoman; but Banfi, to show +how very little he cared about the matter, leaped from his chair, and +with the wild music of the _csárdás_ ringing in his ears, invited the +lovely Lady Beldi to a dance. + +The merry siren did not require twice bidding. Banfi passed his arm +around her slender waist, pressed her tightly to his breast, and whirled +away with her. The fiery beauty hung with elfin airiness on her +partner's arm. + +Then all the other gentlemen present, carried away by Banfi's example, +also leaped from their seats and whirled away with their fair +neighbours, till the whole company resolved itself into a maze of +fantastically revolving figures, every one dancing, applauding, and +huzzahing to his heart's content. + +Banfi was an impetuous, hot-blooded man who loved pretty women in +general and at all times. Now, moreover, he was heated with wine, and +thus it came about that as his lovely partner was dangling on his arm +and her glowing cheeks came very near to his, he suddenly so far forgot +himself as to press the bewitching dame to his breast and imprint a +burning kiss upon her lips. + +Lady Beldi shrieked aloud, and instantly repulsed the self-forgetful +Lothario. Banfi, much confused, cast a glance around him; but apparently +every one was so taken up with his own amusement, that neither the +shriek nor the kiss had been observed. + +Nevertheless, Lady Beldi, very much offended, left off dancing, and when +Banfi began stammering some sort of an apology, she sharply told him to +be off and leave her. + +Banfi will one day have to pay very dearly for that kiss! + +Nobody had observed it, however, save him whom it most concerned--the +husband. Beldi's eyes had seen it. Oh! you must not imagine that an +uxorious husband is never jealous. Even though he makes as though he +hears and sees nothing, he sees and hears and observes all the same. He +had seen Banfi kiss his wife, although he feigned not to perceive his +consort's confusion as, excited and indignant, she went in search of +him. He took her by the hand and led her out of the room. When they got +outside, he bade her go to her lodgings and dress for a journey. + +"Whither are we going?" asked the agitated lady. + +"Home to Bodola!" + + * * * * * + +Of all the guests, Denis Banfi was the only one who saw them quit the +room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BODOLA. + + +In one of the innermost recesses of the county of Felsö-Feher, when you +have left behind you the Boza Pass, or avoided it by taking one of the +narrow footpaths which wind along the mountain side, you will come in +sight of the Tatrang valley. + +On every side of you are hills wrapped in lilac-coloured mists, and +behind the hills the heaven-aspiring peak of Kapri, glistening with +early-fallen snow. From the mist-shrouded valley below emerge four or +five villages, with their white houses sending up bluish smoke-wreaths +among the green orchards. The little Tatrang stream winds, silvery blue, +in and out among the quiet villages, forming cascades in its downward +progress, which in the dim distance look like fleecy mists. The clouds +sink so deeply down into the valleys that their golden, veil-like shapes +hide first this and then that object from the eyes of the observer on +the hill-tops. There you can see Hosszufalva, with its far-stretching +street. There, again, the tiny church of Zajzonfalva, whose pointed, +tin-covered roof gleams far and wide in the rays of the sun. Tatrang +lies on the banks of the stream, just where a large wooden bridge has +been thrown across it. Far, very far off, black and misty, are to be +seen the walls of Kronstadt and the blue outlines of the still unscathed +citadel. In the valley just below you is the straggling village of +Bodola. The houses lie low, but the church stands on rising ground, and +opposite the village you notice a sort of small fortress with broad +towers, black bastions, and projecting battlements. The western bastion +is built on a steep rock, whence there is a fall of three hundred feet +on to the roofs of the houses below. + +It is only in the distance, however, that the castle looks so gloomy. On +approaching nearer, you perceive that what had seemed, from afar, to be +a dark green belt of bushes, is really a wreath of flower-gardens thrown +round the ramparts. The large Gothic windows are adorned with handsome +sculptures and stained glass. A well-kept, serpentine path winds up the +steep rock, and there is a mossy stone seat at every bend. Where the +rock is most precipitous a breastwork has been thrown up. The pointed +turrets of the castle are all painted red, and adorned with fantastic +weathercocks. + +The path leading through the Boza Pass to Kronstadt is not more than an +hour's journey from this little castle, and along this path, at the very +time when Prince John Kemeny was still regaling himself at Hermannstadt, +we see a long line of cavalry wending their way into the valley +below--two thousand Turkish horsemen, or thereabouts, distinguishable +from afar by the scarlet tips of their turbans and their snow-white +kaftans. Among them are some hundreds of Wallachian irregulars in brown +gabardines and long black _csalmaks_.[13] + + [Footnote 13: _Csalmak_ [pr. _chalmak_]. A low, skin + turban.] + +The way is so narrow here that the horsemen can only proceed along in +couples, so that while the rearguard is still painfully making its way +through the narrow defile between converging rocks, the vanguard has +already reached Tatrang. + +The Turkish general is a middling-sized, sunburnt man, with eyes as bold +and bellicose as an eagle's. A large scar runs right across his +forehead. His beard curls in little locks around his chin. His moustache +is twisted fiercely upwards on both sides, making one suspect an +excessively fiery temper in its possessor, a suspicion confirmed by his +hard and curt mode of speech, the haughty carriage of his head, and the +impatient movements of his body. + +He halts his little army outside the village, to give the rearmost time +to come up. Last of all roll a few wagons and a large pumpkin-shaped +coach. This is all the heavy baggage which the Turks carry with them. +The rearguard is led by a child whose round, cherub face contrasts +strangely with his glittering scimitar and his grave, commanding look. +He cannot be more than twelve. Inside the coach, the curtains of which +are thrown back on both sides so as to freely admit the evening air, we +perceive a young lady of about five-and-twenty years of age, dressed +half in Turkish, half in Christian costume, for she wears the wide +silken hose and the short blue open kaftan of the Turkish ladies, but +has taken off her turban, and her face, contrary to Turkish custom, is +without a veil. She gazes with the utmost composure out of the carriage +window, bestowing her attention now upon the landscape and now upon the +passing peasants. + +The Turkish commander is marshalling his forces in the village below. +They seem used to the strictest discipline. Every one looks steadily at +his leader without moving a muscle. At the head of the left wing stands +the little boy; a tall, muscular man leads the right. The Wallachs are +drawn up in the rear. + +"My brave fellows,"--the Pasha addresses his troops in a hard, sharp +voice--"you will pitch your tents here! Every one will remain in his +place hard by his saddled horse, without laying aside arms or armour. +Ferhad Aga[14] with twelve men will go into the village and respectfully +ask the magistrate to send hither forty hundredweights of bread, just as +much flesh, and double as much hay and oats, at the average price of +four asper[15] per pound, neither more nor less." + + [Footnote 14: _Aga._ An honorary title among the Turks, + here equivalent to lieutenant.] + + [Footnote 15: _Asper._ A small silver coin worth about + fifteen to twenty kreutzers.] + +Then the Pasha turned towards the Wallachs-- + +"You, dogs! don't suppose that we have come hither to plunder! Stir not +from this spot, for if I find out that so much as a goose has been +stolen from the village, I'll hang up your leaders and decimate the rest +of you!" + +He then selected four horsemen. + +"You will follow me," said he; "the rest remain here. This very night we +resume our march. During my absence Feriz Beg commands." + +The little boy bowed. + +"If Feriz Beg receives orders from me to quit you, you will obey Ferhad +Aga till I return." + +With that the Pasha struck his spurs into his horse's sides, and +galloped with his escort towards Bodola. + +Then the boy whom the Pasha had called Feriz Beg rode forward with +soldierly assurance, and in a deep, sonorous voice gave the order to +dismount. His hard-mouthed Arab plunged, kicked, and reared, but the +little commander, heedless of the capers of his steed, delivered his +further orders with perfect self-possession. + +Meanwhile the Pasha pursued his way towards Bodola Castle. + +Paul Beldi had arrived there only the day before with his wife, having +quitted Kemeny's Court without a word of explanation, and was standing +in the porch at the moment when the Turkish horsemen trotted into the +courtyard. In those days the relations of Transylvania with the Turks +were so peculiar, that visits of this kind might be made at any time +without any previous announcement. + +The Pasha no sooner beheld Beldi, than he sprang from his horse, ran up +the steps to him, and brusquely presented himself--"I am Kucsuk Pasha. +Being in the way, I came to have a word with thee if thou canst listen." + +"Command me," replied Beldi, pointing to the reception-room, and +motioning to his guest to enter first. + +It was a square-built room, the walls of which were painted with +oriental landscapes, the spaces between the windows being filled by +large cut-glass mirrors in steel frames. The marble floor was covered +with large variegated carpets. Round about the walls hung ancestral +pictures, with clusters here and there of ancient weapons of strange +shape and construction. In the middle of the room stood a large green +marble table with fantastically twisted legs. Huge arm-chairs with +morocco coverings and ponderous carvings were dispersed about the room. +Facing the entrance was a door leading to a balcony, commanding a +panorama of the snow-capped mountains. The evening twilight cast red and +lilac patches through the painted windows on the faces of those who are +now entering. + +"How can I serve you?" inquired Beldi of the Pasha. + +"Thou art well aware," replied Kucsuk, "that great discord now prevails +in this country on account of the throne." + +"It does not concern me. I have made up my mind to remain neutral." + +"I have not come hither to beg for thy advice or assistance in that +matter; the sword will decide it. What brings me to thee is a purely +family affair which concerns me deeply." + +Beldi, much surprised, made his guest sit down beside him. + +"Speak," said he. + +"Thou mayest perhaps have heard, that once upon a time a daughter of the +Kallay family fell in love with a young Turkish horseman, naturally +without the consent of her kinsfolk?" + +"Yes, I've heard of it. People say that the young Turk was equally +victorious in love and in war." + +"Possibly. His victories in war, however, have disqualified him from +being the Knight of Love. Thou seest that my face is furrowed with +scars; know that I am the man who wedded that woman!" + +Beldi began to regard the Pasha with curiosity and astonishment. + +"I have continued to love that woman devotedly," pursued the Pasha. +"That may appear strange to thee in the mouth of a Turk, but so it is. I +have had neither wife nor concubine beside her. She has borne me a son, +of whom I am proud. My affairs just now are in such a critical condition +that I must, with God's help, work wonders, or perish on the +battle-field. Thou knowest that the religion of Mahommed highly commends +such a death. I have therefore no anxiety on that score. It is the +thought of my wife which disturbs me. If she should lose me and my son, +she would be in great straits. She would be persecuted in Turkey because +she remained a Christian; she would be persecuted in Transylvania +because she married a Mussulman. There my kinsfolk, here her own, are +her enemies. I come to thee therefore with a petition. I have heard tell +of thee as an honourable man, and of thy wife as a worthy woman. Receive +my consort into thy family circle. She will not be a burden to thee, for +I leave her everything I possess. All she wants is thy protection. If +thou dost promise me that, thou canst count upon my eternal friendship +and gratitude, and mayst command my fortune, my sword, and my life in +case I survive." + +Beldi pressed the hand of the Pasha. + +"Bring your wife hither. I and my family will welcome her as a +kinswoman." + +"I may bring her then?" + +"We shall be delighted to see her," returned Beldi; and he commanded his +retainers to escort the Pasha's suite back to Tatrang with torches, and +fetch from thence his carriage. + +Kucsuk sent word by them that Feriz Beg was to come too. + +Meanwhile Beldi introduced Kucsuk to his wife, and he was not a little +delighted to find that she recollected the Pasha's wife as one of her +girlish friends, whom she looked forward to see again with sincere joy +and some curiosity. + +After the lapse of some hours the carriage rumbled noisily into the +well-paved courtyard. Feriz Beg escorted it on horseback. + +Lady Beldi hastened down the steps to meet the Pasha's wife as she +stepped out of the coach, and received her with a cry of joy--"What! +Catharine! Do you still know me?" + +The lady immediately recognized her youthful playfellow, and the two +friends rushed into each other's arms, kissed again and again, and said +of course the sweetest things to each other--"Why, darling, you are more +handsome than ever!"--"And you, dear! What a stately woman you have +grown!" etc., etc., etc. + +"Look, this is my son," said Catharine, pointing to Feriz Beg, who, +after dismounting, had hastened with childlike tenderness to help his +mother out of her coach. + +"Oh, what a little darling!" cried Lady Beldi, quite enchanted, and +covering the rosy-cheeked child with kisses. + +If only she had known that this child was a child no longer, but a +general! + +"And I've got children too!" continued Lady Beldi, with maternal +emulation. "You shall see them! Does your son speak Hungarian?" + +"Hungarian!" cried Catharine, almost offended; "what! the child of an +Hungarian mother, and not speak Hungarian! How can you ask such a +question?" + +"So much the better," said Lady Beldi, "the children will become friends +all the more quickly. From henceforth you belong to the family. Our +husbands have settled all that already, and we shall be so delighted!" + +The amiable and sprightly housewife then embraced her friend once more, +took Feriz Beg by the hand, and led them both into the family circle, +chatting merrily all the time, and asking and answering a thousand +questions. + +A cheerful fire was sparkling in the chimney of the ladies' cabinet. +Large flowered-silk curtains darkened the walls. On a little ivory table +ticked a gorgeous clock, ablaze with rubies and chrysoprases. Sofas +covered in cornflower-blue velvet offered you a luxurious repose. On a +round table in the centre of the room, from which an embroidered Persian +tapestry fell in rich folds to the ground, stood a heavy candelabrum of +massive silver, representing a siren holding on high a taper in each of +her outstretched hands. + +In front of the fine white marble chimney-piece were Dame Beldi's +children. The elder, Sophia, a tall, slight, bashful-looking beauty of +some fourteen summers, was bustling about the fire. She still wore her +hair as children do, thrown back in two long, large plaits which reached +almost to her heels. This girl was afterwards Paul Wesselenyi's consort. + +The second child, a little girl of about four, was kneeling at the feet +of her elder sister, and throwing dried flowers into the fire. She went +by the name of _Aranka_, which in Hungarian means "little goldy," for +she carried her name on her locks, which flowed over her round little +shoulders in light golden waves. Her vivacious features, sparkling eyes, +and tiny hands are never still, and now too she is mischievously teasing +and thwarting her elder sister, laughing aloud with artless glee +whenever Sophia, naturally without succeeding in the least, tries to be +very angry. + +On hearing footsteps and voices at the door, both children spring up +hastily. The elder one, perceiving strangers, tries to smooth the +creases out of her dress, while Aranka rushes uproariously to her +mother, embraces her knees, and looks up at her with her plump little +smiling face. + +"These are my children," said Lady Beldi with inward satisfaction. + +Catharine embraced the elder girl, who shyly presented her forehead to +be kissed. + +"And here's your cousin, little Feriz. You must kiss him too!" said Lady +Beldi, pushing together the bashful children, who scarcely dared to +press the tips of their lips together. Sophia immediately afterwards +blushed right up to the ears, and rushed out of the room. Nothing would +induce her to show herself again that evening. + +"Oh, you shamefaced mimosa!" cried Lady Beldi, laughing loudly. "Why, +Aranka is braver than you. Eh, my little girl? You're not afraid to kiss +Cousin Feriz, are you?" + +The little thing looked up at the boy and drew back, clinging fast all +the time to her mother's skirts, but never once removing her large, +dark-blue eyes from Feriz, who knelt down, took the little girl in his +arms, and gave her a hearty kiss on her round, rosy cheeks. + +Having gone safely through this ordeal, Aranka was quite at home with +her new acquaintance. She bade the Turkish cousin sit him down on a +stool by the fire, and, laying her head on his lap, began asking him +questions about everything he wore, from the hilt of his scimitar to the +plume in his turban--absolutely nothing escaped her curiosity. + +"Let the children play!" cried Lady Beldi merrily, as with high +good-humour she led her friend out upon the balcony, from whence they +could survey the whole Tatrang valley now floating in the bright +moonlight. + +Here the two women--while the men were engaged with serious matters, and +the children were playing--here the two women entered into one of those +long confidential chats which young ladies find so charming when they +are by themselves, especially when they have as much to ask and answer +as these two had. + +Kucsuk Pasha's wife was a middling-sized, powerfully-built woman. Her +well-rounded bosom and broad shoulders were shown off by her +tight-fitting kaftan, which was fastened round the waist by a girdle of +gold thread, and reached somewhat lower down than is usual with the +dresses of Turkish ladies, just permitting a glance at her wide, +flowing, red silk pantaloons and her dainty little yellow slippers. Her +face, if a trifle too stern and hard, was yet most lovely; her full and +florid complexion betokened a somewhat choleric temperament; her thick, +coal-black eyebrows had almost grown together, and her gaze was burning +in its intensity. + +Lady Beldi made her sit down by her side, took her familiarly by the +hand, and playfully asked-- + +"Your husband then has no other wife but you?" + +Catharine laughed, and replied with just a shade of impatience-- + +"I suppose, now, you fancy that an Hungarian woman has only to wed a +Turk to instantly become his slave? You have no idea how dearly my +husband loves me." + +"I am sure of it, Catharine. But recollect that my question related to +what has long been customary among you." + +"Among us! My dear, I am not a Turkish woman!" + +"What then?" + +"A Christian, just as you are. We were married by a Calvinist minister, +the Rev. Martin Biro, now an exile in Constantinople, and for whom my +husband, out of gratitude, has built a church where the Hungarians and +Transylvanians who dwell there may attend divine service." + +"Really! Then your husband does not persecute the Christians?" + +"Certainly not. He believes that every religion is good, as leading to +heaven, but that his own faith is the best, as opening the gate of the +very highest heaven. Moreover, my husband has a very good heart, and is +much more enlightened than most of his fellows." + +"But why have you not tried to convert him to the Christian religion?" + +"Why should I? Because our poets regularly conclude their love-romances +in which a Turk falls in love with a Christian girl, by bringing him to +baptism and dressing him in a mente instead of a kaftan? Here, however, +you have one of those romances of real life, in which a woman follows +her spouse and sacrifices everything for him." + +"No doubt you are right, Catharine; but you must let me get used to the +idea that a Christian, let alone an Hungarian, girl may wed a Turk." + +"And listen, dear Lady Beldi: surely God would have imputed less merit +to me, if I had converted my husband to our faith, instead of leaving +him in the faith wherein he was born? As a Christian renegade he would +have occupied but a humble place in our little church; while as one of +the most influential of the Pashas, he has made the fate of all the +Christians in Turkey so tolerable, that the Christian subjects of other +states flock over to us as to a land of promise. Often, when he has +received his share of the spoils of battle, he has handed me a long list +with the names of those of my enslaved countrymen whom he has ransomed +at a great price. He has expended immense treasures in this way. And +believe me, love, the perusal of such a list gives me more pleasure than +the sight of the most beautiful oriental pearls which my husband might +easily have purchased with the amount, and it has raised him higher in +my estimation than if he had learnt the whole Psalter by heart. And he +is not the man to break the word he has once given, whether it be to God +or to his fellow-man. If he were capable of abjuring his religion, I +could believe no longer in his love, for then he would cease to be him +whom I have always known; he would cease to be the man who, when once he +has said a thing, always abides by it, never goes back from, and is to +be moved neither by the terrors of death nor the tears of a woman." + +Lady Beldi embraced her friend, and kissed her glowing cheeks. + +"You are right, my good Catharine! 'Tis our prejudices that prevent us +from rising higher than everyday thoughts. It is true. Love also has her +faith, her religion. But how about your country? Have you never thought +of that?" + +Catharine rose with proud self-satisfaction from her seat, and pressed +her friend's hand. + +"Let this convince you that I indeed love my country. I am about to +sacrifice for it the lives of my husband and my son, whom perhaps I now +behold for the last time." + +Lady Beldi's face plainly showed that she did not quite grasp the +meaning of these words, and Catharine was about to explain them to her, +when a servant announced that the gentlemen had long been awaiting them +in the dining-room. + +Lady Beldi thereupon gave her arm to her friend and led her into the +dining-room. The children had already become such close friends that +Aranka allowed Feriz Beg to carry her in to dinner, playing all the time +with childish coquetry with the diamond clasp of his agraffe. + +The lady of the house assigned to every one his place. Catharine took +the upper end of the table. On her right sat the Pasha, on her left the +hostess. The host took his place at the lower end of the table. Feriz +and Aranka sat side by side. Opposite Feriz was an empty place, the shy +Sophia's, whom nothing could induce to come to dinner. + +Catharine seeing that a large wine-jug was placed in front of her +husband, quickly seized it in order to exchange it for a cut-glass +caraffe full of pure, sparkling spring water. Lady Beldi remarked the +action, and glanced mischievously at her embarrassed friend. + +"He never drinks wine," said Catharine apologetically. "It is not good +for him. He is of a somewhat excitable nature." + +Kucsuk smiled and lifted Catharine's hand to his lips. + +"Why gloss over the truth? Why not say straight out that I do not drink +wine because the Koran forbids it, because I am a Mussulman?" + +Beldi shook his head at his wife and pointed at the children in order to +give another turn to the conversation. + +"It looks as if your son were already quite at home with us, Kucsuk. You +shall see, when you come back, what a Magyar we have made of him." + +Kucsuk and Feriz exchanged a proud and rapid glance, and then both of +them looked at Beldi. + +The child's features had suddenly and completely changed; at that moment +he looked wondrously like his father. There was the same hard, stony +glance, the same defiant bearing, the same haughty elevation of the +brows. + +"So thou dost imagine, Beldi," said Kucsuk severely, "that I only +brought my son hither to leave him with thee?" + +"But surely you do not mean to take that child with you to battle?" + +"Child dost thou call him! He is already the commander of four hundred +mounted Spahis; has already been in three engagements; has had two +horses shot under him, and is to command the left wing of my forces in +the impending battle." + +The Beldis looked with amazement at the child, who, with all eyes fixed +upon him, assumed his most manly air. + +"But I hope that you will at least keep him by your side in the heat of +the fight?" said Lady Beldi, much disturbed. + +"Not at all. I lead the centre. He too will give a good account of +himself. When I was his age I already wore the Nishan[16] order on my +breast, and I hope that this time he will not return home without having +at least deserved it." + + [Footnote 16: _Nishan Order._ A Turkish order of merit + for valour, instituted by Selim III. It consisted of a + gold medallion bearing the Sultan's effigy.] + +"But if it comes to a _mêlée_, and he is in danger?" continued Lady +Beldi, with increasing apprehension. + +"Then he will fight as a brave soldier should," returned Kucsuk, +stroking his moustache, which immediately twisted upwards of its own +accord. + +"Ah, no; he is far too tender to sustain a conflict with grown men!" +cried Dame Beldi compassionately. + +"Feriz," cried Kucsuk to his son, "just take down that sabre from the +wall, and show our friends that thou canst wield it like a man." + +The boy sprang up, and, proudly confident in his own strength, chose +from the weapons that hung on the wall not a sabre but a huge +club--seized it by the extreme end of the handle, and swung it with +outstretched arms in every direction with an ease and a dexterity which +would have done honour to any man. His feat was rewarded by enthusiastic +applause. + +"Deuce take it!" cried the astonished Beldi; "that is what I call a good +graft, a Magyar scion on a Turkish stock. You did not carry off his +mother for nothing. Come, Kucsuk--give me that lad!" + +"Be it so! But give me thy daughter." + +"Which? Make your choice." + +"She who sits next to him. When she has grown up they will make a good +pair, and then we shall both have a son and a daughter." + +Beldi laughed heartily, and both the women exchanged a smile. Kucsuk +looked with an air of satisfaction at his son, who took his aigrette +from his turban, tore off the diamond buckle which had pleased Aranka so +much, and handed it to the little girl with lavish gallantry. The child +timidly stretched out her tiny hand towards the costly gift, the +material as well as the moral worth of which she was far from +suspecting, but which nothing in the world would now have made her +relinquish. + +The parents suddenly became silent. Their faces still wore a smile, but +there was a melancholy earnestness in their eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZÖLLÖS. + + +Meanwhile Michael Apafi, comforted by Ali Pasha's assurance that help +was nigh at hand, had thrown himself into Segesvar, and there awaited +the turn of Fortune's wheel. John Kemeny came out against him with a +vast host. He had with him an imposing array of German and Hungarian +troops, but what his army really wanted was an enterprising general. + +Michael Apafi had very little to oppose to such a host--a few hundred +stubborn, undisciplinable Szekler spearmen, a handful of Saxon burghers, +and a bodyguard of blue Janissaries, altogether only about a tenth part +of Kemeny's army. + +Acting therefore on the advice of his brother Stephen, the Prince +resolved to remain strictly on the defensive at Segesvar till +auxiliaries should reach him from his Turkish protector. This resolution +pleased the Saxon burghers immensely, for they were well able to defend +themselves behind the walls of their own city, but never felt quite at +ease in the open field. Upon the Szeklers, however, Apafi's resolution +produced just the contrary effect. + +It was Nalaczi's mission to keep the Szeklers in a martial humour, and +one evening he took them all into the tavern, and filled them with such +ardour that at break of day they marched clamorously beneath the windows +of the Prince, and swore by hook and by crook that they must have one of +the city gates opened for them at once, so that they might fall upon +Kemeny there and then and fight him to the death. + +The Prince and his counsellors went down among them in great alarm, and +tried in every way to make it clear to them that Kemeny's suite alone +was more numerous than all the Szeklers put together; that at least +one-half of his army was armed with muskets, whereas with them scarcely +any one except the Saxon burghers knew even how to use fire-arms; and +that if they rushed out at one door, the enemy would rush in at the +other, and then there would be neither outside nor inside--and much more +to the same effect. + +But whoever fancies he can drive out of a Szekler's head what he has +once got into it is mightily mistaken. + +"Either you must let us march against the foe or home we go!" cried +they. "We don't mean to lie here for the next ten years like the +Trojans, for there's work to be done at home. Apportion, therefore, so +many of the enemy to each one of us; let every man go out and slay his +lot, and then in God's name dismiss us. We won't submit to be blockaded +and rationed on dog and rat-flesh." + +"My good fellows, if you don't like stopping here, go home by all +means," was Apafi's ultimatum; "but to fight a battle in my +circumstances were mere madness." + +The Szeklers did not waste another word; but they seized their wallets, +shouldered their lances, and marched out of Segesvar as if they never +had had anything to do with it. + +From that moment the Szeklers became Apafi's enemies to his dying day. + +Next day Kemeny's host stood beneath the walls of the town where Apafi +now barely had armed men sufficient to guard the gates. + +The siege operations were entrusted to Wenzinger as having had most +experience in warfare. This great general, true to the principles of the +school in which he had been brought up, first of all carefully surveyed +every inch of his ground; then he cautiously occupied every position +which by any possibility might become important, and took care also that +the besieging host should be covered at all points--in short, he so spun +out his preparations by his systematic way of going to work, that by the +time he had really begun to think about the siege, tidings reached him +that the Turkish auxiliaries were advancing by forced marches. Thereupon +(still faithful to his system) he re-concentrated his scattered forces, +and prepared to march against the Turks, the Hungarian gentry being +ready to a man to follow him. But John Kemeny was against a general +advance, holding that if the Turkish contingent was strong enough to put +his forces to flight, he would have Segesvar in his rear, and thus would +be caught between two fires. He therefore preferred to await his +opponent's attack, and retiring in consequence from the town, pitched +his camp at Nagy Szöllös, whence he looked calmly on while Kucsuk +Pasha's horsemen, amid the bray of clarions, made their entry into +Segesvar. + +Apafi had eaten and drunk nothing for three days from sheer anxiety at +the straits into which he had fallen, through no fault of his own, when +word was brought him of the arrival of the auxiliaries. It was late in +the evening when Kucsuk Pasha, after a fatiguing march along +unfrequented mountain paths, entered the town. Apafi rode out to meet +him, and saluted the Turks as his guardian angels. But great indeed was +his astonishment, after mustering the troops twice or thrice, to find +that at the very highest estimate they were only a fifth part of the +forces opposed to him. + +"What does your Excellency mean to do with this little band?" he +uneasily asked the Pasha. + +"God alone knows, who reads the destiny of man in heaven above," +returned Kucsuk with laconic fatalism; and that was all that the Prince +could get out of him. That night the Turks pitched their tents in the +market-place, immediately opposite the dwelling of the Prince. + +Apafi, after so many sleepless nights, could at last enjoy repose. It +did his heart good to hear beneath his windows the snorting of the +war-horses and the sabre-clattering of the sentries, and he gradually +dozed off in the midst of the comforting hubbub, reflecting, that with +such an army he could at least defend himself for some time, and that +meanwhile a great many things might happen. Long before daybreak, +however, he was awakened by the hammering of planks, the usual signal to +the Turkish cavalry to feed their horses. "They feed their horses very +early in the morning," thought the Prince, and he turned over on to the +other side and again fell asleep. While still half-dreaming he fancied +he heard the songs of the dervishes, songs apt to make even the wakeful +feel drowsy. Then a loud and sudden flourish of trumpets once more +aroused his Highness from his slumbers. "Egad! What are they about in +the middle of the night?" cried he peevishly; got up, looked out of the +window, and saw that the Turks were all sitting motionless on their +horses in the dark. Then came a second flourish, and the whole squadron +started off, the clattering of the horses' hoofs on the paving-stones +and the watch-words of the sentinels resounding far and wide through +the silent night. "This Pasha is a very restless man," thought Apafi. +"Even at night, and after so many fatigues, he grudges his men their +proper repose." And with that he again turned in, and fell into a yet +sweeter sleep, from which he only awoke on the following morning. + +The sun stood high in the heavens when Apafi rang for his steward and +factotum, John Cserey. + +The first question he put to him was, "What is the Pasha about?" + +"He quitted the town last night, and sent back a messenger, who has been +waiting outside there ever since dawn to deliver his message." + +"Let him come in at once," cried Apafi, and he began hastily to dress. + +Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, and Daczo entered the Prince's apartments at the +same time as Kucsuk's messenger. They too had been waiting for the last +two hours for the Prince to awake, and were very curious to hear the +Pasha's message. + +"Speak quickly!" cried Apafi to the Turk, who bowed to the ground, +folded his arms across his breast, and said-- + +"Illustrious Prince! my master, Kucsuk Pasha, speaks these words to thee +through the mouth of thy servant: Remain quietly in Segesvar and be of +good cheer. Let the troops that are with thee mount guard upon the +walls. Meantime my master, Kucsuk Pasha, is marching against John +Kemeny, and will fight him wherever he meets him, yea! though he lose +his host to a man, yet will he fight with him to the death." + +The Prince was so confounded by these tidings that he had not a word to +say for himself. Kucsuk's forces were scarcely a fifth part of Kemeny's, +and, moreover, they were still exhausted by their forced marches. To +expect a victory under such circumstances was to look for miracles. + +"Let us make up our minds for the worst and trust in God," said Stephen +Apafi; and, under the circumstances, this was perhaps the most sensible +thing that could have been said. + +So Michael Apafi let things take their own course. If any one had a mind +to guard the walls he was free to do so. So the commanders left the +soldiers to their own devices, and the soldiers did nothing at all. The +fate of the realm lay in God's hands in the fullest sense of the word, +for man had withdrawn his hand from it altogether. One thing, however, +the Prince did. He sent old Cserey up to the top of the church tower +that he might keep a good look-out, and come and tell his master the +moment he saw troops approaching. + + * * * * * + +John Kemeny had established himself at Nagy Szöllös, which is a few +hours' journey from Segesvar. He had fixed his head-quarters at the +parsonage there, and to this day the little room is pointed out in which +he slept for the last time, as well as the round hillock in the garden, +where stood at that time a pretty little wooden summer-house in which +the Prince began the dinner which he never finished. + +The Hungarian gentlemen had a long debate with Wenzinger and the Prince +about the plan of campaign. Some were for taking the town by storm, +others preferred starving it out by a blockade. + +Wenzinger shook his head. + +"Allow me, gentlemen, to express my opinion also," said the experienced +German. "I am an old soldier. I have knocked about in all manner of +campaigns; I know the value of numbers in war, but also the value of +position, and well understand how to weigh the one against the other. I +have learnt by experience that one hundred men under favourable +conditions are often more than a match for a thousand. I also know how +enthusiasm or indifference can multiply or diminish numbers. I can also +calculate the relative importance of the various kinds of arms; nor is +the military value of patriotism an unknown quantity to me. Now we have +ten thousand men, and there are not more than three thousand opposed to +us. But we must not lose sight of the fact, that the greater part of our +Hungarian forces consists of cavalry, and to storm walls with cavalry is +clearly impossible. Scarcely less impossible is it to persuade the +mounted Hungarians to fight on foot. I would further remark, that +although the Hungarian is a veritable hero when he stands face to face +with a foreign foe, nevertheless, whenever I have seen him called upon +to fight against his own countrymen (and often enough have I had that +opportunity) he becomes as slothful and indifferent as if he were only +awaiting the first pretext for taking to his heels. Then, again, we +possess a troop of Servians, whom I consider very good shots, and if we +only had them safely behind the walls of that town we might buckle to it +against a ten-fold superiority; but outside fortifications these people +are scarcely worth anything: they are strong enough to defend, but not +strong enough to storm a bastion. We ought therefore to demolish the +walls as soon as possible: but then, again, we have no cannon, and would +have to send as far as Temesvar for our field-artillery, and while they +were on their way to us along the vile roads--and of course it is a +further question whether the commandant there would send them at all at +our bidding--Ali Pasha would have time to return with fresh troops, and +we should lose all our labour. I consider, therefore, that we ought not +to remain here any longer. We are incapable of conquering that fortress +either by assault or blockade. We cannot, on the other hand, suppose +that the enemy would be insane enough to be lured into the open field. +The most prudent thing, therefore, that we can do under such +circumstances, is to set out for Hungary without delay, collect +reinforcements and artillery, and then endeavour to force the enemy to +an engagement." + +Kemeny, little accustomed to listen to such lengthy discourses, could +scarcely wait till Wenzinger paused, and, as if the whole plan of +campaign deserved not the slightest thought, he now interrupted him with +frivolous impatience. + +"Mr. General, leave all that till the afternoon. After dinner we shall +see everything in quite another light." + +"No, not after dinner," blustered the German. "No time is to be lost. We +are in the midst of war, where every hour is precious; not at a Diet, +where matters may be debated for years together." + +At this sally the Hungarian gentlemen laughed heartily, seized Wenzinger +by the arm, and dragged him off to the banquet, joking all the way. +"There will be lots of time after dinner!" cried they. + +"Well, well," said Wenzinger, half in jest and half in anger; "it is a +fine thing, no doubt, to have soldiers who will do everything but obey +your orders!" + +Not another word did he speak at table, but he drank all the more. + +In the midst of these table-joys, John Uzdi, the commander of the +skirmishers, stepped into the Prince's pavilion with a terrified +countenance, and scarce able to speak for excitement. + +"Your Highness! I see great clouds of dust approaching from the +direction of Segesvar!" + +The Prince turned his head towards the messenger, and said with comic +phlegm-- + +"If it gives you any satisfaction to stare at your clouds of dust, pray +go on looking at them as long as you please!" + +But Wenzinger sprang from his seat. + +"I should like to have a look at them myself," cried he, hastily +ordering his heavy charger to be saddled; "possibly the enemy has come +out to entice us nearer." + +The others did not trouble themselves about the matter, but continued to +make merry. + +In a few minutes, however, back came Wenzinger, unable to conceal the +secret joy which a professional soldier always feels when his plan is +about to succeed. + +"Victory, gentlemen!" cried he. "The enemy is marching against us in +force. If it is not merely a diversion, and he really means business, +the day is ours." + +Some of the gentlemen at once rose from their seats and began buckling +on their swords. The Prince, however, remained sitting. + +"Are they still a good way off?" he indolently inquired of Wenzinger. + +"Scarcely half-an-hour's march!" exclaimed the latter with sparkling +eyes. + +"Then let them come a little nearer still, and in the meantime sit down +by our side." + +"I'll be damned if I do!" cried the general angrily. "As it is, I have +scarcely time enough to marshal my forces." + +"But why marshal them at all? Let them advance upon the enemy _en +masse_, that he may be terrified out of his life at the bare sight of +them." + +"Yes, but I don't want to scare them away, I want rather to surround +them. I shall confront them with one-half the host, the rest I shall +distribute as follows: one division shall creep through the maize-fields +and cut off the enemy's retreat to the town; another shall attack him in +flank from above the mill-dam; a third shall remain behind in reserve. +Your Highness will join the reserve with your Court." + +"What!" cried Kemeny, deeply offended, "I in the reserve! The proper +place for an Hungarian Prince is always the fore-front of the battle!" + +"That was all very well formerly; but in a general engagement, such +precious personages require constant looking after, lest any accident +befall them, and are only in the commander's way, and seriously +interfere with his tactics. If, however, your Highness expressly desires +it, I will surrender my bâton to you at once, and take my place in the +ranks. Here there is only room for one generalissimo!" + +"Keep your place and take what measures you please, but pray let me +choose my own position. That need not interfere with you in the least." + +And Kemeny, with a few other gentlemen, remained at table. + +Wenzinger had scarcely made the necessary preparations when word was +brought to the Prince that the army was in battle array. Then Kemeny +stood up with imperturbable _sangfroid_ and buckled on his sword, but +refused to wear armour. + +"Why should I?" cried he. "Do you suppose that the heart beats more +courageously behind a coat of mail?" + +So they brought him his most stately charger, whose restive head two +stalwart grooms could only hold with difficulty. The coal-black, +fiery-eyed steed plunged and reared; its nostrils snorted steam; white +frothy flakes fell from its mouth all over its breast; its long waving +tail reached almost to the ground. + +Kemeny swung himself into the saddle, drew his sword, and galloped to +the front. Every one was amazed at his skilful horsemanship; he seemed +to have been grafted on to his stallion, so perfectly did all his +movements correspond with its gambols. On reaching the front, the +stately charger fell into a mincing pace, sharply striking the ground +behind it with its prancing hoofs, and nodding its head as if saluting +the host, which broke with one accord into a loud shout of "Eljen!" At +the same instant the Prince's horse stumbled and plunged violently +forward on both knees at once. The silver bit in its mouth snapped in +two, and it was only his extraordinary skill and dexterity which saved +the Prince from flying headlong. + +His suite came hastening to his side. + +"That is a bad omen, your Highness!" stammered Alexius Bethlen. "Your +Highness should mount another horse." + +"'Tis not a bad omen," replied Kemeny, "for my horse has not thrown me." + +"Nevertheless, your Highness, it would be well to change your mount. +That horse is frightened, and will do nothing but rear." + +"I mean to keep my seat, if only to show that omens have neither meaning +nor terror for me," said Kemeny defiantly; and he ordered the broken bit +to be replaced by another. At the same instant Kucsuk Pasha's trumpets +sounded a charge. + + * * * * * + +The Turkish cavalry formed a half-moon with the horns turned outwards. +Kucsuk himself rode in the centre. + +The Pasha on this occasion wore an unusually splendid costume. His +kaftan was of rich-flowered silk wrought with gold; beneath the kaftan +peeped forth a dolman of cloth of gold; a costly oriental shawl +encircled his loins; his scimitar, buckled on behind, sparkled with +gems; a ger-falcon's plume, fastened by a diamond agraffe, waved from +his turban. His charger, a fiery barb with slender head, long, twisted +mane, and black flying tail, threw back its head proudly and shook its +richly-fringed saddle-cloth. A sort of gold netting surrounded its whole +body, from the fringes of which depended numbers of large, jingling, +golden half-moons. + +As soon as Kucsuk Pasha perceived Kemeny's troops, he dismounted, threw +himself with his face to the ground, thrice kissed the earth, thrice +raised himself on his knees, uplifted his face devoutly to heaven, and +called upon the name of Allah. Then he remounted his horse; sent for his +son; tore one of the falcon feathers out of his turban, and sticking it +in the youthful hero's, said--"Go now to the left wing of the host, and +fight as becomes a man of valour! For 'tis better that thou shouldst +fall by the hand of the enemy, and lie dead before me, than that thou +shouldst fly, and this my sword" (here he smote the scimitar by his side +with his fist) "should slay thee!" + +Feriz Beg reverentially bowed his head, kissed the hem of his father's +kaftan, and proudly galloped to the post assigned to him, feeling that +every eye was fixed upon the falcon's feather which his father had +fastened to his turban. + +The Pasha now rode along the ranks and addressed these words to his +cavalry-- + +"My brave fellows! the enemy is before you! I say not whether they be +many or few--you can see for yourselves. They are indeed many times more +numerous than we; but trust in Allah, and fight valiantly! It is more +honourable to die here sword in hand than to fly like cowards. We are in +the midst of Transylvania. He who flies will fall by the sword of the +pursuer ere he reaches the frontier, and he who escapes the pursuer will +fall by the bowstring of the Padishah. We have no other choice but +victory or death!" + +Then he turned to the Wallachs. Them he addressed with harsh and +wrathful words. + +"You dogs, you! I know right well that you are ready to bolt at the +first shot; but know that I have ordered the troops behind you to +instantly cut every one of you down who so much as looks backward." Then +the Pasha, placing himself at the head of his host, waved his naked +sword for the trumpets to blow, and glancing once more along the lines, +saw the Moorish troops who stood behind him, with melon-shaped, +copper-plated helmets, making ready to fire their long muskets. + +"What are you doing?" growled the Pasha. "Away with your muskets! The +enemy has more of them than we. We shall only need our swords. Let every +one charge boldly upon the foe, ducking his head down over his +saddle-bow the moment I give the signal, and then gallop forward without +hesitation!" + +The host did as it was commanded. The Moors slung their funnel-shaped +muskets over their shoulders, drew their broad scimitars, and trotted +forward in the footsteps of the Pasha. + +Kemeny's troops, like a wall of steel confronted them, the musketeers in +the first line, the lanzknechts behind. In the centre stood Wenzinger, +on the right wing John Kemeny. The flanking troops were creeping +stealthily on behind the mill-dam and among the maize-fields in order to +take the foe in the rear. + +When the Turkish army had come within gunshot distance of Kemeny's +forces, Kucsuk Pasha suddenly turned round and glanced fiercely back, +right and left, upon his soldiers, who immediately ducked their heads +over their horses' necks, tightly grasped their swords, used their spurs +freely, and dashed like a whirlwind upon their opponents. + +"Allah! Allah! il-Allah!" thrice sounded from the lips of the charging +Turks, and simultaneously John Kemeny's musketeers gave the attacking +horsemen a point-blank enfilade, which for a moment enveloped their +ranks in smoke. But in those days musketry fire did little harm; it was +far more noisy than dangerous. So now too only a couple of Turks or so +glided out of their saddles, dragging their horses down with them; the +rest galloped forward with a howl of fury. + +Wenzinger, perceiving that his arquebusiers had no time to load again, +immediately ordered his lanzknechts to advance. Now if these troops +could only have kept back the Turkish cavalry till the arquebusiers had +managed to reload, or till the flanking squadrons had come up and fallen +upon the enemy, Kemeny would no doubt have won the battle. But the ranks +of the lanzknechts collapsed at the very first onset, and after (to do +them justice) a really desperate resistance, were mostly cut to pieces, +whereupon the helpless musketeers took to their heels _en masse_, and +threw their whole army into great confusion. + +Wenzinger now tried to restore order by commanding the whole line to +fall back, and had his command been properly obeyed, the engagement +might perhaps have had a different issue. But the cavalry, which the +Prince led in person, obeying his proud counter-orders to remain where +they were, were left fighting single-handed against the divisions +opposed to them, when the rest of the army had already changed its +position. + +The Pasha immediately left off pursuing the panic-stricken musketeers +and fell with all his might upon Kemeny, who, attacked simultaneously in +front and in flank, altogether lost his head; and as there was neither +time nor space for an orderly retreat, wildly cut his way through the +first opening which presented itself, not perceiving in his confusion +that he was riding down his own retreating infantry, for the cavalry, +galloping frantically into the newly-formed ranks, trod their own people +under-foot, frustrated the last hope of forming a reserve, and threw the +whole army into hopeless disorder. The infantry threw down their arms +and fled in all directions before their own and the enemy's cavalry, +which followed, helter-skelter, on each other's heels, trampling to +death all who came in their way. Neither the skill of the general nor +the self-sacrifice of a handful of heroes was able to restore the +battle. The wild flight of one part of the army had demoralized the +other. The battle was irretrievably lost. + +Amidst the general rout the Prince also found himself a fugitive. As he +had stood in the fore-front of the battle during the fight, he naturally +found himself now among the hindmost in the flight, and could scarcely +escape from his pursuers for the press in front. The Turks were +everywhere on the heels of the fugitives, and mercilessly cut down all +whom they could reach. A Turkish youth was following the Prince like his +shadow, and as the boy's steed had very much less to carry, speedily +came up with him. The falcon feather in his turban enables us to +recognize Feriz Beg, Kucsuk Pasha's son. + +The face of the youthful hero glowed with excitement, but the face of +the Prince was dark with rage and shame. He frequently looked behind him +and gnashed his teeth. "To fly perforce before a child! Shame, oh, +shame!" Again and again he tried to stop, but his frenzied steed tore +him along with it. + +Meanwhile the youngster had come near enough to reach him with his +scimitar. At first the Prince disdained to defend himself against his +puny foe; but the latter, becoming more and more audacious in his +attacks, he at last drew his sword and parried his blows. + +"Avaunt, you little bastard!" cried Kemeny, foaming with rage, "for if I +do turn round, I'll deal you a blow that will knock all your baby teeth +down your throat." + +But now a bound of his horse brought Feriz alongside of the Prince, and +regarding Kemeny with flashing eyes, he aimed a blow at his neck with +his supple Damascus blade; while Kemeny, with a lowering countenance, +seized his sword with both hands, and dealt a tremendous backward blow +with all his might which was meant to cut his presumptuous young +assailant in two. It was as though a young eagle had brought a flying +panther to bay, and forced him to a life-and-death struggle. At the +moment when both swords sped hissing through the air, Kemeny's horse +again stumbled and fell forward with a broken foot, causing Kemeny's +blow to fall wide, and strike not Feriz but Feriz' horse's head, which +it clove in twain, while Feriz' blow flashed down upon the Prince's +forehead. + +The Prince as he sank from his horse looked darkly up into the face of +his youthful opponent. The blood flowed in streams from his frowning +forehead. Once more he gave his horse the spur, but the maimed beast +only reared on its hind legs, fell over with its sinking rider, and both +were instantly trampled under-foot by the enemy's cavalry. + +In the wild rout no one noticed the spot where the Prince had fallen. It +was only after many days that his torn and tattered mantle and his +broken sword were offered for sale in the market-place of Segesvar by +Turkish hucksters, purchased by Michael Apafi, now sole Prince of +Transylvania, and subsequently preserved in his museum at Fogaros. Apafi +also ordered search to be made on the battle-field for the corpse of +the fallen Prince in order to give it decent and honourable burial, but +no one could recognize his body among the naked and mutilated slain. + + * * * * * + +The battle won, Kucsuk by a flourish of trumpets recalled his squadrons +from pursuing the beaten foe. The Turkish horsemen came galloping back +at once, quite contrary to the usual practice of Turkish armies, which +are generally as much demoralized after a victory as the vanquished +themselves. Kucsuk had inured them to the strictest discipline. + +Back they came, black with smoke and red with blood, but the bloodiest +of all was Feriz Beg. His mantle was riddled with bullets, and the horse +he rode was the third that he had mounted since the action began, two +had already been killed under him. + +Kucsuk, without a word, embraced his son, kissed him on the forehead, +fastened his own Nishan Order on his breast, and exchanged swords with +him, then the highest conceivable distinction. + +Ferhad Aga, the leader of the right wing, was brought dead, on a litter +of lances, before the general. His body bore wounds of every shape and +size; he was literally covered with gunshot wounds, sabre-cuts, and +lance-thrusts. + +Kucsuk sprang from his horse, bent weeping over the corpse, covered it +with kisses, and swore by Allah that he would not have given this man's +life for the whole of Transylvania. + +Nor would he enter the town till Ferhad had been buried. The dervishes +immediately surrounded the dead man, washed him, wrapped him in fragrant +linen, and the Pasha himself sought out for him a sunny spot in the +midst of a little grove. There they buried him with his face turned +towards the east, and with a pennant fluttering on a lance's head over +his grassy grave. And for three days sentinels watched over him, to +prevent the accursed Jins from mutilating the corpse of the dead hero. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE PRINCESS. + + +After the fatal day of Nagy Szöllös, the faithful followers of John +Kemeny fled to Hungary, and transferred their allegiance to Simon +Kemeny, the son of the fallen Prince. But a sinking cause has few +friends, and while the younger Kemeny's party rapidly diminished, +Apafi's as rapidly increased. His victory had assured his position, and +won for him all the great men of the land--the governors of the towns, +the magnates, the commandants of the fortresses--in short, it was a race +who should do him homage first, all the Estates of the Realm recognized +him as Prince. + +Only a few fortresses, where Kemeny had placed German garrisons, still +held out, Klausenburg among the number. + +Kucsuk Pasha, whose army meanwhile had been reinforced, brought Apafi +beneath the walls of that city, and pitched his tent at Hidelve over +against the old town, then a mere heap of straw huts, and there the new +Prince held his first reception. + +The morning had scarcely dawned when Apafi's tent was besieged by a host +of visitors, petitioners, and liegemen. The Prince, enchanted at the +delightful novelty of a position which enabled him to gratify +everybody's desires, could not find it in his heart to say no to +anybody. Nalaczi and Daczo were there before he had finished putting on +his boots, and introduced a whole mob of persons anxious to pay their +respects, who were waiting with smiling faces at the tent door. Apafi +made haste with his toilet in order that none should be kept waiting. He +was anxious to oblige every one. + +Amongst the first who elbowed their way in was Count Ladislaus Csaky. +He came to offer his son as a page to the Prince, the self-same son who +had filled and refilled John Kemeny's glass a few weeks before. Apafi +could scarcely find words to express his gratitude for such an offer. + +Next came Master Gabriel Haller, who seemed as if he would really never +leave off bowing and scraping, and addressed an eloquent oration to +Apafi, every tenth word of which was a title of honour. Apafi could +scarcely conceal his childish joy at being called your Highness, and +invited Master Gabriel Haller to dinner straight off. + +A daïs was then placed in the back part of the tent, which the modest +Prince absolutely refused to mount, till his brother Stephen used gentle +violence, and even then he insisted on rising to receive every suitor, +and accompanied him to the door at the end of each audience. + +Petitioners, homagers, and visitors of every description kept coming and +going one by one. + +By Apafi's side stood Nalaczi, Daczo, Stephen Apafi, and John Cserey, +whom his Highness urged repeatedly to be seated. + +After receiving the oaths of allegiance, on which occasion the +commandants of the fortresses placed the keys of their strongholds in +the Prince's hands, it was the turn of the petitioners to be introduced. + +First came Master Martin Pok, the jailer of Fogaros, with the humble +petition that he might be appointed the governor of that fortress, +inasmuch as the former governor had fled to Simon Kemeny. + +Apafi promised to bear him in mind. + +Next came Master John Szasy, the chief magistrate of Hermannstadt, +complaining, with tears in his eyes, that his fellow-citizens were +persecuting him, and throwing himself on the Prince's protection. + +Apafi at once took him under his wing. + +Then followed Master Moses Zagoni, who begged the Prince to let him off +a certain balance in his accounts which had been outstanding from +Kemeny's time. + +Him too Apafi sent away comforted. + +Last of all came a thick-set, sturdy Szekler, in a short sheep-skin +jacket, who called himself the representative of Olahfalva; did homage +to Apafi in the name of his district, and preferred two very peculiar +petitions, to wit: that from henceforth Olahfalva should be declared to +be only _two_ miles from Klausenburg (the real distance between the two +places is, as we all know, more than twenty); and secondly, that it +should be legally enacted that he who had no horse should go on foot. + +The Prince laughingly complied with both of these extraordinarily +ludicrous requests, which put him into such a good humour that an +itinerant scholar, Clement by name, a crooked-nosed, long-legged +individual, wrapped from head to foot in a fox-skin mantle, made bold to +approach Apafi, and present him on his knees with a huge parchment roll +which he had been holding in his hand for some time, and which the +Prince, not without extraneous help, now took and unfolded. Inside it he +read the whole genealogical record of the Apafis, painted on a +green-leaved family-tree, whereby his family was brought into connection +with the illustrious Bethlen and Bathory families; traced back to King +Samuel Aba, from him again to Huba, one of the seven original leaders of +the Magyars, and thence ascending still further, first to Attila's +youngest son Csaka, and from him in the female line to the daughter of +the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus, but in the male line to Nimrod, +the first recorded earthly king. + +This fulsome piece of flattery seemed to somewhat annoy Apafi; but as he +could not quite make up his mind to kick the impertinent poet out of the +tent, he resolved to be quit of him with a handful of ducats, and placed +the genealogical tree behind him by way of a prop. + +Nevertheless the Prince's good-humour was not in the least disturbed. He +seemed to feel it his bounden duty to treat every one who approached him +with peculiar graciousness and condescension, and after listening +patiently to the last of his many petitioners, he turned to Messrs. +Nalaczi and Daczo, who stood by his side, and said-- + +"Is there absolutely nothing I can do for you? How shall I requite the +fidelity with which you have stood by me from the very first?" + +Nalaczi and Daczo had long been racking their brains as to what _they_ +should ask of the Prince. Their chief anxiety was lest they should ask +too little. + +"I leave the reward of my poor services to the benevolence of your +Highness," said Nalaczi: but he thought within himself that the Szeklers +needed another Captain-General in the place of Beldi. + +"The little I have been fortunate enough to do for your Highness is, in +my opinion, not even worth mentioning," declared Daczo; but it did +occur to him at the same time that the post of Governor of Klausenburg, +vacant by the flight of Banfi, was just the very thing for him. + +Apafi looked at them benignly, and no doubt would have created both +these worthy but not particularly capable gentlemen privy-counsellors at +the very least, when, unfortunately for them, a hubbub outside here +interrupted the conversation, and the body-guards, drawing aside the +curtains of the tent, admitted Kucsuk Pasha. + +The Prince sprang from his seat at once, and would have gone to meet +him, had not Stephen Apafi pulled him by the mantle and whispered in his +ear-- + +"Keep up your dignity in the presence of the Turk. He is only a +subaltern Pasha, while you are the sovereign Prince of Transylvania." + +Despite this admonition Apafi did not feel quite at his ease till Kucsuk +had beckoned to him to be seated, and although the Turk remained +standing in the presence of the Prince, there was this difference +between them, that whereas Apafi's face expressed nothing but affability +and condescension, Kucsuk's was all haughtiness and dignity. + +"How can I show my gratitude for the labours and perils you have +undergone on my behalf?" asked Apafi with genuine enthusiasm. + +"Not to me but to my imperial master are thy thanks due," replied Kucsuk +dryly. "I did but do his will when I set thee on the throne of +Transylvania. With God's help I have scattered thy enemies, only a +fortress here and there still holds out. I shall have done my whole duty +when I have captured them; the rest lies with thee. To-morrow I shall +besiege Klausenburg, and, cost what it may, I shall not rest till the +town is taken. When that has fallen the others will follow of their own +accord." + +"Should I not also call out the provincial banderia[17]?" inquired +Apafi. + + [Footnote 17: _Banderia._ The mounted gentry of the + county.] + +"I need them not," replied Kucsuk; "let them remain at home and look +after their own affairs. My own troops will do everything." + +Apafi was about to thank the Pasha for his magnanimity, when suddenly he +became aware that every one was looking towards one of the +side-entrances of the tent, through which some one had just entered +without being announced. + +The Prince also looked round in the same direction, and what he then saw +before him made him forget instantly Transylvania, Kucsuk Pasha, +Klausenburg, and everything else, for before him stood his beautiful and +majestic consort, Anna Bornemissa. + +It was indeed a queenly apparition. + +That commanding countenance, which seemed to exact homage, how affably +yet how proudly it could glance around! In her dress there was no trace +of pomp; but was there any need of gems where such speaking eyes flashed +and sparkled? Did that royal form require velvet or ermine to lend it +majesty? + +It was the first time that Apafi had seen her since his departure. She +had risen from her child-bed twice as lovely as before. Renewed +happiness and comfort had invested her features with a sort of +transparent brightness. Her eyes, dimmed no longer by tears of sorrow, +flashed with a purer radiance than before. Her lips, which had long +known nought but joy, smiled still more sweetly. Her figure had gained +in fullness and roundness without losing in symmetry, and the confident, +self-conscious dignity visible in all her features and all her movements +well became her majestic form. + +Apafi, forgetting all dignity and decorum when he saw his consort, +sprang from his seat, rushed towards her, seized her hand, drew the +enchanting lady to his breast, just as he used to do when he was a +simple squire, and kissed her mouth and cheeks so heartily that the +assembled Estates of the Realm had auricular demonstration of the fact. + +Anna nestled closely to her husband's breast, and her lips tenderly +returned his salutations; but her large, earnest eyes seemed to be +scrutinizing over her husband's shoulder the faces of all who were +present, and her gaze rested for an instant on each one of them. + +These connubial caresses seemed likely to have no end so far as Apafi +was concerned--his wife was worth more to him than all Transylvania with +the appurtenances thereof--till Anna disengaged herself from his arms +with a smile, and said merrily-- + +"You lavish the outpourings of your heart on me alone, but there is some +one else here who claims his share too;" and with that she beckoned to +Dame Sarah, who had followed her mistress into the tent with a beaming +countenance, and now unwrapped before Apafi's eyes a pretty sleeping +babe, whom the good nurse had been dangling about in a piece of silken +tapestry. + +Beside himself for joy, Apafi took the child in his arms and kissed its +little round cherub face again and again. The child awaking, allowed +itself to be kissed and hugged without uttering a cry, and snatched with +its plump little be-ribboned arms at papa's beard, which naturally gave +papa indescribable delight. + +The gentlemen standing around considered it their bounden duty to +congratulate the Prince on his parental felicity, who, drunk with joy, +exhibited his son to them and said-- + +"Look how serious he is. He doesn't even cry. What a perfect little man +it is!" + +Meanwhile Anna beckoned to Stephen Apafi, and whispered to him-- + +"I am sure the gentlemen will not take it ill if the Prince's family +concerns and joys withdraw him for a few moments from public affairs." + +"Your Highness has taken the words out of my mouth," replied Stephen. "I +was just about to say the same thing to the gentlemen myself;" and +turning towards the courtiers, he begged them to leave the Prince for a +few moments in the bosom of his family, and meanwhile withdraw into the +antechamber. + +The gentlemen considered the request only natural, and at once retired, +obsequiously giving precedence as they went to Kucsuk Pasha. + +No sooner did Anna find herself alone with her consort, than she took +the child from his arms, gave it back to Sarah, and sent them both away. +Apafi now approached her with fresh demonstrations of tenderness, but +she took him by the hand, gazed earnestly into his eyes, and said-- + +"It is to the Prince of Transylvania that I have come!" + +Apafi was somewhat chilled by her steady look; but she, perceiving it, +nestled closely up to him again, and said kindly-- + +"I was beginning to suspect that the Prince might have more need of me +than the husband." Then she added with a smile full of irresistible +grace--"I hope you will not misconstrue my good intentions." + +Apafi embraced his wife, and made her sit down by his side. The chair of +state was large enough to accommodate them both. It is true that the +pretty wife had to sit half upon her husband's knee, but that certainly +did not inconvenience either of them. + +"You are right," said Apafi; "it is well that you are here. When I don't +see you I always feel that I lack something. At any rate you deserve to +be nearest to my heart, and I'll venture to set your judgment against +the judgment of any of the gentlemen surrounding me." + +"Who are all these gentlemen?" asked Anna. + +"You must know them all by name. The lanky man is Ladislaus Csaky, who +offers me his son as a page." + +"He loses no time about it! A very little while ago the lad was John +Kemeny's page." + +Apafi began to look glum. + +"The man with the large moustaches is Gabriel Haller." + +Anna smote her hands together in amazement. + +"What! he here too?" + +"What have you to find fault with in him?" + +"I'll tell you. He has always been the spy of your enemies. He brought +Kemeny the first tidings of your installation, and of Kucsuk Pasha's +arrival at Segesvar." + +Apafi's features grew still darker. + +"And I have invited the gentleman to dinner!" he murmured between his +teeth. + +"And why are Messrs. Nalaczi and Daczo so familiar with you? Do they +want anything?" + +"They are my faithful followers, who have stood by my side from the very +first." + +"But pray don't on that account make them the highest personages in the +land. Simple, ignorant men in responsible positions are far more +dangerous to a state than open but enlightened foes. Reward them by all +means, but only in proportion to their abilities." + +"I'll do so," replied the harassed Prince; and during the remainder of +the interview he tried hard to uphold his conjugal supremacy, but Anna +would not let the subject drop. + +"And Master John Szasy, what does he do here? for I saw him too." + +"The poor fellow is persecuted," returned Apafi, who began to find the +joke a little tiresome. + +"Evil rumours are abroad about that man. People say of him--and they say +it pretty loudly--that he has young Saxon girls abducted for him, and +after sacrificing them to his brutal lusts, removes them out of the way +by poison. The parents of the girls have indicted this man, and he +fancies he will escape exposure by fawning upon you." + +Apafi sprang wrathfully from his seat. + +"If that be so, I will show Master Szasy the door; he shall find no +shelter beneath my mantle." + +"And what brought that honest, tattered Szekler hither?" asked Anna, who +had evidently made up her mind to know everything. "I like not his +crafty face at all. The Szekler is always most dangerous when he puts on +the garb of simplicity." + +The Prince was suddenly seized with a paroxysm of mirth, he could +scarcely speak for laughing. + +"That was the representative of Olahfalva," said he. + +At the mention of this place even Anna could not forbear from smiling. + +"The good folks of Olahfalva," continued Apafi, still laughing, "who +carry people to church in sheets and beat watches to death!" + +"I fear me the poor people are very much maligned. They are called +simple, but methinks their ways are altogether crooked and crafty." + +"But is it not true then that they carry ladders horizontally through +the woods?" + +"Yes; but why? You shall hear. Their Captain-General had forbidden them +to waste the woods, but at the same time sent them out to pull down +crows' nests; so to get at the nests they carried the ladders +horizontally through the woods to have an excuse for hewing down every +tree that stood in their way." + +"Well explained! But at least you will not deny that in hilly districts +they never plough to the end of their fields for fear that if they go +right to the margin the earth will tilt over with them." + +"They do that because the margin is of a rocky consistency which no +ploughshare will penetrate." + +"Then what do you say of their custom of choosing to represent them at +the Diet those amongst them upon whom their obsolete, short skin-jackets +sit the best? I'll swear I saw the self-same jacket now worn by the +Olahfalva deputy at the Diet of Klausenburg twelve years ago, only then +it was on some one else's shoulders." + +"The good folks think," returned the Princess, "that a deputy to the +Diet need say little or nothing, but that the coat in which he has to +sit for hours ought to be as comfortable as possible." + +"You seem to know the reason of everything. But, come now! explain, if +you can, the signification of the promises which this Szekler has got +out of me. He petitioned for two things: first, that the distance +between Olahfalva and Klausenburg should henceforth be declared to be +only two miles." + +"Oh! _sancta simplicitas_!" cried Anna. "They have a charter which +permits them to offer their timber for sale at any place within two +miles of their district; they are consequently anxious to have the +Klausenburg market thrown open to them." + +"I really believe you are right," returned Apafi, in a tone of +conviction. "I now begin to suspect their second petition, although it +seems to me to have no special connection with their community. They +desire it to be legally enacted that he who has no horse shall +henceforth be obliged to go on foot." + +"I have it!" cried Anna, after a moment's reflection. "Olahfalva has +recently been made a post station, and the couriers passing through the +place have therefore the right to demand fresh horses there. Now the +good people begin to find this new obligation onerous, and therefore +want a law passed to compel the couriers to make their pilgrimages +through Olahfalva on foot." + +Apafi stamped angrily on the ground. + +"The impudent rascal! To presume to jest with me in such a way! Well, +you shall see how I'll make them grin on the other side of their faces. +But is it not about time to re-admit the gentlemen?" + +"One word more, Apafi," said Anna gently, placing her velvety arms on +her husband's shoulder. "I observed Kucsuk Pasha among your liegemen; I +presume he came to take his leave?" + +Apafi threw back his head much perplexed. + +"Not at all! Don't you know that we are here to capture Klausenburg? It +is Kucsuk's business to take it." + +"Michael!" cried the Princess, in a tone of tearful supplication. "Do +you mean to say that you will suffer a Turkish garrison in Klausenburg? +Do you forget that the Osmanlis are always loth to relinquish any +Hungarian stronghold that they once get possession of? Do you not +recollect that Klausenburg is the capital of your realm, and those who +dwell within its walls are your own people, your own compatriots, your +own co-religionists? And you would expose them to the horrors of an +assault? The Turks may be your allies, but after all they are heathens +and aliens, whom you should not allow to play havoc with your people. +Did not your heart sink within you when you saw the walls of +Klausenburg? Could you behold those towers, those houses, without +reflecting that there are the homes of your fellow-countrymen and the +churches of your God, into which the besiegers would hurl their +firebrands? Could you look at those ramparts without perceiving crowds +of mothers holding their babes in their arms, and declaring to you that +your own people--an innocent, loyal, honest people--dwell therein? And +you would hold your triumphal entry into the capital of your country +over the mutilated bodies of these women and children?" + +Apafi rose from his seat. His forehead was bathed with sweat. +Involuntary remorse was legible on his troubled countenance. + +"No, Anna; I don't wish it. How can you think me so heartless? What! I, +who could never endure the tears of a single woman, should remain deaf +to the lamentations of a whole nation? But what am I to do? I meant to +have called out the banderia to invest the town, and so compel the +garrison to surrender; but how shall I set about it with Kucsuk Pasha in +the way? He is determined to storm the town, I know not how to prevent +him." + +"Be easy on that score. The commanders of the Turkish troops in +Transylvania have received firmans[18] ordering them to instantly rejoin +the army of the Grand Vizier at Érsekújvár. Kucsuk too has doubtless +received such a firman." + + [Footnote 18: _Firman._ A decree issued by the Sultan + and proclaimed by the Grand Vizier.] + +"I was not aware of it. That is why he wants to press on the assault, I +suppose?" + +"A similar mandate is already on its way to you from the Divan,[19] and +by pretending that this mandate has already reached you, it will be easy +to induce the Pasha in a friendly way to raise the siege of +Klausenburg." + + [Footnote 19: _Divan._ The Sultan's council.] + +"I will try, Anna; I will try!" cried Apafi, walking up and down the +tent. "I owe it to my people, and I would rather turn my back upon these +walls than force my way through them with fire and sword." + +"But you must not turn your back upon them," replied the discreet lady; +"there are ways and means of getting possession of the fortress without +having recourse to fire and sword." + +Apafi stood still and looked inquiringly at his wife. She drew him +closer to her and whispered in his ear-- + +"Before coming to Klausenburg, I secretly instructed the well-disposed +within the town to try and bring the garrison over to our side. This +morning our spies have brought us word that the infantry is ready, at +the first sound of the trumpet from without, to open the gates and go +over to us with bag and baggage. The cavalry by itself will be unable to +offer any resistance." + +"My dear!" cried Apafi in astonishment, "you are really a born +princess." + +Anna took her husband softly by the arm, led him to the daïs, and made +him sit down. + +"The sceptre is no plaything, Apafi," said she earnestly. "Never forget +that posterity will sit in judgment on princes. A ruler's every act and +word may mean the ruin or the salvation of thousands. Think of that in +all you do and say. And now, God be with you. Be firm!" + +Anna, with an exalted look, kissed the Prince on the forehead. At that +very moment her eye fell on the parchment roll of the itinerant scholar. + +"What plan of campaign is this?" cried she, taking up the parchment. + +Apafi would have snatched it from her, but it was too late; Anna had +already unrolled it, and after casting a rapid glance over the +lickspittling pedigree, looked with an expression of overwhelming +reproach at the discomfited Prince, who stood before her with downcast +eyes. + +"Did _you_ get any one to compose it?" she softly asked. + +"Certainly not," replied Apafi energetically; "a shameless poet brought +it to me." + +"Then throw it into the fire," replied his wife, much relieved. + +"That is just what I was going to do. I can then get rid of him with a +few ducats." + +"A few strokes with a whip would be much more appropriate," exclaimed +Anna wrathfully; but soon her features grew mild again, and steadfastly +regarding her husband she said to him kindly--"Be strong! Be a prince! +Protect the loyal! Forgive the repentant! Despise flatterers!" + +With that she curtseyed low, kissed her husband's hand, and had vanished +from the tent before he could return the salute. + +Apafi immediately called Cserey and commanded him to re-admit the +gentlemen, who were still waiting in the ante-chamber. + +On the countenances of the courtiers could be read, as plainly as if it +were written there, the persuasion that they might now ask for and +expect from the Prince anything they liked, on the presumption that the +blissful antecedent domestic scene had left him in a state of mental +flabbiness which could say no to nobody. Stephen Apafi was alone +sufficiently sober-minded to perceive the change which had come over his +brother's face in the meantime. Apafi's features now wore an expression +of dignity, firmness, and energy worthy of a prince. + +"My loyal friends," he cried, in a hard, firm voice, without waiting for +any one to address him. "As concerning the petitions preferred to us, we +would dismiss you with fit and proper answers. We accept your homage +with all due appreciation, and trust you will ever persevere in your +loyalty. You, Ladislaus Csaky, we permit to return home. We will no +longer deprive you of your family joys. As for your son, we will have +him educated abroad at our own cost, till he be suitable for our +service." + +Count Ladislaus Csaky, with a very wry face indeed, expressed his +gratitude for the Prince's gracious permission to return home, although +he would willingly have remained at Court all his life with the whole of +his family. + +Gabriel Haller the Prince passed over altogether, as if he absolutely +did not see him, but he turned pointedly towards Nalaczi and Daczo, who +made desperate efforts to appear meek and humble. + +"Having regard to the zeal and affection which our faithful Stephen +Nalaczi has always testified for our person, we appoint him herewith +first gentleman-in-waiting at our Court. And you, John Daczo, we appoint +commander of Csikszerda." + +Both gentlemen made the grimace usual in suitors who have expected much +and got little. Nalaczi smiled, but within he was all wormwood and gall. +Daczo tried to look contented, but he coloured up to the ears. They were +scarcely able to thank the Prince for his goodness. + +Meanwhile Master Pok, in order not to be left altogether out of sight, +had elbowed his way to the front, completely covering honest Cserey, who +modestly made way for him. + +Apafi beckoned to him, however. + +"Why do you keep so much in the background?" said he. + +Master Pok, under the impression that the hint was meant for him, drew +still nearer. + +"'Tis Master Cserey whom we address," continued the Prince, "or do you +think that we are unable to distinguish our faithful from our feigning +followers? Your fidelity and prudence, Master Cserey, are well known to +us, wherefore we appoint you forthwith governor of our fortress of +Fogaros." + +In his consternation Master Pok looked up at the ceiling as if he +expected it to fall on his head. + +"Master Martin Pok, on the other hand," pursued the Prince, "we confirm +in his former post. He will continue to be jailer at the same fortress." + +Master Martin Pok sobbed aloud. Cserey was about to raise objections, +but the Prince beckoned him to be silent. + +Next came Master John Szasy's turn. + +"You are accused of grievous crimes, from which we have neither the will +nor the power to absolve you. You will therefore be conveyed to +Hermannstadt with a strong escort, there to clear yourself as best you +can." + +John Szasy, with a stupefied air, looked first to the right and then to +the left. He could not understand it at all. + +"You, Master Moses Zagoni, we command to present your accounts for +examination to our officers of the Exchequer thereunto appointed." + +To hide his own confusion, Zagoni thought he could not do better than +whisper consolation to Szasy. + +The deputy of Olahfalva had now to take his turn. It was indeed high +time that something amusing should happen, for while the Prince had thus +been distributing rewards and punishments, the smile had gradually +vanished from every face; nothing short of the discomfiture of the +quaint and crafty boor could now restore the general hilarity. + +"What I promised you," said the Prince, scarcely able to repress his +inward merriment, "is yours. If it give you any satisfaction, you may +henceforth regard Olahfalva as only two miles distant from Klausenburg +instead of twenty; let him also who has no horse go on foot as you +desire. But we grant this with the express reservation that you are not +to take any timber to the market of Klausenburg, and that you always +give the couriers the necessary relays of horses." + +The Szekler grinned, shook his head, and then looked very hard at the +Prince, as if to find out how Apafi could possibly have got to the +bottom of his artifice. + +The wondering, puzzled face of the Olahfalvian was too much for Apafi's +gravity, and he burst into a loud guffaw, in which everybody present +joined him. The Szekler, whose face had hitherto worn a bewildered +smile, suddenly became quite serious, threw back his head defiantly, +cast a furious look around, half stripped off his short jacket, and +exclaimed-- + +"Harkye, gentlemen! If the Prince chooses to make merry with me, I +suffer it; but I'll trouble you all not to laugh so at my expense." + +The Prince beckoned to them to be silent, and diverted their attention +by calling forward the itinerant scholar Clement, who shambled up on his +long, lean legs, as if he were every moment about to fall on his knees. + +"We have commanded our treasurer," said the Prince, "to pay to you out +of our privy purse three _marias_[20] for the work which you have handed +to us." + + [Footnote 20: _Maria._ An old Hungarian coin worth + about thirty-five kreutzers.] + +"Your Highness was pleased to observe--" stammered the confounded poet. + +"You heard very well. I said three _marias_. That is about the value of +the writing materials which you have wasted upon this pedigree. Another +time employ your leisure more profitably." + +The Prince then signified that the audience was at an end. + +The gentlemen quitted the tent with many a deep obeisance. Kucsuk Pasha +alone remained behind. + +During the whole of this scene the Pasha had been shaking his head, as +if he had not expected all this from Apafi. He could not help remarking +too that Apafi now needed no one to remind him how to preserve his +princely dignity in the presence of others. Apafi wore an affable air; +but it was the affability of princely condescension. + +"We have learnt with regret," he began, turning towards the Pasha, "that +we must shortly lose you, whose valour we so much admire, whose +friendship we so much esteem." + +The Pasha looked up with astonishment. + +"What means your Highness?" + +"In consequence of a firman commanding the Transylvanian generals to +assemble in the camp of the Grand Vizier. We shall, alas! only see you +in our circle for a very short time." + +Kucsuk angrily bit his lips. + +"How could he have learnt that already?" he muttered. + +"We would willingly retain you, for your person is most dear to us; but +we know that the commands of the Padishah require instant submission. +Moreover, lest your devotion to us should draw down upon you the +displeasure of the Sublime Porte, we have taken such measures as will +bring the fortress of Klausenburg to capitulate without having resort to +an assault, thus releasing you from the troublesome obligation of +keeping your army here any longer. As to the confirmation of our +princely dignity, we will take care to settle all that with the Grand +Vizier, presumably at Érsekújvár, whither we also are summoned." + +During this speech, Kucsuk had regarded the Prince fixedly and with +folded arms. Even when Apafi had finished speaking, he remained standing +in the same position without uttering a word. + +Apafi calmly continued-- + +"In order however to express our personal gratitude, however feebly, for +your services, we would have you accept from us this little gift more as +a token of our respect than as a reward." And with that the Prince took +from his neck a gold chain set with large brilliants, and hung it round +the Pasha's neck. + +Kucsuk still remained immovable. He searchingly scrutinized the Prince, +and wrinkled his brows. Then, all at once, he began to smile, and +shaking his head said slyly-- + +"It is well, Apafi, it is all excellently well. But I see that thou art +wont to commit thy understanding to the custody of thy wife. _Salem +aleikum!_ Peace be with thee!" + +And off went the Pasha, shaking his head all the way. + +But Apafi, with a lightened heart, hastened back to his wife. + +Master Gabriel Haller waited a very long time at the door of the tent, +till one of the bodyguards came out to inform him that the Prince would +dine that day in his family circle. + +Then he too shook his head and departed. + + * * * * * + +A couple of days later, with drums beating and banners waving, Prince +Michael Apafi made his triumphal entry into Klausenburg. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE PERI. + + +Once more we are in Hungary, among the Homolka Mountains, in one of +those parts of the land which no one has ever thought of colonizing. For +fifty miles round there is not a village to be seen; not a single +passable road traverses the whole mountain range. The very footpaths +break abruptly off amongst the rocky labyrinths, terminating either in a +leaf-covered waterfall, or at the forsaken hut of a charcoal-burner, the +carbonized, sooty environment of which suffers nothing green to grow. + +The very skirts of this wilderness are uninhabited. One can wander for +hours among the oaks and beeches, towering up one above the other, +without hearing any other sound but one's own footsteps; not a blade of +grass, not a flower, not a shrub can thrive anywhere here. Beneath the +uncleared trees rustle the fallen yellow leaves, peeping up from the +midst of which we perceive the speckled caps of oddly-shaped fungi +clinging in clusters to the mossy tree stems. + +Only where the stream dashes down from the mountains, forcing its way +through the valley, does the greensward appear. There, among the +luxuriant grasses, lie the fearless stags; wild bees build their +basket-shaped nests in the hollow trees on the margin of the stream, and +sweep buzzing round the Alpine flowers which dance on the surface of the +water. + +That stream is the Rima. + +In the dim, dismal distance still higher mountains appear, from which +the stream plunges down in a snow-white torrent. The morning mists +exaggerate the magic remoteness of the scene, and when at last you have +reached the extremest point of that remoteness, it is only to see before +you a still more awful expanse, still more desolate mountain ranges, +forming as it were an immense and uninterrupted ladder up to heaven. + +The Rima burrows in every direction among these primeval mountains. She +alone is bold enough to force her way through this wild rocky labyrinth. +Sometimes she plunges down from the granite terraces with a +far-resounding din, dissolving into a white, cloudy spray, in which the +sunbeams paint an eternal rainbow, which spans the velvet-green margins +of the abyss like a fairy bridge. A moss-clad rock projects from the +midst of the waterfall, dividing it into two, and from the moss-clad +rock wild roses look over into the dizzying, tumbling rapids below. Far +away down, the vagrant stream is hemmed in between basalt rocks; the +twofold echo changes its monotonous, muffled roar into melancholy music; +its transparent, crystal waters appear black from the colour of their +stony bed, wherein rosy trout and sprightly water-snakes, like silver +ribbons, disport themselves; then, escaping from its brief constraint, +it dashes onwards from crag to crag, angrily scourging a huge mass of +rock which once, in flood-time, it swept into its bed from a distance of +many miles, and which, after the next thaw or rainfall, it will hurl a +thousand fathoms deeper into the rock-environed valley. + +Higher and higher we mount. The oaks and beeches fall behind us; the +pines and firs begin. The horizon opens out ever wider and wider. The +transparent mists which have hitherto veiled the heights are left behind +in the depths. The little green patches of valley are scarcely visible +through the opal atmosphere, and the hilly woodlands have dwindled into +dark specks; only their outlines, gold and lilac in the rays of the +rising sun, are still distinguishable. + +And before us the mountains still rise higher and higher. One feels +tempted to scale these fresh giants also, in order to find out whether +there is really any end to them. Now too even the Rima has forsaken us. +Deep down below, we perceive a round, dark-blue lakelet, enclosed on all +sides by steep rocks, on the mirror-like surface of which white swans +are bathing beneath the shadows of the pines dependent over the water's +edge. In the midst of this lakelet, the source of the Rima tosses and +tumbles, casting its bubbling crystal fathoms high, and keeping the +lakelet in perpetual ebullition, as if some spirit were trying to raise +up the whole lake with his head. + +And yet another mountain range starts up before our eyes, covered with +thick fir-woods, though nothing else will grow on the steep ridge, which +is covered along its whole length by masses of rock piled one on the top +of the other. Nowhere does a single green speck meet the eye. + +Having scaled these heights also, we naturally fancy that at last we +have reached the highest point, when suddenly, high above the dark fir +forests, a white giant emerges, and before the eyes of the wearied +mountaineer rise the lofty distant peaks of the Silver Alps, +representing the unattainable with their towering, snowy pyramids. + +Here we pause. + +All along the mountain ridge, standing out the more distinctly for the +great distance, meanders a footpath, disappearing among the pine forests +at one point and re-emerging at another, thereby showing that some one +must dwell here in the wilderness, a circumstance the more startling as, +up to this point, the region has seemed altogether uninhabited, while +beyond it shimmer the still more inhospitable snowy mountains. + +From the top of this peak one sees hundreds and hundreds of mountains +and valleys exactly resembling one another. The eye grows weary of +regarding them, and so long as the sun's rays strike obliquely over the +region, suffusing it with a golden mist, one can barely distinguish the +separate parts of the oppressively sublime panorama. + +Gradually, however, our attention is attracted towards a deep, rocky +gorge, surrounded by greyish-blue mountains, which seem likely at any +moment to topple over. In the midst of this gorge an enormous and +completely isolated rocky pillar stands upright, looking for all the +world as if it had just fallen from the skies. A careless glance might +easily pass over this rocky mass without seeing anything remarkable +about it; but a more attentive observer would discover a narrow wooden +bridge planted on fir-wood piles, and apparently connecting the rocky +block with the surrounding mountain summits. And gradually we perceive +that it was not Nature's hand which made this rocky scaffolding so high. +Those monochromatic rocks, piled one atop the other, forming a wall all +round, and seeming to prolong the mountain range, are the work of human +hands. It is a massive rocky bastion, almost as high as the hill which +forms its base, and as the walls are everywhere carried right out to the +verge of the steep, naked mountain side, they look as if they have grown +out of it, and as if the creeping plants which cling to the rocky walls +are only there to bind them more closely together. + +In the year 1664, the eye which looked down from this point upon the +bare bastions could have perceived within them a dwelling fresh from +fairy-land. Corsar Beg, the terror of the district, dwelt in this +stronghold, and at his command, hedges of roses bloomed on the bastions, +groves of orange and pomegranate trees sprang up around the courtyard, +and everywhere could be seen those gorgeous structures which oriental +magnificence builds for transient pleasure. Spacious rotundas with +sky-blue, enamelled cupolas, sparkling in the sun; variegated turrets +rising from the bastions; balconies adorned with arabesques and covered +with porcelain vases; slim, snow-white minarets encircled by fragrant +creepers; trellised kiosks with their gilded columns; everything +constructed of the most delicate materials, as if it were meant to be a +toy castle; nothing but gilded wood and painted glass, enamelled tiles +and variegated tapestry. Bright banners and pennants flutter down from +the copper roofs, and golden half-moons sparkle on every gable-ridge. +All the kiosks, rotundas, and minarets are bright with banners and +half-moons. 'Tis a fairy palace ready to take flight. + +But the bastions which encircle this frail fairy palace are impregnable. +On every side nothing but inaccessible rocks, where, if once he reach +them, the pursued can defend himself against odds a hundredfold. The +Comparadschis stand, day and night, with burning matches behind the +cannons which Corsar Beg has had cast for himself within the fortress, +for there is no road for ordnance in the whole region. Two of the +cannons are pointed at the bridge, to blow it into the air in case of an +assault. + +From this stronghold Corsar Beg sallies forth, pillaging the land and +massacring the defenceless people; and if he lights upon any pursuing +host, he instantly turns tail with his Spahis and Bedouins; and whilst +he flies to his stronghold along mountain paths, on mules laden with +booty, his Timariots, who cover his retreat, throw barricades up on the +narrow roads, and stone to death all who venture to follow them into the +dark gorges. Sometimes, however, he permits the pursuers to come right +up to the fortress walls, and while they are popping away at the rocky +bastions with the little half-pound mortars which they have dragged up +thither after incalculable exertions, and think that now they will +starve him out at last, he plays a practical joke upon them by somehow +or other (perhaps through subterranean ways), making a sortie from his +stronghold, and robbing and burning behind the backs of the besiegers. +Every attempt to capture, surprise, or blockade him has been in vain. +The inhabitants of the surrounding villages have begun to migrate into +more distant regions for fear of their terrible neighbour. + +After the battle of St. Gothard, in which the Turkish general lost the +fight and twelve thousand men against the Imperial and Hungarian forces, +a twenty years' armistice was concluded between the Porte, the Emperor, +and the Prince of Transylvania, which left the Turks in possession of +all the fortresses which they had built or captured in Hungary. The +lords of these fortresses now continued the war on their own account, +and pillaged and destroyed whenever and wherever they had a chance. The +Sultan was too far off to interfere in each individual case. All he +could do was to authorize the complainants to capture the peace-breakers +if they could, and deal with them as they chose. + + * * * * * + +In the twilight hour of a sultry summer evening, when the heat, +compressed among the rocks during the day, made the atmosphere so heavy +and stifling that sound only travelled with difficulty, we see two +shapes hastening towards the same point from different directions. One +is a man in Hungarian costume, with a low forehead and sharp, squinting +eyes, whose oblique gaze seems expressly made to disconcert whomsoever +he looks upon. The other is an old Turkish woman, with a warty chin +covered with sprouting bristles. The sleeves of her long striped kaftan +hang slovenly down, and her dirty turban gives you the impression that +she has slept in it for weeks together. + +The trysting-place which the two shapes are cautiously making for is a +cavern covered with bushes. Both shapes glide, at the same time, into +the cavern, from the dark depths of which they can see the fortress +without being seen themselves. The old woman, with a hideous smile, +whispers something in the man's ear. + +"Are you quite sure?" inquired the squinter, with a searching look. + +"So certain that I make bold to claim one-half of the promised reward in +advance." + +"That I can quite understand," replied the man with an insulting smile; +"but I will make bold not to pay it. I prefer sticking to my principle +of paying as I go along, sentence by sentence." + +"Ask then!" murmured the hag greedily. + +"When does the Beg return? I lay five ducats on that question." + +"The answer to it costs ten. That is my lowest price." + +"There's your money then! Now speak!" + +The woman counted the gold pieces, put them in her bosom, and replied-- + +"The Beg comes home this evening." + +"Where is the subterranean way by which he arrives?" + +"The answer to that costs one hundred ducats." + +"There you are! Don't count them, but answer me!" + +The woman took the money, pointed to the yawning chasm behind them, and +said-- + +"We are on the very spot." + +The man looked around him with some surprise, then, jingling the purse +from which he had been doling out the ducats in the old woman's ear, he +said-- + +"All in this purse is yours if our plan succeeds, but if you betray us, +this dagger will surely reach you. I'd hunt you down even if you took +refuge in hell itself!" + +The hag grinned. + +"No threats, please! I know something which will not only make you hand +over that purse of gold to me instantly, but will also fill you with +such insane joy that you'll be ready to cover me with kisses. I have +about me a letter which, if once your master reads, he would cover me +with gold from head to foot." + +"Who wrote it?" + +"That is a very dear question. If you paid for the answer down, I'm +afraid you would not have enough money left to carry you home." + +"I want to know who wrote that letter. I'm not going to buy a pig in a +poke." + +"Then farewell! If you want to know anything more, you must pay for it." +And she prepared to go. + +"Stop! Give me that letter, or I'll kill you." + +"No, you won't! One shriek from me and you are lost." + +"Where's the letter?" + +"You surely don't think me fool enough to tell you! I don't carry it on +my person, so you need not look for it!" + +The man angrily threw the purse towards her, whereupon she tripped to +the entrance of the cavern, fetched from thence her crutch and unscrewed +its handle, and drew forth from the hollow of the stick a crumpled +silken roll, which the man unravelled and began to read, and as he read +his face began to tremble for joy, disbelief, and surprise. + +"If all this really happens, what you have now received is a mere +earnest of what you will receive hereafter." + +"Didn't I tell you so?" returned the beldame complacently. "Didn't I say +that you'd gladly pay me in advance at least one-half of the sum +stipulated?" + +"Now, take heed that nothing is observed!" + +"Pst! Go round by the stream, the usual path is to-day infested by +marauding parties." + +With these words the two shapes glided hastily out of the cavern, and +vanished in different directions among the thickets of the wood. + + * * * * * + +And now begone, thou inhospitable outer world! thou oppressive mountain +panorama! thou desolate horizon! + +Appear, ye fairy realms! ye earthly counterfeits of the paradise of +dreams! Permit us one glance into the sanctuary of mysterious joys, of +stifled kisses, of glowing sighs, where Love and Love's satellites alone +do dwell and live! + +We see before us a gorgeous circular saloon. Its spacious walls are made +of mirrors, the perpetual reflection of which lends a peculiar lustre to +every object, nowhere suffering a shadow to fall. The sky-blue cupola of +the domed ceiling is supported by slender, dark-red porphyry columns, +half concealed by clusters of exotic flowers, which, heaped profusely +together in rose-coloured porcelain vases, scatter the gold-dust of +their velvet blossoms on the floor. The floor itself is covered with +silk carpets--only here and there does the mosaic pavement shimmer +forth. In the midst of the room, in a basin of rose-coloured marble, +bubbles a crystal-clear fountain, from the centre of which springs a jet +glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and falling back in showers +of liquid pearls. The water of this fountain is introduced into the +fortress through a secret passage by hidden pipes. All along the walls +extend rows of velvet divans with cylindrical, flowered cashmere +cushions; and on every side of us are fairies, laughing young girls +dancing on the carpets, romping on the divans, and splashing one another +with the water of the fountain. One odalisk swings a cymbal above her +head, and dances with audacious leaps and bounds among the rest, who, +winding their hands together, weave a magic circle around her. Three +Nubian eunuchs accompany the dancers, singing love-lorn lays to the +music of their simple pipes. + +The veils of these fairy forms flutter left and right, revealing faces +whose youthful charms no eye of man has ever gazed upon. The patter of +their tiny feet is scarcely audible on the soft carpets. They seem to +fly. Their light muslin robes ill conceal their youthful forms, and +their tresses, escaping from their turbans, writhe down their snow-white +shoulders like tame serpents. + +A black slave is playing with the little gold fish that dart about in +the basin of the fountain, and laughs aloud whenever any of the nimble +little animals wriggle out of her hands. Her white, embroidered robe is +held together by a golden girdle, and as she sits there on the rosy +marble, the hemispheres of her ebony-black bosom and her plump round +arms glisten in the sunbeams. The glow of youth shines through her dark +features, and her coral lips, radiant with mirth and joy, allow us a +glimpse at rows of the purest pearly teeth, as, with childish glee, she +laughs at her own simple sport. + +At the end of this oval saloon, raised a few feet above the floor, +stands a purple ottoman. The rosy-coloured damask curtains, which form a +baldachin over it, are tied to the branches of enormous jasmine trees by +heavy golden tassels. Oriental butterflies, with ultramarine wings, +flutter round about the silvery jasmine blossoms; and at the head of the +ottoman, on a perch in a golden cage, two little inseparable paroquets, +with emerald wings and carmine heads, nestle close together and kiss +each other perpetually. + +Stretched out to her full length upon the ottoman lies Corsar Beg's +favourite odalisk[21] Azrael. Beneath her snow-white elbows, left bare +by the loose-falling, laced sleeves of her ample kaftan, lies a living +panther, like a bright speckled cushion, licking his glossy skin, and +playing like a young kitten with his mistress's jasper-black locks which +descend upon his head. + + [Footnote 21: _Odalisk_, from Turkish Odalyk = + chamber-maid. Applied particularly to the chief + concubines of the Sultan.] + +The young lady has well chosen her companion. She too is as slender and +as supple as he; her limbs are just as flexible as his; her slight +figure has the same undulating motion, and in her languid eyes burns +just the same savage, half-quenched fire which we see in the eyes of the +half-tamed beast of prey. She lies supine on the ottoman. The amber +mouthpiece of her fragrant narghily droops from her listless hand. Close +by, on a little ivory table, spiced sherbet exhales from a golden bowl. +There too, on Japanese dishes, lie heaps of luscious fruit--golden, +warty melons; pine-apples; the red fruit of the palm; fragrant clusters +of grapes--and, dripping down upon a little silver platter, snow-white +comb-honey, gathered by the bees in the days of the acacia's bloom. + +Azrael bestows not a glance on the luscious fruits. When, from time to +time, she raises her languid eyes, half hidden by their long silken +lashes, one is almost thunderstruck: such burning glances are only to be +found beneath southern skies, whose summer is as glowing, as +languishing, as parching as the eyes of this girl. An eternal desire +burns in those eyes, unspeakable, unappeasable, which enjoyment feeds +without satisfying. If you gave her a world she would instantly demand +another. Even when every sense is sated with bliss and rapture, her +heart remains empty, and yearns after the unattainable. Those who love +her, she hates; those who hate her, she loves. Die for her, and she will +mock you; kill her, and she will adore you. + +Her oval face is as pale as though the burning rays of her eyes had +burnt up all its roses; but when she closes her eyes, and her bosom +heaves convulsively beneath the fire of her secret thoughts, the bright +crimson blood suffuses her cheeks once more. + +And how her lips tremble! She is in a brown study. She speaks to no one. +Dancing and singing, the girls of the harem circle round her. A little +negro boy kneels before her with a silver mirror. Half-naked female +slaves shower down rose-leaves upon her, and fan her with peacock's +feathers. Azrael sees them and hears them not. She looks into the +mirror, and speaks to herself, as if she would read her own thoughts +from her own features; her lips tremble, smile, and pout defiance; her +eye entices, languishes, weeps, or flashes rejection; at one moment she +transports you into the seventh heaven of delight, at the next she +dashes you to the earth. And now some cruel thought, some demoniacal +idea has got hold of her. She retracts her upper lip, exposing her +tightly-clenched teeth; her contracted eyebrows draw a trembling furrow +across her snow-white forehead; the pupils of her eye disappear, +leaving only the upturned whites visible; the beauty lines round the +corners of her mouth grow crooked, and give the expression of a Fury to +the beautiful countenance; her curling tresses, like writhing snakes, +twist down on both sides of her. Her tremulous fingers, involuntarily +and spasmodically, clutch at the smooth neck of the panther, and the +tortured beast roars aloud for pain. + +The favourite shrinks back from her own countenance. She thrusts aside +the little negro, mirror and all; wraps her starry veil around her; +turns upon her side with her tiny scarlet-slippered feet beneath her; +presses her supple body against the panther's neck, and leaning upon her +elbows, glances around with such a savage, menacing look, that every one +on whom it falls, not even excepting the wild beast, shrinks back with +fear. + +But she cannot keep still a moment. A tormenting weariness compels her +every moment to shift her position. Now she reclines on her divan, and +raising her arms aloft, throws back her head and neck; all her limbs +writhe like the folds of a serpent; in her eyes sparkle the tears of +smothered desires. + +None dare ask her, "What ailest thee?" Azrael is so capricious. Perhaps +the questioner might please her, and she would command her to +straightway leap down before her eyes from the highest pinnacle of the +Corsar's castle into the abyss below. It is therefore neither wise nor +safe to try to please Azrael. + +But lo! a gold-trellised door opens, and Azrael's tearful eyes sparkle +with joy when she perceives who it is that enters. It is the old woman +with the warty chin, whom we have already met at the cavern's mouth. A +ghastly, hideous duenna! Turkish women age prematurely. Ten years ago +Babaye was Corsar Beg's favourite mistress, now she is Azrael's +favourite slave. + +The hag sits down at Azrael's feet. She alone has the privilege of +sitting down before Azrael. + +"Are we weary then?" said the beldame to the beautiful odalisk, with a +confidential leer, displaying a row of jagged fangs black from +sugar-sucking and betel-chewing. "We find no joy in anything, eh? What! +have not the Bayaderes[22] danced amidst a circle of burning tapers? Or +has that also lost its charm? Are the Persian silks already shabby and +threadbare? Is there no longer any flavour in the honeycomb or any +perfume in the pine-apple? Have the pearls of Ceylon lost their lustre? +Do the songs of the Italian eunuchs vex and weary? And has the mirror +nothing beautiful to show? Wherefore is the Sun of suns so moody and so +impatient? Why should a cloud obscure the heaven of Damanhour? Shall I +delight her of the alabaster forehead with a tale? Shall I tell the +story of the captive lion which Medzsnun, the immortal poet, has +written?" + + [Footnote 22: _Bayaderes._ Indian singing and dancing + girls. A Portuguese word.] + +Azrael cast down her languid eyelids by way of assent. + +"Once upon a time they captured a lion in the palm forests of +Bilidulgherid. A rich and powerful Dey bought the beast for a thousand +gold pieces. The Dey was a mighty man. At his command they built for the +lion a cage of gold so large that palm-trees could stand upright +therein. The ceiling of the cage was inlaid with lapis-lazuli. They +brought to it, from the distant mountains, a spring of living water, and +the floor was decked with purple carpets. But the lion was sad and +silent. All day it lay there sullen and morose. Only when the sun had +set would it arise with an angry roar, shake the door of its cage, and +terrify the silence of the night. The Dey asked the lion, 'What dost +thou lack, my beautiful beast? Thy house is of gold. Thou dost eat with +me out of the same dish, and thy drink is the crystal spring! What more +dost thou desire? Wouldst thou bathe in ambergris? Or dost thou desire +for supper the hearts of my favourite odalisks?' The lion roared and +made answer, 'My cage, though it be of gold, is still a cage; these +palm-trees are not the groves of Nubia, and this basin is not the +springs of the desert of Berzendar. I want neither thy perfumes nor thy +spices, nor the throbbing hearts of thy slaves. Give me back the free +air of the desert, there will I speedily find again my good-humour!'" + +Babaye was silent. The odalisk, with a tremulous sigh, bowed down her +head upon her aching bosom, and beckoned to the duenna to tell her yet +another tale. + +"Wouldst thou hear the story of the fairy and the mortal maiden? Once +upon a time the fairy of the rainbow perceived a lovely maiden, enticed +her away with sweet words, and took her over the bridge of the seven +colours into the third heaven. There, everything was more beautiful than +it is on earth--the flower a languid diamond; the sigh of the zephyr a +melodious song; the pillars of the palaces nought but crystal and gems. +There every sense experienced a threefold greater bliss than here below. +The fairy treated the maiden like the apple of her eye--fairies know the +secret of loving tenderly--and yet the girl was sad. She grew weary in +heaven, and whenever the fairy went away to suck up water for the sky +from the ocean, she saw how the girl bent over the rainbow-bridge, and +looked longingly down upon the cloudy earth. 'What lackest thou?' she +asked the maiden. 'Wherefore dost thou look down so upon the earth? +Speak! What dost thou want? Command me, and I'll fetch it for +thee!'--'Stars are falling down from heaven,' replied the girl, 'and +they fall upon the earth. Give me of them, and I will make a pearly +coronet for my hair!' And the fairy went and brought the stars. Again +the maiden looked down sadly upon the earth. Again the fairy asked her, +'What dost thou lack? Is there aught on earth that thy soul desirest?' +The maiden answered, 'There below dance slim damsels, and look up +smilingly at me! Wherefore are they happier than I? Would that I had +their heads to play at ball with!' And the fairy brought the heads of +the damsels for the maiden to play at ball with." + +Azrael looked at the hag with contracted eyebrows, half raised herself +upon her elbows, and sought in her golden girdle for the malachite +handle of her little dagger. + +"Once more the maiden looked down upon the earth," resumed Babaye, +smiling. "'Is aught else to be found there that is worth a wish?' asked +the fairy in despair. 'Below there, youthful heroes are walking to and +fro,' returned the maiden, 'and they are all so sweet and so lovely. +Thou art a fairy, 'tis true, but thou art alone in heaven. Thou canst +not give me fresh love. Let me go back again to earth.'" + +Azrael sprang from the ottoman with glowing cheeks, and seized the +beldame by the shoulder. Her bosom heaved tumultuously; a threatening +scarlet flamed upon her burning face. All the muscles of her snow-white +arms seemed to quiver. + +Babaye looked up at her with a grin. + +"Come into thy bathing-chamber," said she to the agitated odalisk. "The +agate basin exhales the perfumes of spikenard and ambergris. Whilst thou +art there alone, I will entertain thee. I know still more beautiful +tales which shall rejoice thy heart." + +Azrael, all tremulous, drew her veil around her neck, and with nervous +irritability beckoned to the girls to be gone. They escaped through the +side-door in terrified haste; nor were they fearful without good cause, +for as soon as Azrael had withdrawn, the deserted panther, freed from +the thrall of his mistress, stretched himself to his full length, lolled +out his red tongue as far as it would go, protruded his sharp claws, +lowered his head with a menacing growl, sprang at a single bound into +the middle of the room, careered twice or thrice round the walls, +savagely howling and snuffing at every door behind which he scented the +vanished slaves, scratched at the threshold with bloodthirsty rage, and +whined peevishly because he could not get at them. Then he crouched down +by the water-basin, rested his fore-paws thereon, lapped up the +crystal-clear stream with his long red tongue, then, rolling himself +into a ball on the soft carpet, seized his long speckled tail between +his hind legs and played with it like a cat. Then he stood up again, +looked around with cunning, malignant eyes, and perceiving a large white +cockatoo in a bronze cage, wriggled towards it on his belly, and watched +it for a long time with lowered head and restless tail. Suddenly, with +one bound, he sprang upon it, and seized the bar of the cage with his +claws. The terrified cockatoo, loudly screeching, struck at his +assailant with his crooked bill; and the panther, who could neither +overthrow the cage nor destroy it, for it was nailed fast to the ground, +leaped over it again and again, roaring furiously, and then cowered down +before it, lashing the ground on both sides of him with his tail, and +gaping from time to time at the terrified bird with his wide +bloodthirsty jaws, whilst the cockatoo screeched, whistled, fluttered +about the cage, and hacked away at his inaccessible perch. + + * * * * * + +Along the hollow, labyrinthine way which meanders into the Corsar's +castle, the trampling of a troop of horsemen is faintly audible. The +clash of arms resounds from the depths of the wood long before we can +discern who are approaching. Now they have climbed to the mountain +summit where the road runs along the rocky ridge. It is Corsar Beg +himself with his robber band. The booty-laden mules lead the way. The +treasures of pillaged churches gleam forth from the leathern sacks piled +one on the top of the other. In the centre rides the Beg himself, with +his motley body-guard recruited from every kind of Turkish +cavalry--silk-clad Spahis with long lances, bare-armed Baskirs with bows +and arrows, Bedouins in snow-white mantles with long, brass-tipped +muskets. The Beg is a man in the prime of life. His brown, almost black +countenance makes his slight beard and moustaches nearly invisible. His +lips and eyes are large and swollen. His projecting cheek-bones and +broad chin give him a truculent, ferocious air, with which his massive +shoulders and enormous muscular development well agree. His clothing is +tastelessly overladen with gems. A string of pearls goes round his +turban. Large gold rings hang glistening down from his ears. His dolman +is embroidered with a flower-pattern of precious stones, and everything +about his horse, from its hoofs to its snaffle, is of pure gold. His +round shield is made of burnished silver, and the head of his +morning-star consists of a single cornelian. + +His troop follows him in silence. Many of the horsemen carry behind them +half-swooning Christian girls on whom they do not bestow a glance. The +garments of all these freebooters are stained with blood; some of them +have not even taken the trouble to wipe away the blood-stains from their +faces. + +The mules, whipped by the fellahs, trot noiselessly towards the +fortress; the host ambles after them along the narrow path. The Timariot +infantry straggle behind, and quarrel among themselves about the booty +which they carry on their shoulders. No one pursues them. + + * * * * * + +The large oval room is empty. The women of the harem have withdrawn into +their own apartments. Azrael is alone. + +On quitting her perfumed bath, she has a hammock slung over the +fountain, reclines therein, rocks herself luxuriously to and fro, and +lets her glowing, snow-white limbs be splashed by the water-jet. She +folds her arms across her bosom, and, with a self-complacent smile, +watches the diamond jet break against her lithe body as the swaying +hammock cuts across it with its charming burden. + +The red curtains are let down to keep out the rays of sunset, but a +rose-coloured light pervades the room, suffusing every object with a +soft and magic hue. The odalisk appears like a rosy water-nymph swinging +on a bright lotus-leaf over a fountain of liquid rubies. + +The atmosphere of the room is impregnated with a bewitching, +love-inspiring perfume. Not a sound is to be heard save the pattering of +the water-drops as they fall back into the basin. + +All at once the familiar winding of a horn is heard outside. The +prancing and neighing of horses in the courtyard scares away the +silence. Above the din rises the word of command of a well-known voice. +Azrael smiles, and rocks herself still more swiftly in her hammock. A +fatal enticement lurks in her eyes as she looks towards the +golden-trellised door, and throws back her head. + +A minute later, and we hear hasty steps approaching. Impelled by love, +Corsar Beg is hastening towards his earthly paradise. The turning of a +key is audible in the golden door. Azrael laughs aloud, and rocks +herself still more swiftly in her bright-winged hammock. + + * * * * * + +The shadows of night have descended. Every living thing sleeps soundly. +Love alone is wakeful. + +"Oh, I fear me! I fear me!" whispers Azrael, clinging still more closely +to the breast of the wild Moorish horseman. + +"Why dost thou tremble? I am here," and he embraces her slim waist. + +"Hamaliel hath brought me evil dreams," returns the odalisk. "I dreamt +that the Giaours stormed thy castle in the night-time and murdered thee. +I would have hurled myself down from the battlements, but I could not +because I was a captive. A Christian held me in his arms! Mashallah! it +was frightful!" + +"Fear not!" said the Corsar. "The Koran says that only birds can fly, +and none can get into this castle without wings. But even if we were +surprised thou hast no cause to fear falling into the hands of the +Infidel, or being defiled by the touch of the Giaour, for under the +ottoman on which we now lie a lunt is laid which goes right down into +the powder-chamber. If all were lost, thou hast but to touch that lunt +with this night-lamp, and the whole castle with us and our foes would +fly into the air." + +"Oh, what a consoling thought!" sighs Azrael, softly pressing her lips +to the Corsar's cheeks, and seeming to slumber once more. + +The night-lamp flickers feebly on its tripod, multiplying its own +shadow. The watchers snore before the doors. + +Suddenly Azrael springs screaming from her couch, dragging the Beg along +with her. + +"La illah, il allah! Dost thou not hear the noise of the Jins?" she +cries, trembling in every limb. + +The Beg stares around him in terror. A tempest is raging outside. The +weathercocks creak and rattle. The wind tears the tiles from the summits +of the minarets, and hurls them on to the cupolas of the kiosk. The +lightning flashes, and the thunder teaches the rocks to tremble. + +"Dost thou hear how they howl, those invisible beings, and rattle at the +barred and bolted windows with a mighty hand?" + +"By the shadow of Allah! I hear them right well," murmurs the trembling +freebooter, with wildly staring eyes. + +"Mercy! mercy! Avaunt, ye evil spirits!" cries Azrael, sinking down upon +the floor with dishevelled tresses, and stretching wide her naked arms. +"Ye shall be whipped with sunbeams and the darkness shall swallow you! +Go hence to the Giaours and torture them! May ye break your wings on the +horns of our half-moons, as ye whirl past them in your hosts!--Ha, how +their eyes flash! Shadow of Allah, conceal us, lest they look upon us +with their fiery eyes!" + +The big, strong man, all trembling, lies on his face beside Azrael, and +hides himself beneath her mantle and her long flowing tresses. His +superstitious terror has stolen every feeling of manliness from his +breast; he quakes like a child. + +"Dost hear! dost hear how they murmur! Repeat rapidly and aloud the +prayer of Naama, and stop thy ears that thou mayst not hear what they +say!" + +At that moment a terrible gust broke one of the panes of glass, and the +free invading air began to move the heavy curtains to and fro, and make +the lamp flicker. + +"Ha! Dost thou see him?" cried Azrael. "Pst! Look not thither! Open not +thine eyes! Hide thy face! Duck down by me! Cover thee with my mantle! +It is Asasiel, the Angel of Death! Dost thou not feel his cold sigh upon +thy cheek? Pst! Be covered! Perchance he will not see thee!" + +Corsar Beg clung convulsively to Azrael's garment, and covered his face +with his hands. + +"What wouldst thou?" cried Azrael, as if addressing an invisible spirit. +"Black shadow, with blue sparkling eyes of fire, for whom dost thou +come? There is none here but I. Corsar Beg has not come home! Come +later! Come an hour hence! Avaunt, avaunt, black being! May Allah crush +thy head in the dust! Come an hour hence, and be for ever accursed!" + +Corsar dared not open his eyes. Azrael bent half over him, to shield him +from the eyes of the Angel of Death. + +"Avaunt! avaunt!" + +At that moment the lightning struck one of the bastions, and shook the +mountain to its very base. The crackling roar of the thunder, like an +infernal trumpet-blast, went clanging up to heaven. + +"Ah!" cried Azrael, and she sank down upon the Corsar, encircled his +body with her arms, and so remained till the rumbling of the thunder had +died away, and a gentle shower began to patter down upon the copper +roof. Then the tempest gradually passed away, sighing and moaning around +the windows, and finally dying away among the distant forests. + +Azrael softly raised her head and looked around. + +"He is gone," she whispered, in a scarcely audible tone. "He said he +would return in an hour. Corsar, thou hast yet another hour to live." + +"An hour!" repeated Corsar faintly. "Alas! Azrael, where canst thou +conceal me?" + +"It cannot be. Asasiel is inexorable. Another hour, and he will take +thee away." + +"Bargain with him. If he must have the dead, I will behead a hundred of +my slaves. Promise him blood, treasure, prayers, and burning villages. +All, all he shall have, only let him give me back my life!" + +"Too late. In my dreams I saw thy sword break in twain. Thy days are +numbered. Nay, thou hast but one chance left, but one way of thwarting +the Angel of Blood: if only one among the dead will change names with +thee, so that Asasiel may carry him off instead of thee." + +"Oh yes! oh yes!" stammered the strong man, beside himself for fear. +"Oh, seek me out some such dead man who will change names with me. Thou +dost know the incantations. Go! call up one from the grave! Promise him +anything, everything, whoever he may be--a fellah, a rajah, it matters +not. I'll give him my name and take his. Go!" + +"Nay, but thou must go also. Gird on thy kaftan quickly. Leave thy +weapons here. Spirits fear not sharp steel. We will descend into the +churchyard beneath the fortress walls; kindle ambergris and borax on a +tripod; hurl the magic wand into the nearest grave, and so compel the +dwellers therein to appear before thee. When the spirit appears he will +stand motionless, but thou must advance towards him, and cry thrice in +a loud voice--'Die for me!' whereupon the spirit will vanish, and +Asasiel will cease from troubling thee." + +"But thou too wilt be close at hand?" stammered the Corsar, grasping +tightly the arm of the odalisk, as if he feared that Death would +instantly seize him if he let her go. + +"Yes, I will be by thy side. But hasten. An hour is but a brief +respite." + +Corsar quickly threw his upper garment around him, and recited in broken +sentences the beginning of a prayer, the end of which he could not +recollect. + +"Wake none of the watch," said Azrael cautiously. "The power of the +spell might be broken if we met any living soul who should say a prayer +contrary to ours. We will saddle the horses ourselves and descend by +secret paths. Speak not a word by the way, nor cast a glance behind +thee." + +The Beg was ready. He was just putting on his fur-lined kaftan, for his +limbs felt frozen, when the odalisk called to the panther, which was +reposing on the carpet. + +"Oglan,[23] thou shalt go with us and keep watch, and if we fall in with +a wild beast, thou shalt defend us." + + [Footnote 23: _Oglan_, the Turkish for boy.] + +As if he understood the words of his mistress, the panther rose up on +his hind legs and placed his fore-paws on her arm, while the trembling +man clung to her on the other side. + + * * * * * + +The Turkish cemetery beneath the walls of the fortress is planted with +cypress trees. The turbaned graves, with their coffin-like slabs, peer +forth, ghastly white, from among the dark weeping-willows. The sound of +the approaching footsteps startles away a grey wolf from among the +tombs, the sole inhabitant of that desolation. Since the last shower the +clouds have dispersed, and here and there the dark-blue sky looks +through with its diamond stars. Raindrops trickle down from the leaves +of the trees. + +From time to time the rumbling of the storm is still heard faintly in +the distance. Sheet-lightning flickers above the mountain crests, +painting everything white for an instant. The lightning, like the night, +can only give one colour to this region--the one paints it white, the +other black. + +The nightly shapes reach the churchyard by the secret path and dismount +among the graves. Azrael places the reins of both horses in Oglan's +jaws, and the shrewd beast remains sitting there on his haunches, +holding both the snorting horses as firmly as if they were fastened to a +stake. + +The Moorish horseman and the odalisk ascend a high funereal mound, the +tombstone of which is barely visible through the dependent branches of a +weeping willow. + +"Something more than a slave must rest beneath that stone," whispered +Azrael to the quaking horseman; and placing her magic tripod on the +tomb, she ignited with a phosphorous pellet the powdered ambergris and +borax, which flickered up and cast a whitish glare all around the grave. + +There was a slight rustle in the distance. The Corsar's horse neighed +uneasily. + +"What was that?" asked the Corsar. + +"The Jins," replied Azrael; "look not behind thee." + +With that she raised her magic staff, and pronounced in unintelligible +words the exorcism over the grave. + +"Thou restless spirit, appear at my bidding. Wherever thou art, beneath +the dark tree of Hell, or in the garden of the Houris; whether thou dost +pine in chains of fire or dost recline on beds of roses, obey my voice, +fly through the air, dissipate the darkness, and appear before me in the +mortal shape thou didst wear on earth. Appear!" + +With these words she struck with her staff upon the stone slab, and +immediately a lofty shape in a white winding-sheet rose up from behind +the tomb. + +"Now advance three steps forward and speak to it," cried Azrael to the +confounded Moor. + +With tottering footsteps Corsar Beg approached the shape, and cried with +a hoarse, trembling voice-- + +"My name is Corsar Beg. Who then art thou, accursed spirit?" + +"I am Balassa," replied the shape with a sonorous voice; and casting +aside the white winding-sheet, a powerfully-built, fair-complexioned man +appeared with a drawn sword in his hand. "Corsar Beg, you are my +prisoner," cried he to the Turk, who stood there in his bewilderment as +if turned to stone. + +The next moment the Beg put his hand to his side, and not finding his +sword there, rushed back with a howl of fury to his horse, threw himself +like lightning into the saddle, and struck his sharp spurs into the +flanks of his steed. But Oglan held the reins firmly between his teeth, +and when the horse tried to start off, the panther planted his front +paws firmly into the ground, and forced it back again. + +"To hell with thee, accursed monster!" roared the Beg, foaming with +rage, and striking at the panther with his fist; but the beast tugged +the halter first to the right and then to left, and stopped the horse in +its flight; terrified it with his leaps and bounds, and forced it to go +round and round. + +"Speak to this monster, Azrael!" cried the Beg. He turned round to look +for his favourite, and he beheld her nestling lovingly in Balassa's +bosom, with her snow-white arms encircling the young Hungarian's neck. +At the same instant the woods all around teemed with life; the ambushed +Hungarian soldiers rushed forth and tore the Beg from his horse, who, +even when forced to the ground, tried to defend himself with stones. + +"Be accursed!" gasped the vanquished freebooter. + +The attacking squadrons marched before his very eyes through the secret +passage into the fortress, and an hour later he could see, by the light +of his burning palace, his favourite Azrael mounting up behind Balassa, +and disdaining to bestow so much as a glance at the discomfited Beg. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER. + + +Several years have elapsed since Apafi became a Prince. We have reached +that period when the unexpected death of Nicolas Zrinyi dissolved the +faction of the malcontent Hungarians, compelling most of them to +emigrate into Transylvania, which land, owing to the ceaseless +antagonism of the German Emperor and the Turkish Sultan, was allowed to +enjoy an independent government. It paid indeed a tribute to the Sublime +Porte; but it adopted what measures it chose in its own Diet, and if the +Tartars occasionally reduced a few villages to ashes, that was only +another proof that they no longer regarded the land as their own +property. All the strongholds were in the hands of the Prince. He could +keep as many soldiers as his purse would pay for, wage war with +whomsoever he could cope, and hoodwink the Turks whenever it pleased him +so to do. The Turk had nothing to find fault with, either in the +constitution of the land, its peculiar privileges, its patriarchal +aristocracy, its Latin language, and its Hungarian dolman; or, again, in +its manifold religions and its three distinct[24] and self-governing +nationalities. All these things did not trouble him in the least. At +most he pitied the poor gentlemen who made such a muddle of affairs of +state; but he never made the slightest attempt to initiate them into his +own much simpler political system. + + [Footnote 24: _Viz._ the Saxons, the Szeklers, and the + Magyars. The Wallachs simply cultivated the soil.] + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, great changes had taken place at Ebesfalva. The dwelling of +the Prince no longer consisted of a simple manor-house. On a +neighbouring hill he had had a castle built with lofty, square towers, +from the corners of which rose still loftier turrets. The entrance was +guarded by two proudly rampant stone lions. On the façade, in bold +relief, was carved the inscription: _Fata viam inveniunt_. A vestibule, +connecting one wing of the castle with the other, and surrounded by a +richly-gilded and ornamented trellis-work, runs along the front of the +castle on huge, classically-carved stone pillars. The windows are all in +the Perpendicular style, with old-fashioned ornaments, and you reach the +inner courtyard by a subterranean corridor. + +In this courtyard, instead of ploughs and wagons, our eye falls upon +arquebusses and culverins. Instead of peasants, we see body-guards, in +yellow dolmans and scarlet hose, swaggering before the doors. To reach +the Prince's cabinet, one must traverse long corridors and re-echoing +saloons, in which pages, footmen, and gentlemen of the bedchamber +announce the newcomer from door to door, and when one has finally +reached the reception-chamber, it is only to see, after all, not the +Prince, but the Prince's chief councillor, Master Michael Teleki, the +same bald-headed man whom we first met at Csakatorny, at that memorable +hunt where Nicolas Zrinyi met his death. At that time the worthy +gentleman was only one of Prince George Rakoczy's disgraced ex-captains; +but since then a kind Providence has taken him by the hand, and he is +now Captain-General of Kövar, and the Prince's omnipotent prime +minister. His mother was the Princess's sister, and his aunt, whom he +always calls sister (women seldom take offence at such mistakes), +introduced him to her consort. Once near the Prince, Teleki needed no +one's good word. His comprehensive intellect, vast knowledge, and +statesmanlike dexterity made him indispensable to the Prince, who loved +to bury himself among his books and his antiquities, and felt aggrieved +when anything tore him away from his family circle or his favourite +studies. + +To-day, too, his reception-room is crammed to suffocation by gentlemen +who seek an audience of his Highness. They are the fugitive Hungarians, +of whom the Prince seems to stand in peculiar horror. These restless, +bellicose, dark-browed people are an abomination to the easy-going, +contemplative Prince. So he shuts himself up in his study, and the only +person admitted to his presence is the learned and reverend John +Passai, Professor at Nagy-Enyed, beloved by the Prince on account of +his profound scholarship. + +Apafi's private room is more like the study of a scholar than the +cabinet of a ruler. All around stands filled with books in gilded +bindings hide the walls, and in every corner lie heaps of plans and +charts. In the very circumscribed intervening spaces stand consoles with +clocks upon them, which the Prince always winds up himself; and the +chairs and sofas are so overladen with books for immediate use, that +whenever the Prince has a confidential visitor, he hardly knows where to +bestow him. Nay, sometimes the stone floor itself is so bestrewn with +outspread maps, dusty MSS., and open folios, that Teleki, when he +enters, has to walk as circumspectly as one who picks his way +circuitously through mud and mire. + +The two gentlemen are at the present moment standing before the table, +which is covered with all sorts of ancient coins. Apafi wears a short +grey coat with loose sleeves, which is fastened round his loins by a +silken cord. His headgear consists of a round skin cap. Passai is +buttoned up in a dark-green, fur-lined mente, which reaches from his +chin to his heels. His thick white hair is shoved back and held together +by a large circular comb. His face, despite the wrinkles which cover it, +is fresh and ruddy, and his teeth are as perfect as those of a youth. + +Apafi is attentively regarding a gold piece, which he poises between his +fingers and holds against the light. Passai stands hat in hand before +the Prince like a log, with his wrinkled countenance fixed intently on +his Highness. + +Apafi petulantly turns and twists the coin in all directions. + +"These are not Roman letters," he angrily murmurs; "neither are they +Greek nor Cyrillic, and least of all Hunnish symbols. Where was it +found?" he asked, turning to Passai. + +"In Vasarhely, as the Wallachs were removing the ruins of the old +temple." + +"Deuce take them! They might have been better employed." + +"It was a very ancient ruin, what they call a Roman temple." + +"But it cannot have been a Roman temple, for this is not a Roman coin." + +"That's my opinion too; but the Wallachs have a way of regarding all +the ruins in Transylvania as Roman monuments." + +"But why did they take it to pieces?" + +"The villagers wanted to make lime of the statues." + +"The impious wretches!" cried Apafi indignantly, "to turn such precious +masterpieces of art into lime. And you have not striven to save at least +a part of it from destruction?" + +"I bought the lid of a sarcophagus adorned with sculptures, and a sphinx +in a perfect state of preservation; but the Wallach who was charged with +their removal was too lazy to have them lifted up as they stood, so he +broke up the statues into five or six pieces, so that he might have less +trouble in loading his cart." + +"That man deserves to be impaled. I will issue a decree that no one +shall henceforth lay a hand upon such antiquities." + +"I am afraid your Highness will arrive too late, for when the people +found that I was paying for these stones, the belief spread among them +that I was seeking for diamonds and carbuncles therein, so they smashed +the whole mass into such tiny morsels that they could now be offered for +sale as sand." + +"Have you spoken to that nobleman of Deva about the mosaic?" + +"He won't part with it at any price. He said that none of his ancestors +had ever carried their property to market. If only he would remove it +from the place where he found it, it would be something. But he won't +even do that, and now the cow-house stands over it, and the oxen make +their beds on the prostrate figures of Venus and Cupid." + +"I should very much like to confiscate that man's property, and so come +into possession of that priceless curiosity," cried Apafi, with a +scholar's zeal, and again he busied himself with the investigation of +the enigmatical letters. + +At that moment Teleki entered the room with a busy, important look, and +drawing from his silken pocket a MS. roll, placed it open in Apafi's +hand. The Prince made as though he were reading the document +attentively, and wrinkled his brows. Suddenly he looked up and exclaimed +joyfully-- + +"They are Dacian letters!" + +"What!" cried Teleki, opening his eyes wide in his astonishment. He was +at a loss to explain how the Prince could have found Dacian letters in +the Latin MS. which he had just put into his hands. + +"Yes; there can be no doubt about it," continued the Prince. "I +recollect reading somewhere--in Dion Cassius, I think--that the Romans, +after the fall of Decebalus,[25] had commemorative medallions struck off +with Dacian inscriptions, and the figure of a decapitated man on the +reverse. Don't you see the emblem?" + + [Footnote 25: _Decebalus_. King of Dacia during the + reigns of Domitian, Nerva, and Trajan.] + +"But your Highness," interrupted Teleki impatiently, "the memorial which +I have handed to you----" + +And now for the first time Apafi perceived that a parchment was in his +hand awaiting perusal. He returned it sulkily to Teleki. + +"I have already told you that I can speak to no one to-day. In a month +the session of the Diet will begin, and then the Hungarian gentlemen can +ventilate their affairs to their hearts' content." + +"I cry your Highness' pardon!" replied Teleki caustically; "this +document is not from the Hungarian lords, but from his Excellency the +Tartar Khan." + +"And what does he want?" cried Apafi, throwing a glance upon the +parchment, but when he perceived how long it was he laid it aside. "I +will be brief with him. Who brought the letter?" + +"An emir." + +Apafi immediately threw his attila over his shoulders, girded on his +sword, and stepped into the reception-room. + +"Good-day! good-day!" he cried hastily to those assembled there. He +wished to cut short their long ceremonious greetings, and looked about +among them with inquiring eyes. + +"Where is the emir?" + +The Tartar envoy at once stepped forward. He was a truculent, swarthy +fellow, with small sparkling eyes. A heron's plume as long as the shaft +of a lance waved from his large turban. He wore a red, richly-fringed +jacket, and the gold inlaid hilt of his scimitar peeped forth from his +broad girdle. Defiantly he placed himself in front of the Prince and +stuck out his chest. + +"_Salem alek!_ What do you want?" asked Apafi curtly. + +The emir measured the Prince from head to foot twice or thrice with his +piercing eyes, threw back his head, and said-- + +"My master, the gracious Kuban Khan, bids me say to thee, O Prince of +the Giaours, that thou art a perjured, false, and faithless man. Thou +didst swear by thy honour that we should be good neighbours, and how +hast thou kept thy word? It chanced last year that we traversed the +Saxon[26] land, and visited those towns whose names no true believer can +pronounce, to collect the usual yearly tribute. They were ever good +payers, but some among them chancing to lag behind with their +contributions were, by the order of the most gracious Khan, instantly +reduced to ashes that they might learn to behave better another time. +And perchance thou dost fancy that they amended their evil ways? Not at +all. For when we visited them again this year, we found the charred and +naked walls as we had left them the year before: the unbelieving dogs +had traitorously fled away. Wherefore my gracious master, the mighty +Kuban Khan, bids me ask thee what manner of prince thou art that dost +suffer these unbelieving dogs to so forsake their towns and make fools +of us. When we came at other times, the hay was housed, the corn +thrashed, the cattle stalled--and this time we find nought but weeds, +and therein hares and other unclean beasts which ye unbelievers delight +to eat, and none of the towns built up again, so that we could take no +vengeance. Look to it, then, if thou wouldst not draw down upon thy head +the wrath of the mighty Khan, look to it that thou commandest this +runaway people to return to its towns that we may reckon with them; and +in the meantime bid the remaining Saxon towns, which have faithlessly +environed their houses with impregnable walls, that they open their +gates to us, otherwise we will visit thee in Klausenburg itself with +fire and sword, and will not leave thee one stone upon another." + + [Footnote 26: _Saxons_. Geza II. (1141-1161) planted in + Transylvania a German colony to clear the forests and + till the lands. These so-called Saxons have survived to + the present day, and reside chiefly at Hermannstadt.] + +Apafi, during the course of this speech, had frequently laid his hand on +his sword, but he evidently thought better of it, for it was with the +utmost tranquillity that he thus replied-- + +"Go back! Greet thy master, and say that we will give him satisfaction." + +With that he turned his back upon the envoy, and would have returned to +his cabinet had not Teleki barred the way. + +"That is not enough, your Highness. Once for all we must make it +impossible for any dog-headed Tartar to speak such brave words before +the throne of the Prince of Transylvania." + +"Speak to him then yourself!" + +Teleki thereupon, with an earnest, dignified mien, stepped up to the +emir, stared him out of countenance, and said with a firm voice-- + +"Thy master is doubtless the ruler of Tartary, but is not my master the +Prince of Transylvania? And is not the sublime Sultan the protector of +us both? Know then that the sublime Sultan did not make thy master Khan +of Tartary that he might dwell in Transylvania, nor has he set my master +on the throne of Transylvania to endure the insolence of thy master! Go +back then to thine own land, and come not hither again to wonder why a +town which is burnt down one year is not built up again the next. We +will take good care that all such places are rebuilt, but we will also +see that the bastions are high enough to keep thee out, and shouldst +thou desire to visit us at Klausenburg next year, we will also take care +that thou shalt not have thy journey for nothing, and will provide guns +in abundance to salute thee at a respectful distance." + +All this Teleki said to the emir with a perfectly serious countenance. + +The emir snorted with fury. His eyes grew bloodshot. His hand played +with the hilt of his scimitar, and he stammered with pallid lips-- + +"If any of my master's servants spoke thus in his presence, he would +immediately have his head struck off." + +But Apafi tapped Teleki on the shoulder, and murmured as he stroked his +beard-- + +"It is well, Master Michael Teleki! You have spoken like a man." + +The emir turned furiously upon his heel, and, shaking the dust from his +feet, left the room. + +This scene put Apafi in a good humour, especially with Teleki. The +minister could read this change of mood in his master's face, and +hastened to make use of it. Taking one of the many suitors by the hand, +he presented him to Apafi with these words-- + +"My future son-in-law, your Highness." + +Apafi would probably have escaped from a presentation made in any other +way; but made in this form he could not possibly avoid it. He was +compelled to cast a glance upon the young man. + +The person so presented was a tall, handsome stripling with blooming red +cheeks and no trace, as yet, of a beard. In his femininely beautiful +features, it was pride alone which revealed the man. + +The youth pleased Apafi. + +"What is your son-in-law's name?" he asked Teleki. + +With a peculiar smile Teleki said-- + +"Emerich, Stephen Tököly's son." + +On hearing this name, Apafi suddenly became very grave, and said to the +young man-- + +"Your father was a good friend to me"--and yet he did not extend his +hand to the son. + +"I know it," replied the youth, "and for that reason I have come to your +Highness." + +"But your late father--God rest him!--was an unruly spirit. It is well +that you have not followed in his footsteps. He was never happy unless +he was fighting. The thunder of artillery was a vital necessity to him, +and the last hours of his life were spent at a siege. Well for you that +you do not imitate him! You seem to me a very steady, quiet sort of +young man." + +"Oh! such praise as that I'm sure I don't deserve," replied Tököly +proudly; "I also was at the siege you speak of, and defended the +fortress till my father died." + +Apafi did not like to be interrupted in this way, but, meaning to show +his sympathy, he added, after a pause-- + +"And how then did you manage to escape, my son?" + +Emerich blushed deeply and would not answer; but Teleki, by way of +correcting his young kinsman's intemperate zeal, answered +apologetically-- + +"The fact is, he was then very young, so they disguised him in woman's +clothes, and he was thus able to elude the vigilance of the besiegers." + +Apafi immediately recovered his good-humour. He playfully stroked the +youth's blood-red cheeks, and signified to Teleki that he might now +introduce the other gentlemen also. + +They were all fugitives from Hungary, and the Prince did his best to +appear gracious towards them; but, in the meantime, one of the court +ushers entered and announced with a loud voice-- + +"His Excellency Monsieur l'Abbé Reverend, the French Envoy, desires an +audience." + +This announcement again filled Apafi with embarrassment. He drew Teleki +aside and whispered in his ear-- + +"I will not, I cannot receive him. Go out and speak to him yourself, and +explain how matters stand." And with that he hastily quitted the +reception-room, delighted at having this time shifted the difficulty on +to Teleki's shoulders; but he remained listening at the door to find out +whether there would be any violent explosion behind his back. + +And an explosion there certainly was, though not of a particularly +terrifying character. + +The Prince heard Teleki burst into a jovial peal of laughter, whereupon +all the gentlemen present with one accord followed his example, just as +if they were taking part in some intensely amusing diversion. + +"It must indeed be a very peculiar phenomenon which extorts such +extravagant merriment from these sour-faced gentry," thought Apafi, and +he half opened the door--he could not quite open it, because learned +Master Passai, ordinarily a miracle of gravity, had so given himself up +to mirth that he was forced to lean back against the Prince's cabinet. + +"Let me come in, Master Passai!" cried the inquisitive Prince, and +succeeding shortly afterwards in opening the door, the cause of the +general mirth was immediately obvious to him. + +The Abbé Reverend stood in the centre of the room in full Hungarian +costume. A more comical figure was scarcely conceivable. + +The worthy gentleman, who rejoiced in the possession of a really +redoubtable corporation, standing there, clean shaven and benignly +smiling, presented an amiably ludicrous figure, of which only an +Hungarian, or one who knows what a severe criterion of the human figure +the tight-fitting Magyar costume really is, can form any idea. Add to +this that the worthy Frenchman, in his stiff hose and spurred +jack-boots, moved about as gingerly as if he feared every moment to fall +on his nose. He had also forgotten to buckle on his girdle, which lent a +peculiar quaintness to his general get-up, and his long bag-wig, in +which he looked like a lion, was surmounted by a tiny round cap from +which waved a gigantic heron plume. + +Apafi did not see why he too should not smile when the others laughed. + +Monsieur Reverend, with that facility peculiar to Frenchmen of coupling +gaiety with solemnity, tripped at once up to the Prince and said-- + +"Your Highness's persistent refusal to receive me made me assume that +perchance I did not present myself becomingly attired, and my present +good-fortune demonstrates the correctness of my assumption, for the +moment I present myself in Magyar costume I am lucky enough to behold +you." + +"Parbleu, Monsieur!" returned Apafi, repressing his merriment with +difficulty, "I am always glad to see you on condition that politics are +banished from our discourse. But you have not fastened on your scarf, +and without the scarf a person in the Magyar dress looks for all the +world like a Frenchman who has forgotten to put on his breeches." + +With these words the Prince produced a scarf adorned with gems, and tied +it with his own hands round the respectable waist of Monsieur Reverend. + +"And what's this? Who taught you to stuff your pocket-handkerchief into +your trousers pocket? Only heydukes do that. What the deuce! A nobleman +always keeps his pocket-handkerchief in his kalpag. So! Hem! What a +beautiful pocket-handkerchief you've got!" + +"Splendid, is it not?" + +"Indeed it is! A garland pattern in silk thread, with gold and silver +embroideries at the corners. Only Paris can produce the like of this." + +"And yet it was manufactured in Transylvania." + +"You don't say so?" + +"Yes; and what is more, in this very place, in Ebesfalva." + +Apafi looked at Monsieur Reverend with amazement. + +"And I not to know the artistic hands which work such beautiful things!" + +"But your Highness does know them. The name of the fair artist will be +found embroidered in gorgeous Gothic letters on the hem of the +handkerchief." + +Apafi carefully examined all the corners of the handkerchief one after +the other. Each had a different device embroidered on it--here a wreath +of oak-leaves, there a trophy, in the third a Turkish scimitar, an +Hungarian sabre, and a French sword bound together by a ribbon. At last +he came to the fourth corner, where, beneath a princely coronet, was +embroidered the word _Apafiné_.[27] + + [Footnote 27: _Apafiné_ = Lady Apafi. The "né" is a + feminine suffix.] + +The Prince read the name aloud. All who stood around looked at Apafi's +face with fearful suspense, as if they expected an explosion of wrath. +To every one's surprise, however, the Prince only smiled, stuck the +pocket-handkerchief into Monsieur Reverend's kalpag, cocked it rakishly +on the ambassador's head, and said to him with peculiar _bonhomie_-- + +"So you have succeeded in seducing my wife, eh?" + +Reverend laughed awkwardly at what was a rather ambiguous jest so far as +he was concerned. + +"Me, however, you shall not seduce," added Apafi, smiling. + +Reverend bowed deeply; then, throwing back his head, he observed +archly-- + +"That will be brought about also, I hope, though by mightier than I." + +At that moment the door opened and a servant announced--"Her Highness, +Dame Anna of Bornemissa, his Highness's consort, desires an audience of +the Prince." + +Apafi looked at Teleki. + +"This is all your doing." + +Teleki calmly replied--"It is, your Highness." + +"You have besieged us in form?" + +"I do not deny it, your Highness." + +"It was you who brought the ambassador to the Princess?" + +"Such is indeed the case, your Highness." + +"And it was you who then advised him to present himself in this +masquerade in order to lure me hither more easily?" + +"I did it all, your Highness." + +"Then you have done a very foolish thing, Master Michael Teleki." + +"That remains to be seen, your Highness," replied the minister proudly, +conscious of his own intellectual superiority. + +Meanwhile Dame Apafi had entered the room; her princely robes well +became her princely aspect. All the gentlemen present hastened forward +to do her homage. But Apafi also advanced quickly towards her, put his +arm through hers, and with marked tenderness endeavoured to lead her +into his cabinet. + +"No; let us remain here," cried the Princess; "there will be plenty of +time later on to look at your Dutch clocks. Far more serious matters +claim our attention first. These gentlemen from Hungary desire an +audience." + +Apafi exploded at once. + +"I know beforehand what they want, and I have declared once for all that +I will hear no more of the matter." + +"But you will surely listen to me. I too am an Hungarian woman, and in +the name of my fatherland I implore the Prince of Transylvania for help. +None shall say that I rule the Prince in secret. Look now, I advance +openly before his throne, and I beg of him protection for Hungary, whose +sons are called strangers in Transylvania, though I, her daughter, am +the Princess." + +From Apafi's looks it was clear that he would much rather have listened +to the Hungarian gentlemen than to his own consort. But he was caught in +a trap. She stood before him as a petitioner. There was no escape. + +Teleki bade the pages in waiting at the door admit no one else. Apafi, +with a gesture of impatience, sat down in an arm-chair, and resigned +himself to listen to his consort; but Anna had scarcely commenced to +speak, when the rattling of a coach was heard in the courtyard, and +shortly afterwards heavy footsteps resounded in the corridors, and a +stern, dictatorial voice, with which every one appeared to be familiar, +asked if the Prince was in. The pages said No, and tried to stop the +intruder, but exclaiming, "Out of my way, you brats!" he burst open the +door and forced his way into the room. It was none other than Denis +Banfi. + +He had just descended from his carriage. His cheeks were much redder +than usual, and his eyes sparkled. He went straight towards the Prince +and cried, without the slightest preamble-- + +"Do not listen to these gentlemen, your Highness! Do not listen to a +single word." + +The Prince smiled and greeted Banfi. + +"God preserve you, my cousin," said he. + +"Pardon me, your Highness, if in my great haste I neglected to salute +you; but when I heard that the Hungarian gentlemen were here in +audience, I was quite beside myself with rage. What do you want?" +continued he, turning towards the Hungarians; "not satisfied, I suppose, +with ruining your own country with your unruliness, you must needs come +hither to disturb us likewise?" + +"You speak of us," remarked Teleki, with quiet sarcasm, "as if we +belonged to some outlandish Tartar stock, and as if we had been cast +hither from heaven only knows what sort of savage, distant land." + +"On the contrary, I know you only too well, ye Hungarian lords. I speak +of you as men whose turbulence has, time out of mind, been ruinous to +Transylvania. The people of Hungary are idiots one and all." + +"I beg you not to lose sight of the fact that I too am one of them," +said the Princess. + +"I know it; and it is with anything but satisfaction that I see the will +of your Highness predominant here." + +Dame Apafi, with an expression of wounded dignity, turned towards her +brother-in-law. + +"Whatever you may say, I will not cease to be your good kinswoman and +well-wisher," and with these words she quitted the room. + +"You might at least have addressed the Prince more becomingly," remarked +Teleki, sharply. + +"Have I then spoken one word to the Prince?" asked Banfi, shrugging his +shoulders. "How can I even reach his Highness when you are always +standing in the way? I am and always will be the enemy of those who have +no right whatever to stand on the steps of the throne, and you are one +of them, Master Michael Teleki. Oh, don't imagine that the reasons which +make you so enthusiastic in the Hungarian cause are hidden from me. You +are not content with being the first in Transylvania after the Prince; +you would fain become Palatine of Hungary[28] as well. Ha! ha! how you +all befool one another. The French promise aid to the Hungarians; the +Hungarians promise Teleki the dignity of Palatine; Teleki promises Apafi +a kingly crown, and ye lie, the whole lot of you; ye deceive and are +deceived." + + [Footnote 28: _Palatine_ (Hungarian: "_Nador_"). The + Palatine was the highest dignitary in Hungary after the + King. The dignity was instituted soon after the year + 1000, but since 1848 has been found incompatible with + modern parliamentary government.] + +"Sir," replied Teleki, bitterly, "is that the way to speak to guests, to +exiled, unhappy fellow-countrymen?" + +"Don't teach me how to be generous," retorted Banfi, proudly. "At my +house the poor and the persecuted have ever found an asylum, and if +these fugitive gentlemen wish us to share house and home with them, I'm +ready to do so. Here's my hand upon it. But just as I should be out of +my senses to burn my own house down, so now too I protest against the +conflagration of my country; and if you do not cease from troubling a +peaceful land, I'll leave no stone unturned till I have driven you all +out." + +"We ought not to be surprised at this tone, my friends," said Teleki, +with bitter scorn, turning towards the Hungarians. "His Excellency here +has been so very recently amnestied by the Prince, that he imagines he +is still at war with us." + +Apafi, who had been sitting on burning coals, now interposed. + +"Cease this bickering. We dismiss you all. You see that sundry of our +councillors are against the matter, and without their consent I can do +nothing." + +"Then," cried Teleki, with solemn emphasis, "we appeal to the Diet." + +"I too will be there," said Banfi. + +The Prince, very much offended, withdrew to his cabinet. The Hungarian +nobles, much excited, went out by the other door. Teleki remained +behind. Banfi, adjusting his marten-skin cap, haughtily measured his +opponent from head to foot, and exclaimed ironically as he went out--"I +leave my reputation behind me!" Teleki returned his gaze with the most +nonchalant sangfroid. + +When every one had disappeared, Teleki whispered some words to a page, +who went out and returned in a few moments with a florid, curly-headed +young man. Methinks we have seen this youth somewhere or other before, +though only for an instant which we cannot call to mind. A beggar's sack +hangs down over his ragged clothing, his hand holds a knobby stick. + +"So you permit me at last to approach the Prince?" said he, in a +somewhat dictatorial tone. + +"Sit down here by the door," replied the minister; "the Prince goes to +dinner shortly, and will pass by this way. You can then speak to him." + +The young man with the beggar's sack sat for a long time at the Prince's +door, till Apafi came out of his room on his way to dinner. The beggar +with the knapsack planted himself right in his Highness's way. + +"Who are you?" asked the Prince, much surprised. + +"I am that renowned warrior, Emerich Balassa, who once was one of the +chief men of Hungary, and now stands before your Highness with the +beggar's staff." + +"You were involved, I understand, in that conspiracy against us?" said +Apafi, disagreeably flurried. + +"That I was not, your Highness. If you would deign to listen to my tale, +then----" + +"Speak!" + +"There was once in Hungary a famous Turkish freebooter, named Corsar +Beg, who for a long time ravaged the mountain regions. The banded might +of six counties was insufficient to besiege him in his fortress. This +man I captured by subtlety. By promises and flatteries I won over his +favourite slave, who enticed him out of his stronghold by night and +alone. I, duly advertised thereof, fell upon him with horsemen ambushed +in the woods, and took captive both him and his slave, who is the most +beautiful and the most abandoned of her sex in the whole world." + +"I have heard of you, Master Balassa. It was a daring deed." + +"Listen further, your Highness. No sooner had the news of my capture +spread abroad, than the Palatine of Hungary, very emphatically, insisted +upon my handing over the prisoners to him. The Turks had already offered +me a ransom of sixteen thousand ducats for the pair, but I would not +part with the girl at any price. I therefore sent word to the Palatine +that if he wanted a Beg of his own he must catch one, for I had not +captured mine on his account." + +Apafi laughed heartily. "That was one for him!" + +"Thereupon the Palatine waxed wroth, and by the Emperor's command sent +out troops against me to rob me of my captives. Now just at this very +time, your Highness's brother-in-law, Denis Banfi, had taken refuge in +my castle, and to him I entrusted the slave, of whom I was madly +enamoured. He was to fly with her to my castle of Ecsed, and as I saw +that the Palatine was bent upon securing Corsar Beg for himself in order +to cut off his head at Buda as a warning to all malefactors, I gave the +Turk poison, which he, to escape the scaffold, thankfully accepted. +When, therefore, the troops of the Palatine arrived at my house, all +that they found there was the cold corpse, which the Turks afterwards +purchased from me for a thousand ducats." + +"The Palatine was naturally very angry, I suppose?" remarked Apafi. + +"'Twas I who had cause to be angry, for all through him I lost fifteen +thousand ducats, and yet he succeeded in obtaining an order for my +apprehension from the Emperor. I scented the danger in time, and got +together my valuables in order to fly into Transylvania, and remain +there till the affair had blown over. First of all, then, I hastened to +my castle at Ecsed, whither, as I have said, I had sent Banfi on +beforehand with the Turkish slave. While still on the way, I learnt that +Banfi had been restored by your Highness's amnesty to his former +position. I rejoiced greatly thereat, supposing that I now had in him a +powerful protector. Nevertheless, on reaching Ecsed, I found no sign or +trace of the girl. My castellan there informed me that Banfi had carried +her off with him, and left a letter behind for me, which contained the +following words--'Learn from this, my friend, that there are three +things you should never entrust to another--your horse, your watch, and +your mistress!'" + +"What!" cried Apafi; "is this really true?" + +"Pray let your Highness look at his own writing," and he drew the letter +in question out of his leather knapsack. "He is said to have concealed +the girl somewhere in his forests at Banfi-Hunyad." + +Apafi turned scarlet with rage. + +"'Tis monstrous!" cried he. "This fellow possesses a virtuous and lovely +wife of his own--my consort's own sister--and yet he can so far forget +his duty as a husband! I'll not put up with it!" + +"Pardon me, your Highness; I have nothing more to do with Banfi now. My +complaint is against one Kapi, who had the usufruct of my Transylvanian +property. Not wishing, then, to have anything more to do with Banfi, I +took up my quarters with Kapi at Aranyosi Castle. Your Highness, the +pomp which that man displays exceeds anything that I have ever seen, and +I have seen many princely and palatinal courts in my day. His wife never +uses her feet at all. Even if she wants to get to the door, she is +carried thither in a gilded sedan-chair, and she never wears a dress +more than once!" + +"But what have I to do with the frippery of Dame Kapi?" + +"I'm coming to that. Her love of display costs money, and has compelled +her husband to resort to fraudulent practices. And besides, such +extravagance concerns your Highness also, as tending to emphasize the +contrast already apparent between the frugal simplicity of your +Highness's court and the dazzling pomp of these petty kings--a contrast +which has already made a pretty deep impression upon our foreign +visitors. Thus, quite recently, the Bavarian minister, who had come from +a banquet at Ebesfalva to Aranyosi, remarked in a flattering tone to +Dame Kapi, in my hearing, that she was the real Princess of +Transylvania." + +"He said that, did he?" cried the Prince, becoming much interested. "Go +on with your narrative. So he said that Kapi's wife was the real +Princess, eh?" + +"Yet strip from off her her costly pearls and diamonds, and you will see +that in regard to beauty and majesty she is not fit to lace the shoes of +her Highness the Princess Apafi." + +"Go on! go on!" + +"Well, one fine day this same Kapi came to me, and told me that your +Highness had been commanded by the Palatine to arrest and deliver me +over to him." + +"I receive a command! I know absolutely nothing about it." + +"Unfortunately I believed his words, and imagining myself caught between +two fires, I made over my Transylvanian property to Kapi to save it from +confiscation, he at the same time delivering to me an undertaking to +re-transfer the estates as soon as possible. Meanwhile I resolved to fly +to Poland, and stay there till the storm blew over. Kapi gave me two +guides, who were to conduct me through the mountain-passes to the +frontier; but at the same time he secretly informed the frontier +sentinels that I was a spy sent by the Emperor to explore Transylvania, +and was now desirous of returning unobserved. So the rogues waylaid me, +robbed me of all my money and papers, and dragged me to Fehervar, where +my innocence came to light, but my money and papers were of course +hopelessly lost. And now this Kapi actually maintains that I sold him +all my property, and I've nothing in the world but this leather knapsack +round my neck, with which I must now beg my way about." + +"Be of good cheer. I will give you the most exemplary satisfaction," +returned the enraged Prince. + +"It is a matter which also concerns your Highness's own dignity," +replied Balassa. "These great lords behave in as high-handed a fashion +as if they had absolutely no superior." + +"Be easy. I will very soon show them who is the real Prince of +Transylvania." + +Apafi, full of indignation, then left the audience-chamber. + +A storm was gathering over the heads of two great men who stood in +Teleki's way. + + + + +BOOK II. + +THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE PATROL. + + +Clement the Clerk stuck his pen behind his ear and recited to himself +the elegant verses which he had just composed, two hundred strophes in +all, almost every line of which ended in _fuerat_, with a sporadic +_fuisset_ in between. + +Michael Apafi used regularly to repent whenever he had offended any one, +and he therefore could not rest till he had compensated the itinerant +scholar Clement for the snub he had administered to him, and this he did +by making the unsophisticated poet his----Patrol-officer. + +In those days many agreeable duties were connected with this +office--duties which Clement simply left alone, devoting himself instead +to the composition of epics and chronicles, which he manufactured in +great abundance. + +At that moment he was casting his eyes over a great epic, in which he +recorded how his Highness, Prince Michael Apafi, had gone out against +Érsekújvár to besiege it; how with splendid valour he had arrived there; +how, on beholding the foe, he had drawn his sword; how, after mature +deliberation, he had turned back again; and how, finally, he and all his +heroes had returned home again safe and sound. + +Poetic distraction had so completely absorbed the faculties of Clement +the Clerk, that a week had already elapsed since his servant had made +off with his master's spurred jack-boots, without the latter, in his +capacity of Patrol-officer, thinking of pursuing the runaway; but in +fact he was confined within a vicious circle, inasmuch as every time he +thought of inquiring for his boots, it occurred to him that his servant +had stolen them; and every time he thought of going out and inquiring +for his servant, it occurred to him that he had no boots. What could he +do then under such circumstances but sit down again, and write poems in +absolutely endless quantities? + +His room had not been swept out for weeks, naturally therefore there was +no lack of dust and cobwebs; but, by way of contrast, the deal floor all +around the solitary table was mottled with ink-blots. The table itself +had only two legs, the place of the others being supplied by layers of +bricks. + +The poet scribbles, erases, and nibbles at his pen; on the window-sill +lies a piece of bread and some cheese; it occurs to the poet that it has +been put there for him to eat; but first he must use up the ink still +remaining in his pen, and in doing so another idea occurs to him, and +after that a third, and then a fourth; meanwhile mice come skipping out +of a hole beneath the window-sill, frisk about the bread and cheese, +nibble away at it till not a morsel remains, and then skip back into +their holes again. The poet having wearied out his Pegasus, starts up, +looks for his bread and cheese, and perceiving that only the crumbs +remain on the window-sill, concludes that he has already eaten his fill, +so sits him down again and goes on writing. + +While he is thus plaguing himself for the benefit of posterity, somebody +begins scratching at the door, and after groping about the door-hinge in +search of the door-latch, finds it at last, and shakes it to and fro as +if he does not know what to do with it. This disturbance disagreeably +awakens Clement the Clerk out of his poetic reveries, who, after vainly +exclaiming in a loud and angry voice that the door is not bolted, finds +himself at last obliged to rise from his seat and open the door himself, +lest the importunate visitor should break off the latch or lift the door +bodily from its hinges. + +Before him, with a sealed letter in his hand, stands a gaping Wallach +peasant, who appears extraordinarily terrified to see the door open, +though that was the very thing he had been aiming at all along. + +"Well, what is it?" snapped Clement the Clerk, horribly angry. "Why +don't you speak?" + +The Wallach raised his round eyebrows, which looked, for all the world, +like a charcoal smear extending from his nostrils to his temples, and +which also served him as a kind of propeller for shoving backwards and +forwards the lamb's-wool cap that he wore half over his face, looked at +the poet with wide-open eyes, and asked him-- + +"Are you he whom they pay to tell lies?" + +The Wallach meant no offence by this terminology. It was only his +roundabout way of describing Clement the Clerk's sphere of activity. + +The poet was almost choking with rage. + +"And whose ox are you?" he exclaimed furiously. + +"The ox of his Excellency who sent this letter," he answered with +perfect simplicity. + +"What is your master's name?" cried Clement, angrily snatching the +letter out of the Wallach's hand. + +"They call him Excellency." + +Clement tore open the letter and read as follows--"I want a word or two +with you; follow the bearer whithersoever he leads you." + +Clement was wroth enough already, but the reflection that he was +summoned away on important business, and had no boots to go in, was the +last straw. He was quite beside himself. + +"Go," cried he to the Wallach, "and tell your master, whoever he may be, +that he is as near to me as I am to him; if he wants to speak to me, let +him take the trouble to come hither. Do you understand?" + +"I understand, Dumni Macska" (Mister Pussy), returned the Wallach, +involuntarily using in his fright the nickname secretly given by the +Roumanian peasants to the Patrol-officer when he is making his rounds; +and with that he slouched out of the room. + +Meanwhile Clement, with a great muscular effort, had climbed on to his +high-backed chair again, and placed two huge folios upright on the floor +in front of him, so that his coming visitor might not see that he was +bare-footed. + +In a short time strident, energetic footsteps were audible outside, and +Clement the Clerk, peeping out of the window, perceived to his no small +confusion that his visitor was none other than his Excellency, Count +Ladislaus Csaky, accompanied by two gold-laced heydukes. + +"Clement," thought the clerk to himself, "now's the time to assert your +dignity! No doubt his lordship is a great man and a high; but, on the +other hand, he is in the Prince's bad books, while you, my boy, are in +high favour at court, and a public officer to boot." So he hid his feet +behind his books, stuck his pen between his lips, and when Csaky came in +did not so much as offer him a seat. + +Csaky seemed much put out by this reception. + +"You have a very high opinion of your official dignity," said he to +Clement. + +"I am what I am thanks to the favour of the Prince," returned Clement +haughtily, crossing his arms with an air of importance. + +"I too have come hither by the Prince's command. His Highness has just +entrusted me with a very delicate errand, in which I need your help; but +the affair must be managed with the utmost secrecy, and that was why I +wanted you to come out to me." + +At this explanation Clement the Clerk forgot his dignity altogether. + +"I beg you a thousand pardons," stammered he in great confusion, and +with meekly-bowed head. "I did not know--pray be seated!" As however +there was no other chair in the room but that on which he sat, he sprang +down from it to give place to the Count, thereby revealing the fact that +his feet were minus their legitimate coverings, at which Csaky laughed +till his jaws ached. + +"Why, deuce take it, Mr. Officer, is it from a feeling of excessive +reverence that you take off your boots like the Turks do?" + +"I beg your pardon! I have not taken them off; but my servant ran away +with them while I slept, and that was the sole reason why I was forced +to send your lordship that churlish message, which I hope your lordship +has long since forgotten." + +At this Csaky's mirth became downright uproarious. + +"Well, if that is all, we will soon find a remedy," said he to Clement; +and calling the heydukes, bade them fetch at once his own parade boots +out of his carriage. + +Clement instantly began to raise objections: he could not think of it; +the honour was too great. But when his eyes fell upon the boots, they +took his fancy immediately, for they were made of the finest green +morocco, sewn with gold thread, trimmed on both sides with galloon, and +provided with enamelled spurs. + +"Quick! on with them!" cried Csaky to the Patrol-officer; "for you must +set out upon your journey without delay." + +So Clement the Clerk seized one of the boots by the tags, and after +bestowing a smile upon it, proceeded to pull it on. But this of itself +was no light labour, for Csaky wore very small, tight-fitting, +gentlemanlike boots, whereas Clement the Clerk was a very large-footed +animal; so that it was not till after three desperate struggles had +completely exhausted him that he managed to get one foot half-way down +the leg of the first boot, and all the time he made such grimaces that +Ladislaus Csaky had to put his head out of the window to hide his +merriment. When he got as far as the heel, he stuck fast again, so that +he had to seize the straps with both hands and stamp his way down, +hopping round the room all the while, with his body forming a complete +curve, and groaning aloud at every forward shove; so that by the time he +had wriggled into one boot, the eyes of the poor poet were almost +starting from their sockets, and the sweat trickled from his cheeks. + +Similar difficulties awaited the good Patrol-officer with the second +foot; but after working with six-horse power to force his foot into a +receptacle never intended for it, he was at last able, with the +ruddiness of satisfaction on his cheeks, to take a smiling survey of his +gorgeous, tight-fitting boots, which harmonized so delightfully with the +other dusty, greasy, ink-bespattered constituent parts of his dress. + +"Now, mark what I say!" said Csaky, sitting down with a lordly air on +the solitary chair, whilst the clerk, standing before him, raised first +one and then the other leg aloft, at the same time uttering a peculiar +hissing sound, and turning a livid green and blue in his agony, for the +boots had now begun to play havoc with his corns. "When did you last go +your rounds?" + +"I really don't know." + +"But you ought to know. Why don't you make a note of it? The Prince +wishes you to go your rounds at once, and you must look particularly +sharp after all the places between Toroczko, Banfi-Hunyad, and +Bonczhida. Besides the usual questions, you must ask the people whether +they have seen any foreign wild beast in the surrounding woods." + +"Foreign wild beast?" mechanically repeated the wretched Patrol-officer. + +"And if at any place they tell you they have seen such beast, you must +go personally into the districts indicated, and search till you come +upon its track." + +"I cry your Excellency's pardon! but what manner of beast may it be?" +asked the student timidly. + +"Come, come! don't be afraid! It is neither a seven-headed dragon nor +yet a minotaur, but only a young panther." + +"A panther!" stammered the terrified Clement. + +"You are not expected to catch it," said Csaky cheerily. "You have only +to discover its hiding-place and let me know." + +"And if this wild beast--whose existence indeed in Transylvania I very +much doubt--should stray into the territory of Denis Banfi," asked +Clement, "what am I to do then?" + +"You must go after it." + +"I cry your Excellency's pardon, but his property is a _liber +baronatus_, where my jurisdiction ceases." + +"Don't be so stupid, Clement," said Csaky. "I never said you were to +repair thither _vi et armis_: the whole expedition must remain a secret. +You have only to follow the wild beast's track. We have it, on the best +authority, that the beast is somewhere in the neighbourhood, and we +trust to your dexterity to spot it. The rest will be done by more +enterprising people than yourself." + +Clement regarded the mission as altogether odd and risky, but he dared +not raise any objection, so he simply bowed low and sighed deeply. + +"Above all things we must have dexterity, expedition, and secrecy. Keep +that constantly in mind." + +"I will go at once," cried Clement desperately; "but first I must borrow +me a horse from some one or other, for I should not like to utterly ruin +these beautiful boots by walking in them." + +"That too would be a little too slow for our purpose. But don't bother +your head about a horse. One of my heydukes will give you his, which you +must mount at once. Remember however to give him oats occasionally, as I +don't want him to come back all skin and bone." + +Clement the Clerk, quite confounded by so much graciousness, hastily +shouldered his shabby knapsack, fastened his rusty sword to his side, +and after placing in his knapsack a roll of parchment, a goose-quill, +and a wooden ink-horn, declared himself ready to depart. + +"You have a very light equipment," remarked Csaky. + +"_Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu_," +returned the philosopher with a classical flourish, and when the reins +had been placed in his hands, he prepared to mount. But the aristocratic +charger, as soon as he perceived that the clerk had one foot in the +stirrups, began to plunge, buck, and run round and round, thereby +compelling the aspiring poet to hop along with him on one foot, till the +laughing heydukes seized the horse by the bridle, and helped the +unpractised horseman into the saddle. As however he had very long legs, +and the wicked heydukes had lashed the stirrups up very high, he was +obliged to squat upon the horse as if it had been a camel. + +Ladislaus Csaky bawled after him once more not to forget what he had +told him, whereupon the poet, quite unintentionally, gave his horse the +spur, and dashed madly off at full tilt over stock and stone. Mantle, +sabre, and knapsack flew about the ears of the unfortunate horseman, who +held on to his saddle with both hands in mortal agony, to the intense +delight of the whole population of Toroczko, who were sitting in groups +outside their houses on their _beard-driers_, as the benches used to be +called in those days. + + * * * * * + +First of all the Patrol-officer took the road to Abrudbánya. Formerly, +while he still had a servant, Clement used to leave all the pioneering +to him; but now he was forced to find his way from village to village +himself, with the occasional assistance of the country magistrates. + +He had just quitted the narrow mountain path, and was ambling slowly +over a dilapidated bridge, which spanned a brawling stream, when he +perceived in the thicket a group of dirty-looking men crouching over a +large fire. At first he took them for gipsies, but, approaching nearer, +was horrified to discover that they were Tartars, who had dismounted +from their horses, and were sitting round an ox which they had roasted +whole. + +To turn back was scarcely advisable; but the road he was following went +straight past the diners. Clement was in a fix; but he determined at +last to put a bold face on the matter, so he trotted by the gaping group +with affected nonchalance, pretending to be intent all the while on +calculating the exact number of acorns on the wayside oaks, and merely +raised his hat to the Tartars with a brief "_Salem aleikum!_" when he +came close up to them, as if he only then perceived them for the first +time, passing quickly on without looking once behind him. + +So far all was well, but at that very moment two of the Tartars sprang +up from the fire and called to the rider to stop. Clement, perceiving +that they were both unarmed, argued therefrom that they had no murderous +designs upon him, and therefore halted and awaited them. + +No sooner had the two dog-headed figures come up to him, one on each +side, than they caught hold of his legs and displayed no less an +intention than to rob him of his beautiful boots. + +"Would you? ye sons of Belial!" cried Clement, beside himself with rage, +and grasping the hilt of his sword he tried to pull it from its leather +sheath, in order to cut off the ears of his assailants forthwith. But +the good blade, which had not quitted its sheath for ten years, had +grown so rusty that Clement, despite all his endeavours, could not pluck +it forth, and in the meantime the two Tartars pulled the wriggling rider +hither and thither by the legs, naturally without succeeding in +loosening the tight-fitting boots in the least. The Tartars reviled +Clement, and Clement reviled the Tartars: their language was perfectly +horrible. + +The noise brought the Aga to the spot--an ourang-outang-like object +whose mahogany features were framed by a white beard--and he asked in a +hoarse whisper what was the matter. + +Clement the Clerk at once drew his credentials from the pocket of his +mente, and shook it in the Aga's face--he was too wrathful to +speak--while the Tartars, pointing with frantic gestures at the boots, +jabbered something to the Aga. + +"Who art thou, O bow-legged unbeliever!" asked the Aga, "that thou dost +presume to wear on thy lowest extremities, on thy mud-wading feet, +forsooth! the sacred colour of the Prophet, that radiant green which the +faithful may only behold on the arches of their mosques and on the +turban of the Padishah? Thou shalt be burned alive, thou godless +Giaour!" + +"I am the Patrol-officer of his Highness Prince Michael Apafi!" +declaimed the ex-student, with terrified pathos. "My person is sacred +and inviolable. I am he who provides the host of the sublime Sultan with +meat and drink; I proclaim and collect the taxes, so let me go, for I am +a very important personage." + +This mode of defence pleased the Tartars. The Aga exchanged glances with +his subalterns, as much as to say--"This is the very man we want!" and +addressed him again in a more friendly tone. + +"Dost thou indeed collect the taxes? Look now! my master, Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein, has sent me hither to notify to the people a fresh +imposition. Allah hath clearly brought us together. Thou wilt act +discreetly then by proclaiming the new tax at once. It is no more than +thy duty." + +"I'll do so gladly," replied Clement, who made as if he were going. + +"Stay, my son," said the Aga, beckoning to him. "Thou dost not even know +yet the amount of the new tax. 'Tis a mere trifle, and only imposed by +way of showing that we are the masters here. 'Tis only a farthing per +head. That's not much, I'm sure." + +"Nothing at all!" assented Clement, eager to be off. + +"Not so fast! not so fast!" remonstrated the Aga. "I shall not be best +pleased if thou dost disobey my orders; but as I know that thou dost not +regard it as perjury to break promises made to us, I'll tell off one of +my brave fellows here to accompany thee from village to village, and +take care that thou dost duly proclaim the new tax whithersoever thou +goest." + +"It is well, gracious sir," said Clement meekly, with the mental +reservation of ridding himself of the brave fellow at the very next +village. + +"Mount your horse, Zülfikar," cried the Aga to one of his servants. + +The person addressed was an evil-looking fellow with a malignant squint. +Although just as dirty as the others, it was clear from his physiognomy +that he was not made of the same stuff, and if we condescended to bestow +any thought at all upon such low people, it might even occur to us that +we had seen him somewhere else before. + +"As for thee," said the Aga to Clement, who was anxious to be off at any +price, "take off thy boots as soon as thou gettest home, and if ever I +meet thee with them on again, thou shalt receive from me five hundred +strokes on the soles of thy feet, which thou wilt have cause to +recollect even on thy wedding-day." + +Clement the Clerk said "Yes" to everything, rejoiced that he had got off +at last, and trotted off towards Abrudbánya. His Tartar escort rode +faithfully by his side. + +From time to time the Patrol-officer cast a sidelong glance at his +companion, only quickly to avert his eyes again, for as the Tartar +squinted horribly, Clement could never exactly make out which way he +was looking. Clement was thinking all the while how easily he would give +the Tartar the slip, smiled to himself at the thought, winked with both +eyes, and nodded his head with a self-satisfied air. + +"Mr. Patrol-officer, don't fancy you will circumvent me as you go your +rounds!" exclaimed the Tartar suddenly, in the purest Hungarian, as if +he could read Clement's thought from his face. + +Clement was so aghast that he almost fell from his horse. How the deuce +could the fellow snap up his very thoughts, and speak Hungarian despite +his Tartardom? + +"Don't bother your head about me any more," continued the Turk calmly. +"I am an Hungarian renegade who was once in the service of Emerich +Balassa. I had a hand in the capture and poisoning of Corsar Beg, and +when the Hungarians began to persecute me on that account, I turned +Turk. If the Prophet befriend me, I may yet rise to be Kapudan Pasha. +Pray don't imagine you can bamboozle a wily old fox like me." + +Clement, completely disconcerted, could only scratch his head, proceeded +with his escort from village to village, and after accomplishing his +regular official business, proclaimed the fresh imposition of a farthing +per head, which the people everywhere received most favourably, in many +cases even paying it down at once to his Tartar comrade. + +But no one knew anything about the panther. Indeed, but for the respect +inspired by his gallooned green boots, the Patrol-officer would have +been laughed out of countenance. + +Only one little Wallachian village up in the mountains, called Marisel, +was yet to be visited, and beyond that place began the domains of Baron +Banfi, where the jurisdiction of the Patrol-officer terminated. + +Thither also the renegade followed him. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SANGE MOARTE.[29] + + +The Patrol-officer and his companion had already been travelling for +half the day across the Batrina moor on their way to Marisel. Clement +kept on asking every living soul he met where the village was, and +always received the same answer--"Further on!" + + [Footnote 29: _Sange moarte._ Dead blood (Roumanian).] + +From time to time they met a Wallachian peasant reviling the team of +sluggish oxen spanned to his huge wagon, and vainly endeavouring to make +them quicken their pace; then there were ponds to be waded, where +half-naked gipsy bands, in picturesque rags, were washing gold-dust out +of the sand, and stared at the Tartar as if he were a wild beast; here +and there, in the mossy hollow of a wayside tree, stood an icon, the +pale, weather-worn gilding of which being all that remained of its once +gorgeous colouring; in the worm-eaten niche stood the _pomana_,[30] a +pitcher of pure spring water which the traditional piety of the young +Wallachian maidens had placed there for the refreshment of thirsty +travellers. + + [Footnote 30: _Pomana_, or _pomena_. An alms, a + voluntary free succour. The etymology is obscure. Some + opine that it is a corruption of _per_ and _manus_.] + +The road now went up hill and down dale; for the greater part of the way +they had to lead their horses. All around stood the ever-changing +wilderness; lofty, perpendicular beeches, terebinthine oaks, with an +occasional dark-green pine. At last they reached a point where the road +divided. One branch of it ran right down into the valley, the other +wound obliquely up to the summit of a bald bleak hill, from which a +projecting rock hung down so precipitately that it seemed ready to fall +every moment. + +"Well, whither shall we turn now?" asked Clement, hesitating. "I have +never come so far as this before." + +"Let us follow the road," returned Zülfikar; "none but a fool would risk +his neck up that steep cliff." + +Clement looked about him in great perplexity, and suddenly perceived a +man sitting on the rock which so precipitately overhung the path. It was +a young Wallach with a pale face and long, flowing curls; his sheep-skin +jacket was open at the breast, his cap lay beside him on the ground. +There he sat in a reverie, on the very edge of the lofty rock, with his +feet dangling in empty space, his stony countenance resting on his +hands, and his eyes staring glassily into the remote distance. + +"Hi! you up there! _ungye méra ista via?_"[31] cried Clement, in a +jargon which was half Latin and half Wallachian. + + [Footnote 31: _Ungye méra ista via?_ "Whither goes this + road?" The first two words are Roumanian.] + +The Wallach did not appear to hear the question; he remained in just the +same position, blankly staring and immovable. + +"He is either deaf or dead," said Zülfikar, after they had both bawled +themselves hoarse at him in vain. "The best thing we can do is to follow +the beaten track," and off they set at a trot. The Wallach did not so +much as look after them. + +Evening was drawing nigh, and the road to Marisel seemed absolutely +endless. It went out of one valley into another, without passing a +single human habitation, and the huge boulders and fierce mountain +torrents, which they came upon at frequent intervals, made it almost +impassable. At last they perceived, somewhere in the wood, a fire +burning, and a monotonous chant struck upon their ears. On approaching +nearer, they saw an immense pyre, made of the trunks of trees, burning +in a forest glade, and shaded by oaks, the foliage of which was singed +red by the long tongues of flame which flickered up to their very +summits. + +Not far from the pyre, a band of Wallachs were dancing with savage +gesticulations, striking the ground at the same time with their massive +clubs. Their twirling feet seemed to be writing mystic characters in the +soil, and all the while they brandished their arms and howled forth +metrical curses as if they were exorcising some evil spirit. + +Around the men twined a wreath of young girls, holding one another by +the hand, and twirling in a contrary direction. These young and charming +forms, with their black, plaited tresses interwoven with pearls and +ribbons; their flowered petticoats, cambric smocks, and broad, striped +aprons; their tinkling gold spangles, or strings of silver coins about +their round necks and their tiny, high-heeled shoes, formed a pleasant +contrast to the wild, ferocious figures of the men, with their high +sheepskin hats perched upon their shaggy, unkempt hair, their sunburnt, +naked necks, greasy _köduröns_,[32] broad brass buckles, and large +ox-hide sandals. + + [Footnote 32: _Ködurön._ A rough, fur jacket.] + +Both dance and song were peculiar. The girls, all hand in hand, flew +round the men, singing a plaintive, dreamy sort of dirge, while the men +stamped fiercely on the ground and uttered an intermittent wail. The +fire blazing beside them cast a red glare, intermingled with dark +flitting shadows, on the wild group. Some distance behind, on the stump +of a tree, sat an old bagpiper with his pipes under his arm. The +tortured goatskin's monotonous discord blended with the savage harmony +of the song. + +When the pyre had nearly burnt itself out, the dancers suddenly +dispersed, dragged forward a female effigy stuffed with straw and +clothed in rags, placed it on two poles, and with loud cries of "Marcze +Záre! Marcze Záre!"[33] held it over the fire; then, exclaiming in +chorus--"Burn to ashes, accursed Wednesday-evening witch!" they threw it +into the glowing embers. The girls then danced round the fire with cries +of joy till the witch was burned, when the men, with a wild yell, rushed +among the embers and trod them out. + + [Footnote 33: _Marcze Záre_ = Wednesday witch, hags + possessing peculiar power on Wednesday evenings, + according to the Wallachs.] + +"Who are ye, and what are you doing here?" cried Clement the Clerk to +the Wallachs, who hitherto had not taken the slightest notice of him. + +"We are they of Marisel who have burned Marcze Záre," answered the +peasants unanimously, with the grave faces of men who had just done +something uncommonly wise. + +"Well, be quick about it, and then come back to the village, for I am +here by command of the Prince, my master, to put the usual questions to +you." + +"And I," put in Zülfikar, "am here by command of the mighty Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein to levy a new tax." + +The Wallachs watched the Patrol-officer till he was quite out of sight +without uttering a word; but they shook their fists after him and +exclaimed--"May Marcze Záre take him!" + +Then, with the bagpiper in front, they formed into a long procession and +marched, loudly singing, down towards the distant village. + + * * * * * + +It was a long, straggling, Wallachian hamlet at which the patrollers now +arrived--one house exactly like another; low clay huts with lofty roofs +and projecting eaves, surrounded by quick-set hedges, the doors so low +that one had to stoop in order to enter. Every house consisted of a +single room, in which the whole family, parents and children, goats and +poultry, lived together. At the entrance of the village stood a gigantic +triumphal arch made of marble blocks; over the principal portal was the +torso of a Minerva; on the façade were battle-pieces in high relief, and +beneath them this Latin inscription in large Roman letters--"This town +has been built by the unconquerable Trajan as a memorial of his +triumph!" And behind the arch a heap of wretched clay huts! + +On the capitol of a fallen Corinthian column, in front of the village +dead-house, sits the _prefika_, the oldest old woman in the place, +lamenting with meretricious tears over the dead young maiden who lies +within. On the side of a grass-grown hill close at hand one sees a round +stone building, raised once upon a time, no doubt, in memory of some +Roman hero; but the Wallachian population has turned it into a church, +covered it with a pointed roof, and daubed the interior with hideous +paintings. + +The Patrol-officer called the people together into the church, which was +the only public building in the place. The crowd stood around him, the +old men leaning on their crutches. The blood-red rays of sunset pierced +through the round window-panes, giving a peculiar appearance to the +interior of the venerable edifice, whose walls were daubed all over with +figures of grotesque saints, whom the monstrous fancy of the rustic +artist had provided with scarlet mantles and spurred jack-boots. Amongst +so many pictures of the marvellous, that well-known allegory which +represents Death as a skeleton, dragging off with him a king, a beggar, +and a priest, was not lacking, and scattered among the icons were a few +bandy-legged fiends derisively stretching out their tongues at poor +damned sinners whom they clutched tightly by the hair. + +Behind the iconastasis the priest and the Patrol-officer took their +stand, surrounded by gilded icons and consecrated candles. When Clement +had read his credentials to the people, he called to the village elder, +a tall man with large projecting teeth, to come in front of the +altar-rail, and addressed the following questions to him-- + +"Are there amongst you any sorcerers and magicians who can summon the +devil to their aid?" + +The crowd received this question with an awful whisper, and after a long +pause the magistrate replied-- + +"There was one last year, your worship, a godless villain with blotches +on his neck and body, which were patches stitched on to him by the +devil, for even when we singed them with red-hot irons he did not feel +it. We sent him to the Sanhedrim at Fehervár, where, failing to stand +the water test, he was burnt alive." + +"Are there among you any hags or vampires which injure other people's +children, make knots in men's bowels, ride through the air, colour milk +red, hatch serpents' eggs, or seek for grasses which can make them +invisible, and open barred and bolted doors?" + +This question called forth a hundred different answers. Every one tried +to communicate his own personal experiences to the interrogator; the +younger women in particular pressed upon the Patrol-officer with furious +importunity. + +"One at a time, please," cried Clement, with great dignity. "Let the +magistrate say what he knows." + +"Yes, there used to be an old witch here, worshipful sir," said the +village elder obsequiously. "We called her Dainitsa.[34] She had long +molested mankind, for her eyes were red. She could, when she chose, +bring down such storms upon the village that the wind would take off the +roofs of the houses. Once she brought a hailstorm upon us, and God's +thunderbolt smote the village in three places. Thereupon the women here +grew furious, seized her, and threw her into the pond. But even there +the witch railed upon them and said--'Take heed! You will live to beg of +me the water which you now give me to drink!' Then the women fished up +her dead body from the bottom of the pond, thrust a dart through her +heart, buried her in the valley, and rolled a large stone over her +grave. But the very next year the witch's curse came upon us. Throughout +the summer not a drop of rain fell in our district. Everything was +withered up, and our cattle carried off by the murrain. Dainitsa had +drunk up all the rain and dew. So we went to her grave, bored a large +hole therein, and filled the grave with water till it ran over, shouting +at the same time--'Drink thy fill, accursed hag! but lap not up all our +rain and dew!' And so at last the great drought came to an end." + + [Footnote 34: _Dainitsa._ She who sings in a low voice, + _i. e._ she who mutters spells. From Roumanian _daina_, + which is derived from the Hungarian _danolni_, to + sing.] + +The priest gravely vouched for the accuracy of this narrative, and +Clement made a note of it in his parchment roll. + +Now came the third question. + +"Are there any among you who dare to smoke tobacco, either by cutting up +the leaves into small fragments and putting them in his pipe, or by +roasting them on the fire and inhaling the ascending steam?" + +"There are none, sir!" returned the elder. "We do not know that dish." + +"And do not try to, for whoever is caught in the act will, in accordance +with the law of the land, have the stem of his pipe thrust through his +nose, and be led in that guise all round the market-place." + +The fourth question was this-- + +"Do any of the peasants wear cloth coats, marten-skin kalpags, or +morocco shoes?" + +"Pshaw!" cried the village elder. "Why, our poverty is such that we +never look beyond sheep-skin jackets and leather sandals. What do we +want with coloured cloth and morocco shoes?" + +"Nor must you, for the Estates of the Realm have forbidden the peasantry +to wear the clothes of the gentry." + +Now came the fifth question. + +"Which of you not only acted contrary to the decree of the Diet, that +the peasants should extirpate the sparrows, but even mocked the officers +charged to collect sparrows' heads?" + +The magistrate humbly approached the Patrol-officer. + +"Believe me, worshipful sir; by reason of the great drought and the bad +season, the sparrows have all departed from our district. Tell his +Highness that we have been unable to lay our hands upon a single one all +through the summer." + +"That's a lie!" cried Clement the Clerk fiercely. + +"I speak the truth," persisted the magistrate, seizing Clement by the +hand, and dexterously insinuating two silver marias into his clenched +fist. + +"Well, it is not impossible," said the Patrol-officer, somewhat +mollified. + +Last of all came the question-- + +"Has any among you seen foreign beasts of prey, or other strange +animals, straying about in these regions?" + +"Of a truth, sir, we have seen lots of them." + +"And what sort of beasts were they?" asked Clement, with joyful +curiosity. + +"Well, dog-headed Tartars!" + +"You fool, I don't mean that sort of beast. I want to know whether any +one, in strolling through these woods, has come upon a four-footed beast +of prey, a creature with a spotted skin? You know very well you have +left no hole or corner unexplored, for even now you are hunting after +the hidden treasures of Decebalus." + +The magistrate shook his head incredulously, glanced at the crowd, and +said, with a shrug of his shoulders-- + +"We have seen no such wondrous beast; but haply Sange Moarte has seen +it, for he in his mad moods roams incessantly through woods and +hollows." + +"And where then is this Sange Moarte? You must call him hither." + +"Alas! sir, he is difficult to catch; he seldom comes to the village. +But perhaps his mother is here." + +"Here she is! here she is!" cried several peasants at once, pushing +forward an old woman with sunken cheeks, whose head was wrapped round in +a white cloth. + +"What mad name is this you have given to your son?" cried the +Patrol-officer; "whoever heard of calling a man 'Dead blood'!" + +"'Twas not I, sir, who gave him this name," said the old Wallachian +woman with a broken voice. "The villagers call him so because he is +never seen to laugh or speak to any one, or answer when he is spoken to. +He did not even weep for his father when he died; nor has he ever +visited the girls in the spinning-rooms, but wanders about incessantly +in the woods." + +"All right, all right, old lady; but that has nothing to do with me." + +"I know it, sir, I know that it does not concern you; but I must tell +you that the pretty Floriza, the belle of the village, was in love with +my son. There was not a lovelier maiden in all Wallachia. Such black +eyes, such locks reaching down to her feet, such rosy cheeks, such a +slim waist were not to be found anywhere else. And then she was so +diligent, and she loved my son so dearly! In her chest she had sixteen +embroidered chemises which she herself had woven and spun, and round her +neck she wore a string of two hundred silver and twenty gold pieces. +Sange Moarte never so much as looked at the girl. Vainly did Floriza +make him posies, he would not put them in his hat; vainly did she give +him kerchiefs, he would not wear them in his breast. Whenever he passed +by, the girl would sing such beautiful songs as she sat by the hearth; +but Sange Moarte for all that did not linger at her threshold, and yet +she loved him so dearly. Often she said to him, when they met together +in the lane--'Thou dost never come to see me; perchance thou wouldst not +even look at me if I were dead?' Sange Moarte replied--'Then indeed I +would look at thee.'--'Then I will soon die,' said the maiden +sorrowfully. 'And then will I also visit thee,' said Sange Moarte, and +went his way. Does all this weary you, good sir? I shall soon have done. +Pretty Floriza lies dead. Her heart broke for grief. There she lies on +her bier; the funereal _armindenu_[35] stands in front of the house. +When Sange Moarte sees it he will know that Floriza is dead, and will +come forth from the woods to look upon his dead sweetheart, as he +promised her, for he always keeps his word. Then you can speak with +him." + + [Footnote 35: _Armindenu._ A green branch placed in + front of houses on the 1st of May and at funerals. + Compare Latin _Alimentale_.] + +"Very well, old lady," said Clement, who had suddenly become serious, +and was almost angry to find something very like poetry among rude +peasants, who had certainly never read Horace's _Ars Poetica_. "You must +watch for the lad's return, and let me know." + +"'Twere better you went yourself, sir," said the old woman, "for I +scarcely think he will answer a single question put to him by any one +else." + +"Be it so! Lead me thither!" cried the Patrol-officer; and the whole +assembly proceeded towards the mortuary, which stood at the extreme end +of the village. + +This end of Marisel is so far distant from the church, that night had +fallen before the crowd had reached it. + +The moon came from behind the mountains. Round about the house stood +pine trees, through the sombre foliage of which the evening star +shimmered faintly. In the distance sounded the melancholy notes of some +pastoral flute. In front of the little white house the hired mourner was +sobbing loudly. The wind agitated the crape-hung branches of the +_armindenu_. Inside the house lay the corpse of the beautiful young +maiden awaiting her truant lover. The moonbeams fell upon her pale +countenance. + + * * * * * + +The mob surrounded the mortuary, crept stealthily on tip-toe into the +courtyard, peeped through the window, and whispered-- + +"Look! There he is! there he is!" + +The Patrol-officer, the priest, the magistrate, and Sange Moarte's +mother entered the room. + +Right across the threshold lay the girl's father dead drunk; he got so +tipsy yesterday from sheer sorrow that he will need all to-day and all +to-morrow to sleep it off. In the middle of the room stood the pine-wood +coffin, bedaubed with glaring roses fresh from the brush of a rural +artist; within it lay the girl (she was only sixteen), her beautiful +forehead encircled by a funereal wreath. A wax taper had been placed in +one of her hands, in the other she held a small coin. At the head of the +coffin burned two handsome wax candles stuck into a jar containing +gingerbreads; at the foot of the coffin, in a gaudily-painted, +high-backed chair, staring blankly at the girl's face, sat Sange Moarte. + +The pious superstition of the priest and the magistrate would not let +them cross the threshold; but Clement stepped up to the lad, and +immediately recognized in him the man on the rock who would not tell him +the way. + +"Hi, young man! So you are he who has the bad habit of never replying to +people when they address you, eh?" + +The person thus addressed justified the question by not answering it. + +"Now hearken and answer my question. I am the Patrol-officer. D'ye +hear?" + +Sange Moarte remained speechless, with his eyes fixed all the time on +Floriza. He was as motionless as the corpse itself, and scarcely seemed +to breathe. His good old mother tenderly took him by the hand and called +him by his proper name. + +"Jova, my son! answer the gentleman. Look at me, I am your mother." + +"In the name of my master, the Prince, I command you to answer me!" +cried the Patrol-officer, raising his voice. + +The Wallach still remained silent. + +"I ask you if, in the course of your sylvan ramblings, you have seen any +sort of foreign wild beast, to wit a yellow, speckled monster, which the +learned call a panther?" + +Sange Moarte gave a start, as if suddenly aroused out of a deep sleep. +His glassy eyes flashed and sparkled as he looked at his interrogator, a +feverish scarlet flushed his cheeks, and he stammered tremulously-- + +"I have seen it, seen it, seen it." + +And with that he covered his eyes, so as not to look upon the dead body. + +"Where have you seen it?" asked the Patrol-officer. + +"Far, far away," whispered the Wallach; then he became dumb once more +and buried his forehead in his hands. + +"Name the place. Where is it?" + +The Wallach looked timidly around. A cold shudder ran through him, and +with fearful, rolling eyes he whispered to the Patrol-officer-- + +"In the Gradina Dracului."[36] + + [Footnote 36: _Gradina Dracului_. Garden of the Devil + (Roumanian).] + +The priest and the magistrate immediately crossed themselves thrice, and +the latter gazed devoutly on a mural St. Peter, as if to invoke his help +on this occasion. + +"You seem to me a plucky lad, to venture to approach the Devil's +Garden," said the Patrol-officer. "Will you guide me thither?" + +The Wallach nodded, with a joyful look. + +"In the name of St. Michael and all the Archangels I implore you, sir, +not to go," interrupted the priest. "Of all who have visited the Devil's +Garden, not one has ever been known to come back. A truly devout person +would turn his back upon it. It is only this man's sinfulness that has +led him thither." + +Clement scratched his head. + +"I don't go there for the pleasure of the thing," said he. "Not that I +fear the name of the place, but because I object to scaling mountains. +In my official capacity, however, I have no choice." + +"Then at least stick a consecrated willow-twig in your cap," urged the +anxious pastor, "or take with you a picture of St. Michael, that the +devil may not come near you." + +"Thank you, my brothers; but it would be much more to the point if you +provided me with a pair of sandals, for I cannot go clambering over the +mountains in these spurred boots. I regret too that your amulets are +thrown away upon me, for I am a Unitarian." + +The priest crossed himself once more, and said with a sigh-- + +"I fancied you were orthodox, because you were so zealous about the hags +and witches." + +"I only did that officially. Send my Turk hither." + +As he went out the priest murmured to himself-- + +"Birds of a feather! A nice pair of heretics!" + +"Comrade Zülfikar," cried Clement to the Turk, as he tied on his +sandals, "you can find the rest of your way by yourself, for I must take +a side spring into the mountains." + +"If you spring, I will spring too," replied the distrustful renegade. +"Whithersoever you go, thither will I go also." + +"My dear fellow, there is nothing to be pocketed on the road that I am +about to take, except perhaps the devil, for man has never set his foot +there." + +"What do I care! My orders are to go along with you till I return to the +point from whence I started." + +"So much the better, then; I shall have the pleasure of your company. +But pray help me to draw my sword, so that I may be able to defend +myself in case of need." + +"So you carry a sword which requires two men to draw it! Well, let's +look at it," and with that the two men planted their legs one against +the other, grasped the sword with both hands, and tugged away at it for +a long time, till at last it flew out of its sheath so suddenly that +Clement the Clerk nearly fell sprawling. + +Clement then called for a jar of honey, rubbed the rusty blade all over +with the viscid stuff, and stuck it back into its sheath. + +"And now let us be off, young man," said he to the Wallach, who hastily +took his cap and a small axe from the ground, and went out without once +looking behind him. + +His mother seized him by the hand-- + +"Wilt thou not first kiss thy dead sweetheart?" + +Sange Moarte did not even turn his head round, but drew his hand out of +his mother's and went with the two strange men towards the darkening +woods. + +All that night the adventurers were traversing a deep dell. Gigantic +perpendicular rocks rose up on each side of them, only above their heads +shimmered a narrow streak of starry sky. + +Towards morning they found themselves among the Carpathian Alps. + +It was a dazzling spectacle. In the distance diamond-peaked crystal +mountains covered with white snow-fields, striped here and there by +dark-green lines of pine forest. Close beside them is a basalt rock, +consisting of angular columns as large as towers, standing side by side +like the pipes of a gigantic organ, with their summits crowned by +wreaths of round trees. A white, semi-transparent cloud floats across +this rock, hiding all but its summit and its base. From time to time a +lightning-flash darts from this cloud, and the reverberated echoes of +the thunder-peals resound like long-drawn-out chords from this majestic +organ of Nature's own workmanship. + +Over yonder, a mountain chasm suddenly comes into view, where two rocky +fragments, whose rugged surfaces seem to exactly correspond, stand face +to face. Through this rocky chasm, many hundred feet below, rushes a +stray branch of the icy Szamos, disappearing among the thick oak woods +which cover its banks. + +In one place the rocks form a flight of steps, steps never fashioned for +the foot of man, for each of them is as high as a tower; in another +place the rocky boulders are piled one on the top of the other, in such +a way that if the undermost block were disturbed, the whole of the +enormous mass would fall into a differently-shaped group. + +Everything indicates that here the dominion of the world and of man +ends. Not a single human habitation is visible from the dizzy heights; +even vegetation is rare and scanty; on every side bald rocks and gaping +chasms, among which the mountain torrents toss and tumble; only the wild +goat is there to be seen leaping from crag to crag. + +"Which is the way now?" asked Clement of his guide, casting an anxious +glance at his surroundings, in which the possibility of hopelessly +losing oneself was more than probable. + +"Trust only to me," said Sange Moarte, and he guided them through the +uninhabited wilderness with the unerring precision of instinct. In +places where it seemed impossible to go a step further, he always found +a path. He recollected every root or shrub which could serve as a +support to clamberers down the mountain side; every fallen tree which +spanned the abyss, every narrow ledge which could only be passed by +bending forward over the precipice and holding fast behind to the +fissures of the rock, was familiar to him; in short he seemed quite at +home in this interminable labyrinth. + +"We are near," he cried suddenly, after clambering up a steep rocky wall +and surveying the horizon; then he held out his hands to his companions +and drew them up after him. + +A new spectacle then presented itself. + +The opposite slope of the rocky ridge which they had just ascended was +perfectly smooth and shiny, and encompassed the whole region in a +semi-circle, forming a sort of basin, at the very bottom of which--and +it was six hundred feet deep--lay a little mountain lake, the dark-green +waters of which perpetually boiled and bubbled, though not a breath of +air was stirring: perhaps it felt the ebb and flow of ocean. The +opposite side of the rocky basin was formed by a gigantic chain of +mountains, fringed only at its base by fir trees, and at the point where +the two mountain systems met, a small stream in a deep bed trickled into +the little mountain lake. The masses of ice which had fallen into the +valley formed a crystal vault over this stream. + +"Whither are we going?" asked Clement, aghast. + +"To the source of that brook," returned Sange Moarte. "It has dug its +way through the ice, and by following its course we shall come to the +place we seek." + +"But how are we to get there? This rocky slope is as smooth as a mirror; +if a man begins sliding down it there is no stopping till he plumps into +the lake." + +"You have only to take care. We must lie on our backs and glide down +sideways. Here and there you will find a tuft of Alpine roses to cling +on to. But you've nothing to fear if you slide down barefoot. Do as I +do." + +A hair-bristling pastime truly! + +Taking off their sandals they held on by their hands and feet to the +smooth, shelving, stony wall, at the foot of which lay the +darkly-gleaming, fathomless lake. + +They had already slided half-way down the incline, when from the +mountain opposite arose a muffled, mysterious roar. They felt the cliff +on which they lay quaking beneath them. + +"Ha! stay where you are," cried Sange Moarte, looking back at them. "An +avalanche from the mountain opposite is approaching." + +And at the very next moment they could see a white ball descending from +the immeasurably distant heights, plunging with mad haste down the +mountain slope, tearing away with it whole masses of rock and uprooted +pines, swelling every moment into a more tremendous bulk, and dashing +down the decline in leaps of two hundred feet at a time into the valley +below. + +"Heaven defend us!" cried the terrified Clement, clutching his guide +with one hand and holding on to the rock with the other. "It is coming +this way, and will overwhelm us all." + +"Keep still," cried Sange Moarte, seeing them inclined to clamber up +again and thus expose themselves to the danger of a fall. "The avalanche +will take the direction of that block of rock standing in its way, and +will there either stop or disperse." + +And indeed they could see that the snow-slip, now grown colossal, was +making for a projecting point of rock which was dwarf-like in +comparison. Every other sound was lost in the thunder of the avalanche. + +And now the huge snow-ball bounded upon the obstructive rock, and fell +prone across it with a terrific thud, which shook the whole mountain to +its very base. + +For a moment the whole region was enveloped in a cloud of steam-like +snow-spray, and after the final crash the thunder of the avalanche +ceased. But immediately afterwards it began again with a frightful +crackling; the weight of the snowy mass had uprooted the obstructing +rock, and whirling down with it in dizzy rotations, plunged +perpendicularly into the lake below. + +The agitated lake, lashed out of its basin on both sides, rose in an +enormous wave, three hundred feet high, up to the very spot where the +bold climbers were clinging to the naked rock, and after poising in the +air for a second, like a huge transparent green column, broke and fell +back into the lake, which very slowly subsided. + +"Now we will go on our way," said Sange Moarte. "The rock is moist now, +and the descent will be all the easier." + +After the lapse of half-an-hour, the wanderers found themselves at the +mouth of a stream. + +A wondrous corridor lay open before them. The brook sprang from a hot +spring, which, after racing down the deep valleys, buried itself beneath +icebergs and snowdrifts. But the hot water had bored a passage through +the ice, constantly melting the frozen mass around it with its warm +stream, so that only the thick outermost layer remained, which, +constantly renewed by the cold air without, and as constantly dissolved +by the hot stream within, grew into a sort of transparent crystal arcade +with huge dependent glittering stalactites above the stream. + +Through this channel Sange Moarte now led his companions. + +Clement could not but call to mind the fabulous fairy palace where +spellbound mortals only see the light of day through transparent waters. + +Wading thus in the bed of the stream, they reached a point where the +bright arcade began to grow dark. Its transparent roof grew thicker and +thicker, passing gradually into an ever deeper blue, till at last it +became quite black, and the murmuring of the stream was the wanderers' +only guide. As they advanced, with their hose tucked up to their knees, +into the ever-darkening darkness, they felt the water getting hotter and +hotter, till at last they heard a hissing sound and saw once more the +daylight streaming through the rocky chasm, through which the brook +rushed down into its subterraneous cave. + +Here, with the help of some dangling shrubs, they scaled the hillside to +avoid the onslaught of the boiling spring, and after a brief exertion +found themselves on the other side of the mountain, in a deep, well-like +valley. + +This is the _Gradina Dracului_. + +It is a perfectly round dell, shut in on every side by a wall of +perpendicular cliffs more than six hundred feet high. Whoever wishes to +look down from above, must approach the edge of the rock lying on his +stomach, and even then must have a good head not to be seized by +vertigo. At the bottom of this dell the flowers have an amaranthine +bloom. When the snow is falling thickly all around, and the ice is +sparkling everywhere else, here in the depths of the hardest winter may +then be seen those dark-green flowers with broad, indented petals, and +those little round-leaved trees the like of which are to be met with +nowhere else in this district. Just at this time too the leather-leaved +_Nymphaea_ opens its light-yellow calices here; the grass, both summer +and winter, is of the brightest green; and the wild laurel climbs high +up into the crevices of the rocks, and casts its red berries down into +the valley, when Nature all around is cold and dead. + +Throughout the winter this dell is clothed with the rarest flowers. +Therefore the Wallach calls it "the Devil's Garden," and fears to +approach it. + +But the whole wonder has quite a natural cause. + +In the depth of the dell a hot mineral spring bubbles up in a cave, +never coming to light, but soaking all the circumambient soil through +and through, and it is because these warm waters possess a flora of +their own that these unknown shrubs and flowers are for ever blooming in +the neighbourhood of the vivifying element. The whole thing is a +splendid open-air orangery in the midst of snowstorms and icebergs. + +Sange Moarte beckoned to his comrades to follow him. A feverish +impatience possessed him, and when he had advanced a few steps into the +cavern, he pointed with trembling hand at a dark recess, in which an +iron door was visible. + +"What is it?" cried Clement, clutching his sabre. "Does anybody dwell +here?" + +"Yes," rejoined Sange Moarte (his blood at that moment seemed to be on +fire, and the veins of his temples stood out like cords). "There, in +that water-basin, she is wont to bathe. There have I watched her, from +day to day, without ever daring to approach her," stammered he, in a +whisper that was scarcely audible, but full of the most passionate +ardour. + +"Who?" asked the Patrol-officer, much amazed. + +"Oh! the fairy," stammered the Wallach, with trembling lips, and he +buried his glowing head in his hands. + +"What's all this about?" said Clement, turning to Zülfikar. "'Tis not a +fairy that I'm after but a panther!" + +"Pst! a key is turning in the lock," cried Zülfikar. "Away back into the +dark cave!" + +The two men had to drag Sange Moarte away from the iron gate, which a +moment afterwards opened noiselessly, and a girlish form stepped forth +leading a panther by a golden chain. + +Sange Moarte was right in calling her a fairy. + +Before them stood a dazzlingly beautiful woman in oriental _déshabillé_. +Her locks were enveloped in a red fez, the long gold tassels of which +fell across her white turban over her pale face; her ivory-smooth +shoulders gleamed forth from the sleeves of her short, +ermine-embroidered kaftan; her eyes sparkled in the dark; every movement +of her lithe body was serpentine, fascinating, maddening. + +The three men held their breath. The girl passed by without observing +them. + +"Ah, that is she," whispered Zülfikar in amazement, when she had gone. + +"Who? Do you know her?" asked Clement. + +"It is Azrael, Corsar Beg's former favourite." + +"What a place for her to be in!" + +"Pst! she'll hear us." + +Meanwhile the girl had reached the basin where the subterraneous waters +poured their mingled flood, sat down on a stone bench, and commenced to +unwind her turban. Her jasper-black hair fell down over her shoulders. + +Sange Moarte's hot panting resounded through the darkness. + +The panther lay quietly at his mistress's feet, his shrewd head resting +on his front paws. + +Azrael now removed her bright Persian shawl from her slim waist, and +next prepared to slip off her light kaftan, taking a couple of steps +towards a projecting rocky buttress which hid her from the eyes of the +watchers. + +Sange Moarte was about to rush after her. It was all the two men could +do to hold him back. + +"Are you mad?" growled Zülfikar in his ear. "Would you betray us with +your infernal curiosity?" + +"The poor devil is in love with the girl!" whispered Clement. + +At that moment there came the sound of a splash, as of some one leaping +into the water and playing with its waves. + +Sange Moarte frantically tore himself loose from his companions' arms, +and with a furious yell rushed towards the basin. + +At this yell Azrael, in all the maddening witchery of her charms, sprang +out of her watery mirror, looked at the presumptuous wretch with +flashing eyes, and cried savagely-- + +"Oglan! Seize him!" + +The panther had hitherto remained motionless; but the moment his +mistress called him to battle, he sprang up with a roar, seized the +young Wallach, and threw him with a single jerk to the ground. + +Sange Moarte did not think of defending himself against the savage +beast, but stretched out his hands imploringly towards the odalisk; +drank in her loveliness with thirsty looks; writhed closer to her, and, +weeping and groaning, fell down at her feet, while Azrael stared wildly +at him, threw her mantle hastily around her, and watched her darling +panther tear to pieces the youth who had never loved any one in his life +in order that he might love her to the death. + +"I'll go and help him!" cried Clement, mad with horror, and drawing his +sword. + +"Softly! Don't be a fool! Besides, we have something better to do. The +iron gate remains open; let us creep in while the lady is otherwise +engaged, and find out what there is here; that will interest our masters +very much, especially mine." + +With that the two men crept through the iron door, groped their way +along the narrow passage which seemed to have been cut out of the naked +rock, and discovered at the end of it, by the light of a lamp hanging +from the roof, several small doors to the right and left. They opened +one door after the other, but only found empty rooms with no further +outlets. At length a glimpse of the outer world reached them through one +of the windows. They hastened forward in that direction, and coming upon +a second iron door passed through it, and found themselves in a large +courtyard surrounded by high walls, one of which they scaled, and beheld +from the top of it the valley of the cold Szamos stretching far and wide +before their eyes. Soon after they discovered a footpath which led them +from the wall to the woodlands below, and off they set running, and +never drew breath till they had safely reached the bottom. It was only +then that the two men ventured to stop and look each other in the face. +Clement fancied he still heard the wildly musical voice of the fair +demoniac, the roaring of the panther, and the death-shrieks of the young +Wallach. + +"We may as well go on now," remarked Zülfikar, "for to return the way we +came without a guide is impossible, and we are bound to come out +somewhere." + +And, indeed, they soon came upon two wood-cutters, who were fastening +their raft to the river's bank. + +"What is that castle yonder?" asked Clement. + +The men stared at him. + +"Where? What castle?" + +Clement looked behind to show it to them, and behold! nowhere was +anything to be seen with the remotest resemblance to a castle, nothing +but rocks, each the counterpart of the other. The Wallachs laughed +aloud. + +"It were better not to mention it to them," said Zülfikar. "They look +as if they do not know what is going on under their very noses. But +we'll mark the place. Nothing but rocks are visible from the outside, +the brushwood conceals the very opening through which we got into the +open air." + +So the wanderers inquired their way; returned to Marisel, where they +naturally did not stop to be questioned about Sange Moarte, but mounted +their steeds and rode off. + +Zülfikar wanted Clement to go on with him to Banfi-Hunyad. The +Patrol-officer, however, declined to trespass on Denis Banfi's domains, +so the Turk went on alone to levy the new tax, though Clement prophesied +that he would receive more kicks than halfpence. + + * * * * * + +Clement duly informed Ladislaus Csaky of what he had seen, and received +one hundred ducats for his discovery, to say nothing of the green +top-boots. + +Zülfikar fared much more strangely. + +On arriving at Grosswardein, he gave the tribute-money to Ali Pasha, +informing him at the same time of all that he had found out about +Azrael. + +This girl, when only thirteen years old, had been carried off from Ali +Pasha's harem by Corsar Beg. Ali, her original possessor, had promised a +reward of two hundred ducats to whomsoever should discover the +whereabouts of his favourite. + +Zülfikar on quitting the Pasha had in his hand a purse of two hundred +ducats. This came to the ears of the Aga, Zülfikar's superior officer, +who straightway picked a quarrel with the renegade, and condemned him to +one hundred strokes of the bastinado, unless he preferred redeeming each +stroke with a ducat. + +"I won't do that," returned Zülfikar, "but I'll hand over to you the +gift which Denis Banfi sent to Ali Pasha when I told him he was to pay +the new tax. Give it to the Pasha, and I'll wager he'll so reward you +that you'll remember it all your life." + +The Aga greedily caught at the offer, took charge of the +carefully-sealed casket which Zülfikar himself ought to have handed to +the Pasha, and presented it to his Excellency with the following +respectful salutation-- + +"Behold, most gracious Pasha, I bring you that princely gift which Lord +Denis Banfi has sent you in lieu of taxes." + +Ali Pasha seized the casket, cut through the silken cords, broke the +seal, and took off the cover, when lo! a horrible, shrivelled pig's +tail fell out of it on to his kaftan--the direst, most abominable +outrage which can befall a Mussulman! + +Ali Pasha in his fury sprang almost up to the ceiling, and throwing his +turban to the ground, immediately ordered that the Aga, who stood rooted +to the spot with horror, should be impaled outside the camp. + +But Zülfikar went gaily on his way with the two hundred ducats in his +pocket. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. + + +There was a great commotion at Bonczhida Castle. The lord of the manor, +Denis Banfi, was expected home from Ebesfalva. The castle gates (on the +midmost panel of which blazed a huge family coat-of-arms between the +claws of two golden lions rampant) were overshadowed by green branches +and bravely-coloured banners; in the street, the school-children, in +gala costume, were drawn up in a long line headed by their teachers; +further back, with bright Sunday faces, stood the vassals; and, +marshalled in front of the hillock which marked the bounds, the mounted +gentry of the County of Klausenburg, some eight hundred horsemen or so, +all of them stalwart, sturdy forms, armed with morning stars and good +broad-swords, had come out to meet their leader, the Marshal of the +Nobility. + +On the bastions are to be seen Banfi's own soldiers, consisting of about +six hundred mail-clad heroes, with long Turkish muskets and Scythian +helmets. On the walls facing the Szamos six mortars are placed. A few +yards further off a coal fire is burning, at which the cannoneers are +heating the ends of their long iron staves so as to use them as +linstocks. + +At every gate, at every buttressed window, stand a couple of pages in +crimson dolmans and tightly-fitting, cornflower-blue hose, richly +garnished with silver-embroidered lace. + +At the window of the highest donjon sits the castellan, ready to +proclaim the arrival of his liege lord by the blast of a horn. Over his +head the wind is wrestling with a gigantic purple banner, the huge +dependent gold tassels of which it can only raise with difficulty. + +Out of all the windows, inquisitive domestics and expectant knights and +dames peep forth, or rather, out of all the windows but three, which +are altogether bare of festal groups, for there nothing is to be seen +but fragrant jasmines and quivering mimosas in snow-white porcelain +vases, behind which one can dimly distinguish a pale and delicate form +leaning dreamily on the embroidered window-cushions. This is Denis +Banfi's wife. + +It might have been ten o'clock in the morning when the castellan, +perceiving clouds of dust on the highway, announced the approach of his +Excellency with a blast of his horn, whereupon the roar of the mortars +scared every one into his proper place; the priests and teachers +reviewed their pupils, the officers marshalled their troops, and the +trumpeters on the ramparts played the latest marches. + +Shortly afterwards the Lord-Lieutenant arrived, escorted by the banderia +of half-a-dozen counties. Before and behind him trotted squadrons of +horsemen, whose arms and caparisons gleamed with all the colours of the +rainbow. There were to be seen horses of every race and every +hue--Arabian stallions, Transylvanian full-bloods, little Wallachian +ponies, slim English racers, and light-footed Barbary steeds. There were +horses with flesh-coloured manes, jewelled bits, variegated reins, and +embroidered schabracks. There were all the weapons with which the art of +war was then familiar--the slender Damascus blade, the toothed +morning-star, the curved _csakany_,[37] the serpentine crease, and those +long, gorgeously-fashioned fire-arms which could seldom be discharged +more than once; here and there, too, was visible a specimen of those +three-edged, six feet long Turkish scimitars, which were just then +coming into vogue. + + [Footnote 37: _Csakany._ An ancient weapon, half hook, + half battle-axe, of Tartar origin.] + +Each squadron brought its banner, on which the arms of the respective +counties were gaily embroidered, and sturdy standard-bearers bore them +aloft on their saddle-bows. In front of the martial bands rode their +captain, George Veer, a muscular man of about forty, with a +grey-speckled beard, stiffly waxed moustaches, and sun-burnt face. A +stately heron's plume, fastened by an opal agraffe, waved from his +marten-embroidered kalpag; his gorgeous bearskin was held together in +front by a gold chain as broad as a man's hand, set with gems. +Chrysolites as large as filberts gleamed, instead of eyes, in the bear's +head looking over his shoulder; his body was encased in a coat of silver +mail, sewn with gold stars, through which his dark-blue dolman was +visible. His crooked scimitar with its golden hilt well became the hand +which held it, and from his saddle-bows peeped forth the menacing +muzzles of a pair of pistols, the mechanism of which was about as simple +as the mechanism of a modern steam-engine. + +The Lord-Lieutenant himself sat in an open carriage, drawn by five black +horses, with rose-coloured, gilded harness; both panels of the carriage +door bore the Banfi crest, gorgeously painted on a gold ground; behind +stood two hussars with silver-embroidered mantles and white heron +plumes. + +With haughty dignity Denis Banfi sits back on the velvet cushions of his +coach; all the pomp and splendour which surrounds him suits him well. +His glossy locks leave bare his high forehead, which, together with his +fine, frank eyes, bespeaks infinite good-nature, while the bold curve of +the bushy eyebrows and the peculiar cut of the thin lips indicate a +violent temper. The whole face seems to be constantly under the +influence of these hostile emotions. At one moment it is mild, smiling, +rosy; at another savage, grim, and suffused by a dark purple flush. The +traces of noble enthusiasm and of unbridled fury are impressed upon his +face side by side just as they are in his heart. + +The martial squadrons present arms; the school-children chant hymns; the +vassals wave their hats; the music resounds from the battlements; the +clergymen deliver addresses; and all the guests flutter their kerchiefs +and their kalpags at him from the windows, and Banfi receives all these +demonstrations of respect with his usual majestic dignity and +condescension, with the air of a man who feels that all this sort of +thing belongs to him of right. Meanwhile his eyes glance up at those +three windows concealed behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering +mimosas, and his face grows graver and sadder when he perceives no one +behind them. + +From the window of another room there looks down a very tall old man in +a long clerical surtout with small buttons. Since losing his teeth his +chin has moved closer to his nose, which makes his nose look a long way +from his eyes. He seems to be taking no part whatever in the general +rejoicings. By his side leans a lady in mourning, wearing a black velvet +_haube_; rage and contempt are unmistakably visible in her countenance. +Near these two stands Master Stephen Nalaczi with folded arms, +surveying the whole procession with a droll, sarcastic smile. + +"Just look, your Reverence," says the lady in widow's weeds to the +grey-headed clergyman. "Did ever prince lord it with the pomp and +splendour of this simple Baron? I have been at coronations, +installations, inaugurations, triumphal ovations, but never, never have +I seen anything like the homage paid to this private man. If they +rendered it to a prince it might pass, but who, forsooth, is this Denis +Banfi? Why, a simple nobleman--just such a one as we are, except that he +is full of arrogance and pretence. All this princely splendour does not +belong to him _de jure_. Oh! well do I know the meaning of the word +_jus_; for I have all my life been before the courts against greater +lords than he." + +"How my reverend colleagues press forward to kiss his hand," murmured +Martin Kuncz (for that was the clergyman's name). "Ei! ei! Look now, at +my learned colleague Gabriel Csekalusi, how radiantly he hastens forward +to assist his Excellency out of his carriage!--and he is right, for +Denis Banfi is the visible providence of the Calvinists. But for poor, +vagabond Unitarian ministers like me, the place behind the door is good +enough." + +"But just look! just look! how the worthy _armalists_[38] raise him on +high and carry him on their shoulders to the door. 'Tis well they do not +set him on a litter like a sovereign prince--as if, forsooth, feeding +them at his table made him their lord and master!" + + [Footnote 38: _Armalists._ Noblemen who could show + _literae armales_ in support of their nobility.] + +"Nay, but, Madame Saint Pauli, pray let the good people do him homage if +they like," interrupted Nalaczi with a sneer. "Wait a bit. The greeting +I have in reserve for him will add salt to the soup! It will bring my +lord to his senses, I warrant you!" + +Meanwhile Banfi is mounting the steps, and the crowd, pouring after him, +forces its way in at the same time, and carries the Baron on its +shoulders right up to the daïs at the end of the room. The clergymen +squeeze their way through the surging mob into their proper places, not +without being mercilessly mauled on the way; while George Veer, with +respect-inspiring elbows, carves a road for himself through the mob up +to the very seat of the Lord-Lieutenant. The room is already crammed +full with as many of the gentry as it will hold, the remainder block +the corridors. The vassals remain, perforce, in the courtyard, and hear +nothing of what is going on but the hubbub which reaches them through +the windows, and seems to delight them amazingly. + +"My noble friends," said Banfi, when there was at last something like +silence, and his eye had taken in every one present, "it was not without +good cause that I invited you to come to my house _armed_. You know +right well from the past history of our poor fatherland, how much our +nation has suffered because our Princes, either discontented with what +they already had, or unable to guard it, have perpetually called in +foreign troops. The historians have only recorded what has redounded to +the glory of our Princes--victories, battles, conquests; but they have +forgotten to mention that in the year 1617, in consequence of the +horrors of war, not a single child was born in the whole of +Transylvania, for famine and flight killed them all in their mothers' +wombs. But we know it, for we have suffered with and for the people. +Now, thank heaven! we are masters in our own homes. By the Peace of +Saint Gothard, the Turkish Sultan and the German Emperor have covenanted +not to march their troops through Transylvania, and by thus holding each +other in check, have vouchsafed us a little breathing-space, inasmuch as +we are no longer bound to take up arms for either of them, but can set +about healing our country's ancient wounds. A golden age is dawning upon +us. The whole world is fighting and bleeding, we alone possess peace; in +our land alone is the Magyar independent and his own master. True, ours +is not a very large realm, but at any rate 'tis our own. We may be a +very little people, but we recognize no greater anywhere. Now there are +persons who would destroy this golden age. There are persons who do not +care what an imprudently begun war may cost the country, provided their +ambition, provided their greed is gratified thereby; and if he whom they +attack chances to win, _they_ do not perish with their country, but +simply turn their coats, go over to the victors, and share the spoil +with them." + +"That is a slander!" cried some one from the background. Banfi at once +recognized Nalaczi's voice. + +The murmuring crowd turned towards the corner whence the interruption +had proceeded. + +"Let him alone, my friends," cried Banfi; "some satellite of Master +Michael Teleki's, I suppose. Let him, too, have the benefit of freedom +of speech! I, however, who am well acquainted with the upright +sentiments of the Estates of the Realm, can tell you positively, that +this thoughtless step can never be taken in a constitutional way, and if +they attempt by secret intrigues or sudden violence to bring about what +cannot be done by fair means, then too they will find me at my post. I +wish to defend the realm _and_ the Prince, but if it must be so, I will +defend the realm against the Prince himself. Now listen to what the +caballers have devised, so as to ensnare us once more in those meshes +from which we have hardly withdrawn our heads. Despite the peace, Turks +at one time, Tartars at another, cross our frontier, blackmail the +people, burn the towns, in short, force their friendship upon us in +every imaginable way. Eight days ago they ravaged Segesvar, and before +that they made incursions into the Csika district. That, however, is not +_my_ business. It concerns the Governors of the Saxon land and the +Captains of the Szeklers. It is true that the mouth of his Excellency, +Ali Pasha, has long been watering for my domains, only he has not quite +made up his mind how to pick a quarrel with me. A few days ago, however, +his roving bands captured the Prince's Patrol-officer, and proclaimed +through his mouth to the whole district a fresh tax of a farthing per +head. The poor peasantry rejoiced at getting off so cheaply, and +hastened to pay the tax without first asking me whether it was lawfully +levied. The artful Turk gained a double end thereby: in the first place, +he got the people to recognize the tax, and in the second place, he +found out exactly how many taxable persons resided in the district, and +immediately afterwards levied upon them the fearful blackmail of two +Hungarian florins per head!" + +The multitude howled with rage. + +"I immediately forbade all further payments. This tax does not indeed +fall upon our shoulders, for we are nobles; but it is just because we +are the peasants' masters that we are bound to save them from being +fleeced, and defend them at all hazards. The only answer I sent to his +Turkish Excellency was a pig's tail, and if he comes to levy the tax in +person, I swear by the living God, I'll give him a buffet he won't +forget as long as he lives." + +"We will cut him to pieces!" roared the mob, striking their scabbards, +and waving their morning-stars in the air. + +"And now, my faithful friends, return to your tents. My seneschals will +provide for your entertainment. If we must fight, I'll tell you when." + +The excited nobility then withdrew with rattling weapons and boisterous +approbation; only a few petitioners remained behind. + +The Klausenburg professors invited their patron to the public +examinations. Banfi promised to come, and distribute rewards to the best +scholars. + +As they retired Banfi beckoned to the remaining suppliants to approach +one by one. The first he turned to was Master Martin Kuncz, the Bishop +of the Klausenburg Unitarians. + +"How can I serve your Reverence?" + +"I have a complaint to make, gracious sir," returned Kuncz, with a bow +and a scrape. "The Klausenburg town-council has forcibly removed the +market booths belonging to the Unitarian Church. I beg you to help us to +regain possession." + +"I am very sorry I cannot help your Reverence," returned Banfi, +whistling through his teeth and buttoning up his coat. "That is a +constitutional affair, and concerns the Prince. The land indeed is mine, +but the cause belongs to his Highness's Courts." + +"The Prince gave me exactly the same answer, only reversed--'The cause +indeed belongs to my Courts, but the land is Banfi's, go to him.'" + +Banfi laughed good-humouredly, but Kuncz did not seem to regard the +matter as particularly entertaining. + +"Then, although my right is as clear as noon-day, I can turn nowhither?" + +Banfi shrugged his shoulders and stroked his beard. + +"Because your Reverence has right on your side, it by no means follows +that you will get justice." + +"Then his case is exactly the same as mine," interrupted some one, and +Banfi, looking round, beheld Dame Saint Pauli making towards him. + +The magnate pretended he did not see the widow, and nonchalantly +adjusted the gold and diamond chain of his mente; but the widow thrust +herself right under his nose, and thus began-- + +"Vainly do you condescend to ignore me, my lord. I am here though +uninvited." + +Banfi looked at her without saying a word, half amused and half +annoyed. + +"Or perhaps your lordship has forgotten my name?" continued the lady +sharply, smiting her breast and exclaiming--"I am the noble, +high-born----" + +"And worshipful," added Banfi, laughing. + +"Dowager Lady George Saint Pauli," continued the lady imperturbably, +"every scion of whose family is as noble and illustrious as the Prince +himself. I too have never forgotten what name I bear, but have proudly +confessed it before princes and generals--yea, even before greater men +than your Excellency." + +"Well, well, your ladyship. All that I know by heart, for I have heard +it from your own lips twenty times before. Come, tell me quickly what +you want." + +"Quickly, forsooth! Perchance your Excellency imagines that it is +possible to tell in a few words why the suit between us has lasted four +years already, and why the suit between the town of Klausenburg and my +family has been pending for three-and-sixty years?" + +"To cut matters short, I will tell you the whole story myself," +interrupted Banfi; "your ladyship can make your comment afterwards. Your +ladyship possesses a ruinous den in the midst of the Klausenburg +market-place----" + +"I beg your pardon--a manor-house just as good as your lordship's own +castle." + +"This shanty has for a long time disfigured the market-place. In vain +has the town-council negotiated with and sued your family in order to +have the house pulled down." + +"And we have not surrendered it. Quite right. A genuine nobleman never +sells property which he has purchased with his blood. It belongs to me, +and within my four walls neither Prince nor Diet has the right to +command. No, nor you either, my Lord-General." + +"My good lady, I never asked you to give me this venerable ruin for +nothing. I offered you ten thousand florins for it. For that sum I could +have bought up the whole gipsy quarter, though there is no such +dilapidated house there as yours." + +"Keep your money, sir. I'll not give up my house. My +seven-and-seventieth ancestor bought it two centuries ago, and therefore +I'll not barter it away. In it I was born; in it died my father and my +mother. If it offends your Excellency's eye to look down upon my +beggarly house from your splendid mansion, pray look the other way; but +at least do not grudge me the poor pleasure of spending the remainder of +my days in the room where my poor husband breathed his last sigh; and +let me tell you, sir, that I wouldn't take a palace in exchange for it." + +The widow's sobs at the recollection of her deceased husband here +enabled Banfi to put a word in, and he replied with passionate +vehemence-- + +"What I have said shall be done. The masons are already on their way to +pull down the house. The ten thousand florins you can have on +application to the town-council." + +"I don't want them. Throw them to your dogs," cried the woman furiously. +"Am I a peasant that you turn me thus out of my property? Whoever dares +to step across my threshold shall be driven out with a broomstick like a +cur. I have appealed to the Prince and to the Estates, and there you +have the sealed mandate in which the Diet forbids all and sundry to +invade my property. I'll nail it upon the gate,--'tis engrossed in a +good, legible hand,--and then I'll see who dares to break into my +house." + +"And I tell you that to-morrow your house will be razed to the ground, +even if it be surrounded by armalists, and then the Diet may build you a +new one if it is so disposed." + +And with that Banfi turned away in high dudgeon, and almost ran into +Nalaczi. + +The two men greeted each other with constrained politeness; and while +Dame Saint Pauli went off cursing, Nalaczi, after drawing a long breath, +began in the sweetest of tones-- + +"His Highness the Prince desires to bring a very unpleasant matter to +the notice of your Excellency." + +"I am all attention." + +"The Turk has thrice this year extorted gifts from us under various +pretexts." + +"You ought not to give them to him." + +"If we don't he will force upon us as Prince the refugee Nicholas +Zolyomi, now under the protection of the Porte." + +"Let him come! We will kick him out again." + +"Bravely spoken! But the Prince, weary of so much discord, and somewhat +fearful besides, has resolved to amnesty Zolyomi and allow him to +return." + +"In God's name let him do so then!" + +"Right, quite right! But your lordship knows very well that Zolyomi's +estates are now in your lordship's possession; the Prince therefore +finds himself compelled to request your lordship to surrender these +estates to the returning Zolyomi, if it would not greatly inconvenience +your lordship." + +Nalaczi had been a little too curt in the delivery of his message, +although he had done his best to sugar it with respectful epithets. + +"What!" cried Banfi, stepping back, "do you really suppose that I will +give up these estates? The Diet gave them to me with the onerous +condition of equipping at my own cost twelve regiments for the defence +of the country. That onerous condition I have faithfully fulfilled, and +now you fancy that I shall surrender the estates merely because there is +to be one fool the more in the land? Preposterous!" + +"But if the Prince wishes it!" + +"I'll not give them up whoever wishes it." + +"And that is the answer I'm to take back?" + +"You'll please take back these two words," said Banfi, emphasizing each +syllable--"I won't!" + +"Your most obedient servant," said Nalaczi, and with an ironical +obeisance he turned upon his heel. + +"Servus," replied Banfi contemptuously, as if he were throwing a bone to +a dog; and then he looked out into the corridor, and seeing some of his +vassals waiting there, hat in hand, roughly asked them what they wanted. + +When the good people saw that their liege lord was in a villainous +humour, they held back, but the steward pushed them in. + +"We ought to have brought the tithes," began the oldest peasant, with a +whining voice and downcast eyes, "but it was impossible." + +"Why?" + +"Because we have nothing, my lord. There has been no rain; the crops are +a failure; we have not even seed enough to sow our fields. In the +village the people are living on chance roots and fungus, and when these +are all gone, God only knows what will become of us." + +"Look now," cried Banfi, "another visitation of God, and yet we must +needs have a war to boot! Steward, open at once the demesne granaries, +and distribute seed to the vassals, that they may sow their fields. See +too that the poor people have enough corn to feed them through the +winter." + +The poor peasants would have kissed Banfi's hands, but he would not +suffer it. A tear stood in his eye. + +"For what am I your lord if not to lighten your burdens when you are in +need? My stewards will carry out my orders. If my own storehouses fall +short, you shall have corn for ready money from Moldavia." + +And with that he retired into the adjoining chamber. + + * * * * * + +Banfi's wife with a beating heart heard his familiar footsteps drawing +nearer. + +There she sits behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering mimosas, +herself as pale as the jasmine flowers and as tremulous as the mimosas. + +Around her is nothing but pomp and splendour. On the walls hang cut +Venetian mirrors in gold frames, portraits of kings and princes, the +handsomest among which is John Kemeny's, painted while he still held +with the Turk and wore close-cropped hair and a long beard in the +Turkish fashion, so much affected by the magnates of those days. + +On one side of the room is a wardrobe with countless drawers, a +masterpiece of art, inlaid with tortoise-shell, lapis lazuli, and +mother-of-pearl. In the centre of the room stands a variegated table +surmounted by silver candelabra of exquisite workmanship. Within glass +almeries the family treasures are piled up in gorgeous heaps: pocals +encrusted with gems; gold-enamelled stags, whose heads can be screwed +off and on; large silver filigree flower-baskets, each scarcely heavier +than a crown-piece, filled with posies of precious stones of every hue, +artistically disposed in dazzling groups, with here and there a +butterfly poising above them with delicate wings of transparent gold. + +Heavy red silk curtains fall down from the lofty windows to the floor, +and the window-sills are covered with the most gorgeous of the flowers +then in vogue, among which the shining, velvety, amaranthine +cock's-comb, the liriodendron with its dependent, tulip-like calices, +and the mesembryanthemum, with its leaves like dewy pearls, are the most +conspicuous. + +Of all these flowers only the trembling mimosa and the pale jasmine +harmonized with the lady of the house, whose face contrasted so sadly +with the gorgeous abode. The tiny, delicate figure seemed almost lost in +the lofty arched room. She could not even have moved one of the massive +morocco arm-chairs, nor have raised one of the huge heavy candlesticks, +nor have pulled aside one of the heavy atlas curtains. Everything around +her seemed to remind her of her feebleness. Every sound made her +nervous, and when the well-known footsteps reached her threshold, all +the blood rushed to her face. She was about to leap up when the door +opened, and immediately she was as pale again as ever, and incapable of +rising from her seat. + +Banfi hastened, with expansive joy, towards his trembling wife, who +could not for the moment find words to welcome him, seized both her +delicate hands, and looked kindly into her dreamy eyes. + +"So pretty and yet so sad!" + +The lady tried to smile. + +"And how sad that smile is too," remarked Banfi, gently embracing the +sylph-like lady. + +Lady Banfi laid her head on her husband's bosom, threw her arms round +his neck, drew down his face to hers, and kissed it. + +"That kiss too, how sad it is!" + +She turned away to conceal her tears. + +"What is it?" asked Banfi, stroking his wife's forehead. "What is the +matter? Why are you so pale? What do you want?" + +"What do I want?" returned Lady Banfi, turning her streaming eyes up to +her husband and sighing deeply. Then she dried her eyes, placed her arm +in his, and as if to give another turn to the conversation, led him to +her flowers. + +"Look at that passion-flower, how withered it is, and yet it is planted +in a porcelain vase, and I water it every day with distilled water. But +once I forgot to draw up the blinds, and now look how the poor thing has +faded. It wants nothing--but sunshine." + +"It seems," said Banfi, in a low voice, "as if we were to address each +other in the language of flowers." + +"What do I want?" repeated Lady Banfi, and leaning on her husband's +neck, she burst forth sobbing. "I want my sunshine--your love." + +Banfi at that moment looked very uncomfortable. He sat down on his +wife's chair, took her gently upon his knee, and asked her in a kind +tone, but not without a touch of temper too-- + +"Am I less able to show you my love now than heretofore?" + +"Oh, no!--not less! But I see you so seldom. You have been away these +six weeks, and you would not let me come to you." + +"What, my lady! Have you suddenly become ambitious? Would you shine at +the court of the Prince? Believe me, your court is much more splendid +than his, and not nearly so dangerous." + +"Oh, you know right well that I neither seek splendour nor fear danger. +When our only shelter was a rude simple hut, nay, sometimes only a tent, +half buried in the snow, then you made me lay my head upon your breast, +covered me with your mantle, and I was so happy, oh, so happy. +Oftentimes the din of battle, the thunder of the cannon, scared sleep +from our eyes, and yet I was so happy. You mounted your horse, I sank +down in prayer; and when you came back blood- and dust-stained, but +unhurt, how happy I was then!" + +"Heaven grant that you may always be so. But there is a happiness which +stands higher than domestic happiness; there are matters where the mere +sight of you would be to me a hindrance and an obstacle." + +"Oh, I know what they are--sweet adventures, lovely women, eh?" returned +Lady Banfi, with an arch voice but perhaps a bleeding heart. + +"You are mistaken," cried Banfi, springing hastily from his chair. "I +was alluding to the commonweal," and he began to pace angrily up and +down the room. + +When a husband takes umbrage at such jests, it is a sure sign that he +feels himself hit. + +At last Banfi unknitted his bushy brows and stood stock still before his +trembling wife, who, ever since her husband entered the room, had been +the prey of the most conflicting emotions; joy and grief, fear and rage, +love and jealousy, still struggled for the mastery in her agitated +breast. + +"Margaret," he began, in an unsteady voice, "Margaret, you are jealous, +and jealousy is the first step towards hatred." + +"Then hate me rather than forget me!" cried the lady with a sudden +outburst, which she instantly regretted. + +"But what do you want me to do? Have you a single reason for suspecting +me? Perhaps you want me to render you an exact account of how many miles +I've travelled, how many people I've spoken to, like that blockhead Gida +Bertai, for instance, who takes a diary with him every time he leaves +the house, and reports to his better-half every half-hour? To hear you +speak, one would fancy that I keep you under lock and key, like Abraham +Thoroczkai keeps his wife, who, whenever he goes from home, puts a +padlock on his wife's chamber, and on his return exacts an oath from +all his neighbours that no one has spoken to her in the meantime." + +Lady Banfi laughed, but it was a laugh which ended in a sigh. + +"You evade the question with a jest. I certainly do not accuse you. I do +not watch you, and if you were to deceive me I should be none the wiser. +But look! there is that in a woman's heart (a sort of sixth sense) which +smarts she knows not why, and whereby she can tell instinctively whether +her beloved's love is on the wax or wane. I know not, nor wish to know, +whence you come and whither you go; but this I do know--you stay away a +long time, and do not make much haste in coming back. Banfi, I suffer--I +suffer more than you can think." + +"Madame!" cried Banfi, turning upon his wife with a flushed face, "in +this country divorce suits do not last very long!" + +Lady Banfi fell back into her chair, pressed her hands to her heart, and +gasped for breath. She uttered one sharp, plaintive cry, but no other +sound came from her parted lips. It was as though some one had suddenly +severed the strings of a harp with a sword. + +Half fainting, the wife looked up at her husband, as if to make sure +whether after all it was not a mere jest, though certainly a very +ghastly one. + +"You are unhappy," continued Banfi, "and I cannot help you. You are so +romantic, and I'm not given that way at all. Perhaps my heart wounds +yours, and I'm sorry for it; but your heart certainly wounds mine, and I +won't stand it. I recognize no tyrant over me, not even in love, and +I'll not endure persecution--no, not even the persecution of a woman's +tears. Let us rend our hearts asunder. Better do it now while they will +still bleed from the rupture than wait till they drop away of their own +accord. Let us rather part while we still love one another, than wait +till we have learned to hate." + +During the whole of this cruel speech the lady panted convulsively for +breath, as if a heavy nightmare were pressing upon her bosom and +depriving her of speech, till at last her emotion found an escape, and +she uttered a piercing scream. + +"Banfi! you are killing me!" + +Banfi himself seemed aghast at this cry, and turning round in the very +act of quitting the room, cast a glance at his wife. + +He did not perceive that at that moment the door opened and some one +entered; he only saw that his wife's agonized countenance was suddenly +distorted by an unspeakably painful smile. A forced smile on those +convulsed features was something too terrible. Banfi thought at first +that his wife had gone mad. + +The next instant Dame Banfi rose impetuously from her chair, and +exclaiming, "Anna! my darling Anna!" rushed towards the door. + +It was then that Banfi turned round, and saw before him Anna Bornemissa, +the consort of Michael Apafi. That lady's sharp eyes instantly detected +the agitation of the consorts, though they both did their best to hide +it, and not without success. But she made as though she saw nothing, and +drawing Margaret to her breast, kindly held out her hand to Banfi. + +"I heard your voices outside," said she, "so I came in without waiting +to be announced." + +"Ah, yes ... we were ... laughing," said Dame Banfi, covertly wiping her +eyes with the corner of her pocket-handkerchief. + +"And to what circumstances do we owe this extraordinary piece of good +fortune?" asked Banfi, concealing his embarrassment behind an +exaggerated courtesy. + +"As you did not bring my sister to see me," returned the Princess, with +a reproachful smile, "I thought I would just visit my poor exiled +Hungarian kinswoman myself." + +Banfi felt the sting of these last words, and murmured as he stroked his +beard-- + +"Here my fair sister-in-law may do with me what she will. She may make +me the butt of her sparkling wit; she may overwhelm me with her playful +sallies. In the Hall of the Diet, before the throne of the Prince, we +stand, face to face, as foes; but here you may command me, here I am +only your most devoted servant, who delights to do homage to your +charms, and is beside himself for joy to have you as his guest." + +With these words Banfi embraced the majestic lady with easy familiarity; +then, turning to his wife, added, not without a touch of malice-- + +"I hope you will not be jealous of Anna?" + +The Princess hastened to reply instead of Margaret. + +"Methinks you fear me too much to make love to me." + +"I might perhaps if you were my wife. Yet we were near being wedded +once. There was a time when I wanted to make you my bride." + +"But it went no further than wishing," returned the Princess, laughing. + +"We soon learned to know each other," continued Banfi. "There would have +been no room in one house for two such heads as ours, which find one +realm too small to hold them both. We both of us love to rule. We should +have been hard put to it if one had been obliged to obey the other. +Things fell out for the best. We have found our corresponding +halves--you Apafi; I Margaret--and we are both contented." + +With these words Banfi tenderly kissed his wife's hand and departed, +leaving the sisters alone. + +Anna, with noble gravity, placed her hand on the shoulder of her sister, +who looked up to her with a soft smile like an innocent child regarding +its guardian angel. + +"You have been weeping," began the Princess; "'tis in vain that you try +to put a good face on it." + +"I have not been weeping!" returned Margaret, keeping her countenance +with wonderful self-control. + +"Well, well; I'm glad you conceal it. That shows you love him; and if +ever there was a time when your husband needed your love, your +watchfulness, and your protection, it is now." + +"Your words alarm me! You have something extraordinary to tell me!" + +"My coming here at all must have been enough to have alarmed you. You +may well suppose that I would not come to your castle for nothing. We +have both equal cause to fear a certain person, and if we do not quickly +come to an understanding, one of us may lose what she prizes most in the +world." + +"Speak! oh, speak!" cried Dame Banfi, trembling, and making her sister +sit down beside her on the sofa. + +"Our husbands have hated each other from the first. They were always of +different opinions, belonged to opposite parties, and early became +accustomed to regard each other as foes. Woe betide us if this hatred +should turn to open strife, and we should see our loved ones compass +each other's ruin." + +"Oh, I can positively assure you that Banfi nourishes no hostile feeling +against your husband." + +"I do not apprehend Apafi's fall, but your husband's. The throne upon +which he was placed by force has quite changed Apafi's character. I +perceive, to my consternation, that he has begun to grow jealous of his +authority. Why, even at Érsekújvár, when he first became Prince, he +expressed his anxiety to the Grand Vizier that Gabriel Haller was +plotting for the diadem, whereupon the Grand Vizier had poor Haller +beheaded there and then without my husband's knowledge; but Apafi still +recollects the message your husband sent him on that occasion, namely, +that ere long he would tear from his shoulders the green velvet mantle, +the symbol of the princely dignity." + +"Oh, my God! what must I not fear?" + +"Nothing, so long as I do not lose my husband's favour. While you are +securely sleeping, I am watchfully guarding against his passionate +outbursts, and hitherto God has given me strength to fight against the +monsters who would make of his reign a bloody memorial. But there is a +certain condition of mind to which my husband is liable when my +influence over him loses all its talismanic power; when, revolting +against his own nature, his gentleness turns to ravening savagery; when +his eyes, usually so ready to weep at the death of his lowliest vassal, +seem to thirst for blood; when he throws off his habitual +circumspectness and becomes wildly reckless. And this condition--I blush +to confess it--is drunkenness. I do not bring it against him as an +accusation. He whom we love has no fault in our eyes." + +"Except one thing--his infidelity to us," interrupted Margaret. + +"That too, yes, that too must be forgiven when it becomes a question of +saving his life," replied the Princess. + +"Oh, Anna!" cried Margaret, "you make me suspect mysteries which you +will not reveal to me." + +"What you ought to know you shall know. A little while ago your husband, +with haughty presumption, opposed himself to a mighty faction which has +kings for its confederates and kings for its antagonists; he might just +as well have opposed Destiny herself. He is too proud to calculate the +dangers which he thus draws down upon his head; or does he really think +that they who sharpen their swords against a reigning monarch would +suffer for an instant one of their own subjects to raise his head +against them? And Banfi has threatened, mocked, insulted them, and +entangled the meshes of their well and widely laid plans--nay, more, he +has encountered and browbeaten them in the very presence of the +Prince." + +Dame Banfi folded her arms in timid resignation. + +"I see the storm which is gathering over Banfi's head. In his drunken +fits, Apafi has let fall hints which have filled my soul with terror, +and I don't wish Apafi's to be the hand to strike down Banfi for the +sake of others. They will try to catch him at every turn, but we two +will watch over him. I will endeavour to keep back the stroke, yet +should it fall, 'tis for you to ward it off. We must both possess the +entire love and confidence of our consorts, so as to be able to +intervene energetically and decisively should they come to blows. For +would it not be frightful if one fell by the other's hand, and one of us +were the cause of the other's misery?" + +Margaret timidly pressed Anna's hand. + +"What am I to do? Oh, my God! what can I do? How can I intervene? I have +no power." + +"Your power lies in your love, watchfulness, and self-sacrifice," +returned Dame Apafi with an exalted look, striving to inspire her weaker +sister with something of her own strength. + +At that moment the fate of two men was in the hands of two angels, and +the fate of those two men was one with the fate of Transylvania. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE. + + +As Denis Banfi, after quitting his wife's chamber, was descending the +spiral staircase which led to the hall, he saw a young horseman come +galloping at full speed into the courtyard. + +The horseman was covered with blood and foam. As he sprang from his +horse the beast collapsed altogether; but the rider rushed pell-mell +towards Banfi, who, recognizing in him one of his captains, Gabriel +Benkö, went to meet him, and asked him what was the matter. + +"Sir," began the gasping knight, catching his breath, "Ali Pasha is +attacking Banfi-Hunyad." + +"Is that all?" said Banfi gruffly, not displeased that Fate had given +his irritated temper something to rend and tear. "Send Veer hither!" he +cried to his retainers; "and you, when you have got your breath, just +tell me how the matter went." + +"I must be brief, my lord. I come from the thick of the fight. Yesterday +a troop of Kurdish freebooters appeared before Banfi-Hunyad. Your +lordship's captain, Gregory Söter, anticipating that they had come to +levy blackmail, went out against them with the castle bands, engaged in +combat with them, drove them from beneath the walls after a sharp +contest, and, following up his advantage, sounded a charge and pursued +the fugitives in the direction of Zenlelke. We were still pursuing the +Kurds, who fled headlong, when suddenly we saw ourselves attacked in +flank; and in a trice the whole plain was swarming with Turkish +horsemen, who overran us like ants. I cannot exactly tell their numbers, +but I saw three horse-tail standards with my own eyes, which proves +that the Pasha himself was with the expedition. Söter had no time to +make good his retreat to Banfi-Hunyad." + +"The devil!" cried Banfi. + +"Every one of us had to do with two or three of them. Söter himself +seized a morning-star with one hand and a broadsword with the other, and +cried to me--I was by his side--'My son, leave the battle-field, cut +your way through! Fly to Bonczhida and tell the news!' I heard no more. +The surging masses parted us; so I threw my shield over my shoulders, +bowed my head deep down over my saddle-bow, gave my nag the spur, and +galloped out of the fight. About one hundred horsemen pursued me, the +darts fell like a hailstorm on my shield; but my good horse, well aware +of the danger, redoubled his speed, and so the pursuers lost trace of +me." + +"Did you come direct to Bonczhida?" + +"No; I made a side-spring to Banfi-Hunyad, to warn the people there of +their danger, so that they might have time to escape to the mountains." + +"You did wisely. Then the people have escaped?" + +"By no means. It was in front of Dame Vizaknai's house that I told the +news to the people. Their faces turned pale, when all at once the lady +of the house appeared with a drawn sword in her hand, and as if +possessed by the spirits of a hundred warriors, stood among the people +with sparkling eyes and thus addressed them-- + +"'Are ye men? If so, seize your weapons, go out upon the ramparts, and +show the world that you can defend the place where your children were +born and your fathers lie buried. But if ye are cowards, then fly +whither you will; but the women will remain behind here with me, to show +the savage foe that none is too weak to fight for hearth and home.'" + +Banfi, with a hoarse voice, called to his armourers to bring him +breastplate, spear, and helmet, and beckoned to the panting messenger to +go on with his story. + +"At these words the people uttered a loud and furious cry. The women, +like so many Bacchantes, ran in search of weapons, and mounted the +ramparts by the side of their husbands, whom the determination of their +wives had turned into veritable heroes. Every one seized the first thing +that came to hand--scythes, spades, flails. Meanwhile, Dame Vizaknai was +everywhere at once, marshalling and haranguing the combatants, +barricading the church, breaking down the bridge, so that when I left +the town, it was already in a fair state of defence. Thereupon I swam +the Körös, to avoid making a long circuit, and came hither through the +woods and by-ways." + +During the latter part of this narrative Banfi seemed to be nearly +beside himself. He waited now for neither armour nor helmet, but roared +for his horse; and as he sprang into the saddle, cried to Veer, who was +hastening up-- + +"After me to Banfi-Hunyad! March day and night. The infantry must go +round by the Gyalyui Alps. The cavalry will follow me to Klausenburg. +Light beacons in the mountains as you approach, that I may attack the +foe simultaneously with the vanguard." + +"Would it not perhaps be better if your Excellency remained behind with +the main army?" said George Veer, with an anxious face. + +"Do what I bid you, sir!" was Banfi's reply; and giving his horse the +spur, he dashed off, followed by about half-a-dozen of his suite. + +"What ails him then, that he will neither wait for us, nor inform his +wife and the Princess of what has happened?" + +"He was aghast when I told him that Dame Vizaknai was defending +Banfi-Hunyad," said Benkö apologetically. "She is an old flame of his +whom he has long forgotten; but his youthful affection seemed to revive +him when he heard of her heroic audacity." + +George Veer, satisfied with this explanation, ordered his squadrons to +take horse forthwith; and after previously informing Lady Banfi that he +was off on a petty raid, departed for Klausenburg, leaving the command +of the infantry to Captain Michael Angel, who did not break up till +evening, the road along the Snow Mountains being much the shorter way. + +Just as they were about to start, a tattered young Szekler, with pale +cheeks but strong arms, stepped forth. His companions had pushed him +into the front ranks. + +"Come, sing us a battle-song!" they cried. + +It was the rude, popular poet, Ambrose Gelenze. + +Drawing from the pocket of his tunic his Bible, on the inside of the +parchment covers of which he used to jot down his improvised war-songs, +he placed himself in front of the host, and began to sing the following +simple lay, the whole of the Transylvanian gentry repeating it word for +word as they marched after him-- + + "Now dawns serene the morning sheen, + The wonted hour hath come; + Sounds bold and free the merry march, + Nor bush nor brake is dumb! + Then up! to horse! and scale the height, + Bold Magyar! Szekler steeled in fight! + And sturdy Saxon hind! + A laggard he who doth not hie + When straight before the road doth lie; + And where there is no road to go, then climb, nor look behind!" + +This song, sung by thousands and thousands of warriors, gradually died +away in the distance. + + * * * * * + +George Veer, on reaching Klausenburg, no longer found Banfi there. The +Lord-Lieutenant with two hundred horsemen had departed an hour before. + +Veer, after allowing his men a brief halt, followed Banfi all night long +without being able to overtake him; the Baron had always the start of +him, though sometimes only a few minutes. + +It was already late in the night when Banfi with his two hundred +horsemen reached the point where the Körös intersects the woody dale; +just where a bridge crosses the stream the Turk had pitched his camp. +Watchful Bedouins lay stretched on their bellies there, with their long +muskets in their hands. It was impossible to surprise them. + +In the direction of Banfi-Hunyad a red glow illuminated the sky, +alternately waxing and waning. + +Leaving his horsemen in ambush on the opposite shore, Banfi with four +companions descended to the stream to seek for a ford. The Körös is +there so rapid that it can unhorse the firmest rider. Fortunately it had +fallen so much in consequence of the summer drought, that Banfi soon +found a place where the water flowed more calmly, and waded successfully +through it with his escort. One of them he sent back to fetch the rest, +but he himself with the other three remained on the opposite bank +looking steadily in the direction of the fire. + +Meanwhile a patrol of Bedouin horsemen, who were keeping watch on the +bank, perceived the three riders and their leader, and challenged them. + +Banfi would have fallen back, but three of the Bedouins charged upon him +forthwith, while the three others with couched lances fell upon his +comrades. + +"Bend your heads down over the necks of your horses, and seize their +lances with your left hands!" cried Banfi to his companions; and with +that they all four drew their swords, went at full tilt against the foe, +and collided beneath the dark shadows without another word. + +Banfi was in the centre. The lances of the three Bedouins whizzed +through the air simultaneously, and Banfi's comrades fell on both sides +of him, transfixed, from their horses, while he with his left hand +skilfully disarmed one of the spearmen, at the same time dealing him a +blow with his right hand which cleft his skull. He then turned +single-handed upon his two nearest assailants, and cut down one with his +lance and the other with his sword. + +But now the three remaining horsemen fell furiously upon him. + +"Come on then!" shouted Banfi, gnashing his teeth; and with that +terrible humour peculiar to certain warriors in the hour of danger, he +added--"I'll teach you how to wield the spear, my boys!" and setting his +back against a clump of trees, he stuck his sword into its sheath, +seized his spear with both hands, and not three minutes had elapsed +before all three Bedouins had fallen from their horses to the ground. + +Then he looked around to see if any more were coming, and was delighted +to observe that the Turks at the bridge had heard nothing of the tussle, +while his two hundred horsemen had come down to the river-side and were +noiselessly crossing to the opposite bank. + +Some of the fallen Bedouins were still moaning and groaning. + +"Smash their skulls in, that they may not betray us with their cries!" + +"Ought we not to await Veer's troops?" asked one of the captains. + +"We cannot. We haven't time!" replied Banfi, with his eyes fixed upon +the ruddy horizon, and the little band proceeded covertly through field +and forest. + +Soon a distant hubbub struck upon their ears, and when they had climbed +to the top of a little hill, Banfi-Hunyad emerged before their eyes. + +Banfi gave a sigh of relief. It was not the town that was burning, but +the haystacks. The roofs of the houses had been taken off beforehand by +the inhabitants themselves to prevent the enemy from setting them on +fire. Even the church and castle were roofless, and the Turkish host +could be seen swarming round them by the light of the conflagration, +whilst from the battlements a fiery rain of sulphur and pitch, +occasionally intermingled with heavy beams, poured down upon the +besiegers, and drove them back from the walls. + +Ali Pasha had not waited for his artillery,--it had stuck fast in the +wretched roads,--imagining that he could easily storm a place defended +only by women and peasants. But it is notorious that despair makes every +one a soldier, and that even scythes and axes are good weapons in +resolute hands. + +At this spectacle Banfi's features grew flaming red. He fancied he saw a +white female form on the pinnacle of the tower, immediately gave his +horse the spur, and rushed forward like a whirlwind, crying to his +horsemen-- + +"Don't count the enemy now; we shall have time enough for that +afterwards, when we have cut them all down!" and in a quarter of an hour +the little band had reached the camp before the town. + +There every one was slumbering. Whilst one half of the host was storming +the town the other found time to repose. Even the heads of the sentries +hung drowsily down. There they lay, close to their horses, and only +awoke out of their dreams when Banfi was already charging through their +ranks. + +The Baron, who seemed bent upon relieving the besieged single-handed, +cut down everything that came in his way; while the Turks, scared out of +their slumbers, blindly snatched up sword and spear, and began +massacring each other, despite all the efforts of the Tsahusz's to +restore order. + +Meanwhile Banfi was madly forcing his way through the Turkish host +surrounding the church. The foremost rows fled back aghast at this +unexpected onslaught; but a brigade of Ali Pasha's picked Mamelukes rode +forward and arrested the flight. + +A gigantic Moor stood at the head of this troop. His horse too was an +extraordinarily big beast, a stallion sixteen hands high. The +protuberant, swelling muscles of the dusky giant's naked arms shone like +steel in the hellish glare of the burning haystacks, his broad mouth was +bleeding from the blow of a stone, and the whites of his eyes gleamed +ghost-like out of his dark countenance. + +"Halt, Giaour!" roared the Moor, with a voice which rose above the din +of battle, and he went straight for Banfi. In his enormous fist sparkled +a sabre as broad as a man's hand; it appeared too heavy even for him. + +Two hussars riding in front of Banfi fell right and left before two +blows from the monster, one without his head, the other cleft to the +shoulder. Throwing back his arm for a third stroke, the Moor rose in his +stirrups, and exclaimed with a voice of thunder-- + +"I am Kariassar, the invincible! Thank thy God that thou diest by my +hand!" and with that he swept his sword backwards, and dealt a +tremendous blow at Banfi's head. + +The Baron, with the utmost sangfroid, brought his sword in front of his +face, and at the very moment when Kariassar let fly at him, made with +lightning-like swiftness a dextrous lunge at the Moor's fist--it was +what fencers call _an inner cut_--striking off Kariassar's four fingers, +so that the heavy scimitar fell clashing out of the fingerless hand. + +The black's face grew pale from rage and pain. With a frightful howl he +instantly threw himself on Banfi, and disregarding fresh wounds on his +face and shoulders, seized Banfi's right hand with his left, and must +have dragged him from his horse by sheer brute force if the Baron had +not had an uncommonly firm seat. + +It seemed as if the Moor were capable of crushing him with only one +hand. But Banfi was a good rider, and now he pressed his horse tightly +with his knee, whereupon the noble beast reared and plunged; and while +the giant was struggling with his master, and tearing at his lacerated +arm with a lion's strength, the war-horse turned suddenly on the Moor, +struck him a blow on the thigh with its front hoof, bit his brawny +breast with foaming mouth, and shook the bitten part between its teeth. + +Kariassar yelled aloud, and suddenly relinquishing the Baron, grasped +his poniard with his left hand, and writhing with pain, drew it from its +sheath; but at the self-same moment Banfi dealt a rapid stroke at the +giant's neck. The huge head rolled suddenly to the ground, and while the +blood shot up in a threefold jet from the severed neck, the headless +figure remained for an instant swaying on its horse, and spasmodically +waving its poniard--a fearful spectacle to friend and foe. + +At the sight of their leader's fall the terrified Mamelukes scattered +in all directions, trampling one another down in their panic-flight. At +the same time the defenders of the church threw down their barricades +and made a sortie, Dame Vizaknai at their head with a drawn sword, and +close behind her the priests as standard-bearers with the church's +banners. The great besieging host, thus caught between two fires, was +cut in two, leaving a free space on one side for the scythes of the +peasants, and on the other for the csakanys of the hussars. + +The csakany, by the way, is a mighty weapon in the hands of those who +know how to use it. Its strokes are almost unavoidable. Its long, +pointed beak smites down with such force as to crush shield and helmet +to pieces, and a sword is no defence against it. + +Step by step the besieged and the relief party drew nearer to each +other, driving before them the Janissaries, who contested every inch of +ground, and even when lying on the ground half-dead, aimed with their +daggers at the feet of the horses which trampled them down. + +Dame Vizaknai sprang towards Denis Banfi and seized his horse by the +bridle. + +"The danger is great, my lord! The Turk is twenty to one. Come behind +the churchyard wall." + +"I'll not budge a single step," replied Banfi coolly; "but that is no +reason why you should not save yourself behind your barricades." + +"Not another step do I budge either," rejoined Dame Vizaknai. + +"I can defend myself!" cried Banfi vehemently. + +"And I too!" replied the lady proudly. + +The next instant fresh squadrons came streaming up from every quarter, +as if they had fallen from the clouds or sprung from the earth--infantry +and cavalry with long muskets, bows and arrows, and ribboned darts. + +"Ali! Ali! Allah akbar!" + +The Hungarian forces ranged themselves in battle array, with their backs +to the churchyard wall, and awaited the attack. From the end of the +street a glittering array of horsemen was seen approaching; it consisted +of a picked corps of Spahis[39] on stately Arabs, whose emerald-set +saddles sparkled in the firelight. In their midst rode Ali on a slender, +snow-white Barbary steed, in his hand flashed a diamond-hilted +scimitar; on his head he wore a turbaned helmet; his long black beard +fell down over his silver breastplate. On coming within gunshot of +Banfi's host, he halted and marshalled his squadrons. + + [Footnote 39: _Spahis._ Light Turkish cavalry.] + +Hitherto Banfi had not touched his pistols, the wonderfully-carved ivory +handles of which peeped forth from his holsters. But now he drew them +forth and handed them to Dame Vizaknai. + +"Take them!" said he; "you must have wherewith to defend yourself." + +Meanwhile Ali Pasha had sent forward a herald, who, drawing near to the +Hungarians, delivered the following message to them-- + +"My master, Ali Pasha, informs you, O ye unbelieving Giaours, that every +loophole of escape is closed. Wherefore then strive against him further? +Lay down your weapons and throw yourselves upon his mercy." + +Scarcely had the herald finished speaking when two shots resounded, and +he fell dead from his horse. Dame Vizaknai had fired both pistols at him +by way of reply. Then Ali Pasha beckoned furiously to the squadrons +surrounding him, and from all sides there rained darts, bullets, and +arrows on the little band of Hungarians. The same moment Dame Vizaknai +climbed on to Banfi's stirrups, and supporting herself on his shoulders +with one hand, cried-- + +"Fear nought, my friends!" + +A crackling report and a hissing shower of darts followed. Dame Vizaknai +covered Banfi with her body, and after the fiery tempest had roared +past, the Baron felt her hold upon his arm relaxing. An arrow had struck +her just above the heart. + +"That arrow was meant for you," said Dame Vizaknai, with a faint voice, +and she sank dead to the ground. + +"Poor lady!" cried Banfi, with a look of compassion. "She always loved +me, and would never show it." + +And then blood flowed instead of tears. + +The Turkish host surrounded the Hungarians on every side, but were +unable to break through their ranks. Banfi was already fighting with his +eighth Spahi, who like the seven others was at last overcome by the +Baron's extraordinary dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage. + +"Why can't you cut down that grizzly dog?" roared he furiously, and +galloped himself against Banfi, driving his flying followers out of his +way with the flat part of his sword-blade. "'Tis I, Ali Pasha, who now +stands before thee, vile hog!" bellowed he, gnashing his teeth, "thou +son of a dog, thou." + +"Keep your titles for yourself," cried Banfi, and riding up to the Pasha +he dealt him a tremendous blow on the helmet with his sword, so that +sword and helmet were both smashed to pieces, and the champions reeled +back half stunned. Ali quickly snatched from his armour-bearers a round +shield, while Banfi was hastily provided with a steel csakany, and again +they rushed upon each other. + +The csakany fell with fearful force upon the shield, and knocked a hole +through it, while Ali lunged forward with his scimitar, and this time +only a very dexterous twist of the head saved Banfi's life. + +"I'll play ball with thy head!" cried Ali contemptuously. + +"And I'll make a broom of thy beard!" retorted Banfi. + +"I'll have thy coat-of-arms nailed up over my stables!" + +"And thy skin, stuffed with sawdust, shall serve me as a scarecrow!" + +"Thou rebellious slave!" + +"Thou barber's apprentice turned general." + +Every abusive epithet was accompanied by a fresh and furious blow. + +"Thou dishonourable girl-snatcher," cried the Pasha, with foaming mouth. +"Thou dost filch Turkish maidens for thy unclean embraces; therefore +will I carry off thy wife and make her the lowest slave in my harem." + +To Banfi the world seemed all at once to be turning round and round. His +soul had received three wounds, which quite divested him of humanity. + +"Thou accursed devil," he roared, gnashing his teeth, seized his csakany +by the middle with both hands, sprang closer to Ali, and whirled his +weapon with lightning-like rapidity over his head, so that it flew round +and round in his hands like the sail of a windmill, crashing down now +with its axe-head, now with its bullet-shaped nether end on his +antagonist's shield, and attacking and defending himself at the same +time. Ali Pasha, confused at this altogether novel mode of attack, would +have retired; but the two war-horses, furiously biting each other about +the head and neck, were now taking part in the contest of their masters, +and could not be parted. + +The Spahis, seeing their leader waver, threw themselves between the +combatants and drove from Banfi's side his escort of hussars. The Baron +now perceiving that all his people had fled to the churchyard, directed +one last swift stroke at Ali's shield, which, to judge from Ali's +agonized howl, penetrated it at the very spot where fitted on to the +arm. Banfi had no time for a third encounter, as he was now completely +surrounded. + +At that moment a well-known flourish of trumpets resounded in the rear +of the combatants, and a fresh and general battle-cry mingled with the +din-- + +"God and St. Michael." + +George Veer had arrived with the banderia. + +"God and St. Michael!" thundered the leader of the nobility, conspicuous +among them all in his silver coat of mail with the bearskin thrown over +his shoulders; and with his toothed battle-axe he hewed his way through +the ranks of the astonished Turks. + +The attack was skilfully conducted; the mounted nobility pressed on from +all sides, simultaneously bringing the Turkish host everywhere into +confusion, so that one wing could not assist the other, and the +outermost ranks were always borne down by superior numbers. + +Ali Pasha had received a bad wound in the arm from Banfi's last blow, +which had daunted his courage, so he stuck his spurs into his horse's +sides and gave the signal for retreat. + +The Turkish host was driven head and heels out of the town, and its +leaders endeavoured to retreat among the Gyalyui Alps, hoping to rally +it again in the narrow defiles. + +Outside the town the battle, fast becoming a rout, still raged +furiously. The Hungarians scattered about the burning hayricks, and were +so intermingled in the darkness of the night with their opponents that +they could only distinguish one another by their battle-cries. + +The harassed Turkish host, which in the darkness and confusion at one +time took refuge among the enemy, and at another cut down their own +comrades, tried to imitate the battle-cry of the Hungarians, but this +only made the mischief greater; for as they could not pronounce the +words "Angel Michael," but always cried "Anchal Michel," they exposed +themselves more completely to the Hungarians. + +The Turkish army was now completely beaten; more than a thousand of its +dead lay in the streets and around the church, and only the mountain +passes, into which it was not prudent for the Hungarians to follow them, +saved them from utter annihilation. + +George Veer therefore sounded the recall, whilst Banfi, with restless +rage, rushed hither and thither after the flying foe. All in vain; every +way was barred by the trunks of trees which the Turks had hewn down in +hot haste. + +"We must let them escape!" cried Veer, thrusting his sabre into its +sheath. + +"Say not so! say not so!" cried Banfi excitedly, and riding up to the +top of a hillock, he seemed to be observing something in the distance. +Suddenly he exclaimed with a joyful voice--"Look yonder. The +fire-signals have just been lit!" + +And indeed on the crests of the Gyalyui Mountains the fire-signals could +be seen flashing up one by one in a long line. + +"Those are our people!" cried Banfi, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk is +caught in the trap. Forward!" And remarshalling his squadrons, he +galloped towards the barricaded forest paths, heedless of the warnings +of the more circumspect Veer. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Ali Pasha, abandoning his tents, camels, and booty-laden +wagons to the enemy, sent Dzem Haman, the Albanian commander, on before, +to level the roads over the snowy mountains. + +As now Dzem Haman was advancing through the darkness and superintending +the labours of his Albanian pioneers, he heard voices in the steep rock +above his head, and a company of armed men suddenly emerged from the +mountain passes before his eyes. + +The troops on both sides challenged each other simultaneously. + +"Who are ye? What are you doing?" + +"We are carrying stones," answered Dzem Haman. "And you?" + +"We too are carrying stones," was the answer from above. + +"We are Dzem Haman's men, who are removing the stones from the path of +Ali Pasha--and ye, are you not Csaky's men?" + +"We are collecting stones for the head of Ali Pasha, and are Michael +Angel's people," resounded from above, and at the same time a terrible +rain of stones rolled down upon the heads of the Albanians, by way of +confirming the statement. + +"Michel Anchal is here also!" roared the terrified Albanians, falling +back aghast, and creating a panic among those behind them by declaring +that they were surrounded. + +At these tidings, the Turkish host, harassed from before and behind, +resolved itself into a disorderly mass, on which, at break of day, the +Hungarian infantry began rolling enormous masses of stone and rock. + +Ali Pasha attempted first on one side and then on another to break +through the enemy's lines, but was everywhere driven back with fearful +loss by the missiles hurled down from above. The boldest warriors, who +had fought man to man in a hundred battles, fled back pale and trembling +before the thundering masses of rock, which so completely smashed +everything that came in their way that horse and rider were +undistinguishable. + +Ali Pasha tore his beard in impotent rage on perceiving that he and all +his host were at the mercy of an army even now much weaker than his own. + +"There is neither help nor refuge, save with the Most High God!" cried +he, breaking his sword in twain in his despair; and drawing out his +pistols, he pointed them at his own heart. + +At that moment a hand snatched his weapons from him, and Ali Pasha saw +Zülfikar before him. + +"What wouldst thou do, madman?" cried he. "Thou wouldst not have me fall +into the hands of the unbelievers?" + +"I would deliver you and your host out of their hands," said Zülfikar. + +"By the shadow of Allah, thou dost speak brave words, and if thou +couldst but do as thou sayst, I would make thee the foremost of my +captains." + +"I desire no such honour. Promise me a thousand ducats, and send me as a +messenger to Banfi." + +"So that thou mayst betray my position to him, eh! thou cur?" + +"I've no need to do that. He can see it for himself from yon hill-top. +You are as good as dead and buried already, so that you have no choice +but to trust to me. You may hold out for a couple of days perhaps; but +then you and your bravest heroes must perish with hunger just like me. +We are all in the same evil case, there is nothing to choose between any +of us." + +"And what wouldst thou do, wretched slave?" + +"Induce Banfi to withdraw his troops from the road leading to Kalota, +and thus leave us a loophole of escape." + +"And dost thou think that possible?" + +"It may, or it may not be so. Where death is certain, a man cares not +what he risks. If I can speak to Banfi this evening, you may be able to +escape the same night. If I succeed, well. If not, we shall be no worse +off than we are now." + +"The fellow speaks boldly. Do as thou dost desire. I'll trust thee. +Allah alone reads the secrets of the heart. Go!" + +Zülfikar laid down his arms, and went all alone down to the narrow pass +leading to Kalota. When he came to the Hungarian outposts, his eyes fell +upon rows of dead Turks who had been hung up on the trees along the +wayside. This sight did not appear to disturb the renegade in the least. +He stepped boldly among the Magyars, and as they seized him, said +quickly to them in the purest Hungarian-- + +"Bring me to Denis Banfi. I am his spy!" + +"You lie!" cried they. "Sling him up." + +"I can prove it," continued Zülfikar, with a loud voice, and taking a +neatly-folded parchment out of his turban, he handed it to the captain. + +The letter contained these words-- + +"I, Gregory Söter, hereby declare to all the commanders of the Hungarian +troops that Zülfikar, the bearer of this letter, is my faithful war-spy. +Let him pass free everywhere." + +The captain gave back the letter, not without grumbling, and bade two of +his soldiers lead Zülfikar to Banfi, but they were to cut him down at +once if the general did not acknowledge him. However, at the first +glance Banfi recognized in him Pongracz, Balassa's former servant, and +motioned to his men to leave them alone together. + +"So you have turned Turk?" said Banfi. + +"This is no time for questions, my lord. 'Tis for me to speak, and to +the point. I'll be brief, if you'll let me. Emerich Balassa expelled me +from his house when he learnt that I had helped you to abduct Azrael." + +"Good!" said Banfi, contracting his brows. "The girl has flown from me +too--whither, I know not." + +"Yes, my lord, you do; and the worst of it is, others know it also. +Close to the Gradina Dracului there is a habitation among the rocks, and +there she dwells." + +"Silence!" cried Banfi, aghast. "How know you that?" + +"Balassa has lodged a complaint with the Prince about the abduction of +the girl. The matter is not such a trifle as you imagine. Azrael is the +Sultan's daughter, who, after being betrothed to Ali Pasha, was carried +off by Corsar Beg, whom Balassa's poison alone saved from the silken +cord, while Balassa himself has become a homeless vagabond because of +her. She has been the ruin of all who ever possessed her. It is your +turn now. The Prince having promised the disgraced Ladislaus Csaky +everything he likes to ask, if only he can ferret out the girl's +hiding-place, Csaky slyly commissioned the Patrol-officer to make +inquiries among the people whether a panther had been seen anywhere in +the woods, for he well knew that it is the habit of this wild beast to +roam about in search of prey. Its track led them to the rocky retreat, +the girl has been seen, and everything discovered." + +"Devils and hell!" cried Banfi, turning pale. + +"Listen further. Csaky communicated his plan to Ali Pasha, and it was +agreed between them that while the Pasha attacked Banfi-Hunyad, Csaky +with two thousand Wallachs was to scour the mountains under the pretext +of a hunt, and storm the Devil's Garden." + +"What infernal villainy!" cried Banfi, striking his sword with his fist. + +"It is just possible, my lord, that you might still arrive in time," +added the renegade insidiously, "if you do not stay here too long." + +"We'll be off at once," cried Banfi, pale with rage. "I'll teach these +lickspittlers to invade the domains of a free nobleman at the very +moment when he himself is fighting against the enemies of his country. A +few hundred men will be sufficient to keep Ali Pasha in check from this +side. With the rest I wager I'll be able to pull Master Ladislaus Csaky +out by the ears if I catch him trespassing." + +And immediately Banfi commanded his men to set out for Marisel as +swiftly and as silently as possible, and bade the little band he left +behind him light many large fires in the wood, so as to make the enemy +believe that the whole host was bivouacking there, while he himself +hastened towards the imperilled hiding-place. To Zülfikar he paid five +hundred gold pieces for his timely warning. + +The same night Ali Pasha fell with his whole host upon the two or three +hundred Hungarians whom Banfi had left behind him; scattered them after +a brief resistance, and hastened back to Grosswardein, swallowing as +best he could the indignity of a great defeat, for he left behind him +two thousand dead, and the whole of his baggage. + +From him too Zülfikar received the covenanted one thousand gold pieces, +thus doing a service to the Turks and to the Hungarians at the same +time, and making both of them pay him for his pains. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL. + + +The blast of hunting-horns resounded from the Batrina Mountains, the +hubbub of the chase came nearer and nearer; a group of well-dressed, +well-mounted gentlemen led the way, and at their head rode Count +Ladislaus Csaky. + +"After him! after him!" resounded on all sides, and the pack were +already in full cry, when the cavalcade, emerging from the thicket into +an open glade, suddenly encountered another party coming from the +opposite direction, in whose leader they all recognized Denis Banfi. +Csaky with considerable confusion called the beaters back. + +Banfi rode up to the group with an ironical smile. + +"Welcome, gentlemen, to my domains. Delighted, I'm sure, at my great +good fortune. Probably you have lost your way; but, if not, you are my +guests, and consequently doubly welcome. But, pray, why do you stare at +me so wildly? You really remind me of the Hindoo proverb, which says, He +who beats the woods for a stag, oftentimes falls in with a lion." + +"We regard your Excellency neither as a stag nor yet as a lion," +returned Csaky, blushing up to the ears in his confusion. "The fact is, +we fancied ourselves on lawful ground." + +"Of course! of course!" returned Banfi, with an offensive smile. "You +are on my property, and that is certainly lawful ground. I don't know +how to express my gratitude for such an honour. No doubt you are tired +too. I therefore invite you all to Bonczhida, just to take a little +pot-luck with me." + +"We are much obliged," returned Csaky angrily, "but we are unable just +now to accept your invitation." + +"Nay, nay; you'll not put me off. It is not my practice to let those who +have come to me as guests depart hungry and thirsty. I cannot regard +you as poachers, I suppose? And if you are not poachers, you must be +guests." + +"A third case is also possible." + +"I know of none." + +"Your Excellency shall learn from me that there is, though." + +"Quite right. But there will be time for that at table. So turn your +horses' heads towards Bonczhida, gentlemen." + +"I've already said that we can't accept your invitation." + +"What! Are you so ill acquainted with my hospitality as not to know +that, if necessary, I will carry you off by force? Ha, ha! You must take +away with you a reminiscence of Bonczhida. As you know now what my wild +animals are like, you must make the acquaintance of my domestic animals +also. In any case, I mean to take you by force." + +"A truce to jesting, Banfi. This is not the place for it." + +"Methinks 'tis you that jest. I am perfectly serious when I say that I +will take you with me even against your will." + +"We should like to see you do it." + +"Then see it you shall," and with that Banfi blew on his horn, and +instantly armed squadrons poured forth from every corner of the wood. +Count Csaky and his merry men were completely surrounded. + +"Ha! this is treachery!" cried Csaky wildly. + +"Oh dear, no! 'Tis only a little carnival jest," replied Banfi, +laughing. "This time 'tis the quarry which captures the huntsmen. +Forward, comrades! Take these gentlemen's horses by the bridles, and +follow me with them to Bonczhida. If any one stands upon ceremony, tie +his legs to the stirrups." + +"I protest against this compulsion," cried Csaky furiously. "I take you +all to witness that I enter my protest against this act of violence." + +"I for my part call every one to witness," repeated Banfi, laughing, +"that I've invited these gentlemen to a banquet in the most friendly +manner in the world." + +"I protest! 'Tis violence." + +"Nonsense! 'Tis a merry jest. 'Tis Hungarian hospitality!" + +Some of the gentlemen laughed, others swore. As however Banfi had +numbers on his side, the Csakyites sulkily and wrathfully submitted at +last to their jocose tyrant, and allowed themselves to be conducted to +Bonczhida, though Csaky stopped every one he met on the road, and took +them to witness that Banfi was doing him violence, while Banfi +laughingly endeavoured to make it plain to the good people that the +worthy gentleman was a trifle fuddled, and that they were playing a +harmless little practical joke upon him. + +"You will live to bitterly rue this!" cried Csaky, gnashing his teeth, +and half beside himself with rage. + +As they were passing through a village, one of Csaky's company, a young +nobleman, whom his friends called Szantho, broke away from the crowd and +vanished before he could be overtaken. + +"Let him go to the devil!" cried Banfi gaily. "We will manage to be +merry without him, eh! my lord Ladislaus Csaky?" + +Gradually Csaky recovered his sangfroid, and his wrath seemed to abate; +indeed, by the time they reached Bonczhida he wore a radiantly smiling +countenance, for he was well aware that it would be indecent as well as +ridiculous to pull wry faces before ladies. He therefore allowed himself +to be presented to Dames Apafi and Banfi as a chance guest picked up on +the way, without the least show of ill-humour. + +Banfi crowned his insult by assigning to Csaky the place of honour at +the head of the table, next his wife, and sitting opposite to him +treated him with the most marked attention, through which there ran, +however, a vein of the most trenchant irony. And Csaky was not even able +to resent it! What must his feelings have been! + +As the banquet was drawing to a close and the general mirth increased +proportionately, Csaky grew more and more furious. He was sitting all +the time on burning coals, and had to smile and simper as if he liked +it. At last Banfi invented a fresh torture for him, by raising his pocal +and drinking his guest's health. Csaky was obliged to clink glasses, +drain his own to the very dregs, and endure to see Banfi laughing at him +in his sleeve all the time. Every drop he drank was so much poison to +him with that mocking laugh ringing in his ears. + +And all this refined torture was so delicately veiled, that it escaped +the attention of the ladies altogether. + +Just as the mirth was most uproarious, the folding-doors suddenly flew +wide open, and, without any previous announcement, Prince Michael Apafi, +to whom the fugitive Szantho had brought the news of Csaky's capture, +entered the room. + +Both ladies, with a cry of joyful surprise, hastened towards the +unexpected guest; but the gentlemen, perceiving from the Prince's face +that a storm was brewing, suddenly became very grave. + +Banfi alone preserved his usual grand seignorial gaiety, which could +even express anger with a smiling countenance. He sprang quickly from +his seat, and hastened joyfully towards the Prince. + +"By Heaven, a lucky coincidence! Your Highness comes to us at the very +instant that we are draining our glasses in your Highness's honour. This +is what I call an unlooked-for and most timely arrival." + +Apafi received this salutation with a slight nod, and leading the ladies +back to their places, sat down himself on Banfi's chair. Several of the +guests hastened to offer Banfi their seats, but the Prince beckoned him +to approach. + +"Your Excellency will remain standing. We would submit you to a little +friendly cross-examination." + +"If we are to be the judges in this case," interrupted the learned +Master Csekalusi, taking up his glass, "allow me to inform you that the +necessary preliminaries[40] have already been observed." + + [Footnote 40: A banquet was the usual prelude to + judicial as to all other public proceedings in + Hungary.] + +"I will be the judge," said Apafi; "although I do not quite know who is +the master at Bonczhida, myself or Denis Banfi." + +"The law of the land is the master of us both, your Highness," returned +Banfi. + +"Well answered! You would remind us that an Hungarian nobleman permits +no one to sit in judgment upon him in his own house. But this affair is +after all only a little carnival jest. At least you have been pleased to +call it so, and we will follow your example." + +The most anxious suspense was legible in the faces of all present: they +did not know whether the jest would end seriously or the reverse. + +"Your Excellency," continued Apafi, "has seized our envoy, Lord +Ladislaus Csaky, and brought him to your house by force." + +"Ah!" cried Banfi, with affected astonishment, "I see it all now. Why +then did not the Count tell me at once that you had sent him to hunt in +my preserves? And besides, if your Highness had taken a fancy to some of +my game, why did you not let me know it? I would have shot more +excellent bucks for your Highness than any that my Lord Csaky could +catch." + +"This has nothing to do with bucks, my lord baron. You know very well +the ins and outs of the whole business. Don't force me to speak out +plumply before these ladies." + +At these words Lady Banfi would have risen, but the Princess prevented +her. + +"You must remain here," she whispered in her ear. + +"So far, I don't understand a single word," said Banfi, in an injured +tone. + +"No? Then we'll recall to your mind a couple of circumstances. The +peasants have caught sight of a panther in your woods." + +"It is possible," returned Banfi, laughing--for a Hungarian gentleman +may jest with his guests but never be rude to them, however much they +offend him--"it is possible that this panther is a descendant of those +which came into the land with Árpád,[41] and may therefore be called +ancestral panthers." + + [Footnote 41: Árpád, the primeval ancestor of the + Hungarian princes, who first led the Magyars into the + plains of Hungary. He died in 907. With Hungarians, to + come in with Árpád is like our coming over with the + Conqueror.] + +"It is no matter for jesting, my lord. That panther has torn a young +Wallach to pieces in the sight of several persons, wherefore I sent out +Lord Ladislaus Csaky to hunt down the beast and kill it. And Csaky had +seen the monster and was hard upon it when you met him in the forest and +stopped him." + +"Lord Ladislaus Csaky no doubt mistook his own tiger-skin for a +panther." + +"No gibes, please. The lair of the monster is discovered. Do you +understand me now?" + +"I understand your Highness. But 'twas a pity to put my lord Csaky to so +much inconvenience for such a trifle. So 'twas he then who discovered +the pleasure-house which I built over a hot spring among the rocks? +Well, I don't think even such a discovery as that will earn for him the +title of a Columbus." + +"You persist in sneering then? Will nothing make you bow your haughty +head? Suppose now I knew the secret of that mysterious cave, what +then?" + +Banfi began to change colour, and he answered in a low, husky voice, +like a man who finds it very difficult not to speak the truth. + +"'Tis a very simple matter, sir. It was I who discovered Börvolgy; but +as soon as the rumour of the hot spring spread abroad, the public tried +to take possession of it. Now, I had also discovered a rich mineral vein +beneath the Gradina Dracului, and to prevent it from being appropriated, +I had a little private pleasure-house built there among the rocks for +the exclusive use of my wife." + +By these last words Banfi wished to make the Prince understand that he +ought to spare his wife, but they produced exactly the contrary effect. + +"Oh, you vile hypocrite!" cried the Prince, starting up and striking the +table with his clenched fist. "You would use your wife as a cloak, well +knowing all the time that you keep there a Turkish girl on whose account +the Sultan is about to ravage the land with fire and sword!" + +Lady Banfi uttered a piercing shriek. Her sister whispered in her ear-- + +"Be strong! Now is the time to show what you are made of." + +Banfi furiously bit his lips, but controlled himself with a mighty +effort, and answered calmly-- + +"That is not true, sir! That I deny!" + +"What! Not true! There are people who have seen her." + +"Who?" + +"Clement, the Patrol-officer." + +"Clement the poet? Ah! We all know that lying is the masterpiece of +poets." + +"Very well, my lord baron. As you deny everything, I will try to get to +the bottom of the matter myself. I will therefore go in person to the +place in question, and if I find confirmation of that whereof you are +accused, let me tell you that a threefold punishment awaits you: first, +for the rape of the Turkish girl; next, for the violence done to a +princely messenger; and thirdly, for adultery. Each one of these deeds +is sufficient in itself to hurl you down from your presumptuous height. +My lord Csaky, lead us to this place; and you, my lord Denis Banfi, will +in the meantime remain here." + +Banfi stood there with a bloodless face, and his feet rooted to the +ground. + +Meanwhile his wife had risen from her seat, and rallying all her +strength with a supreme effort, stepped in front of the Prince and +said-- + +"Sir, pardon my husband! He knows nothing of this thing--the fault is +mine--the woman whom you seek turned to me for protection in her hour of +need--and--I concealed her in that place--without my husband's +knowledge." + +Every word she spoke seemed to cost the pale, fragile lady superhuman +exertion. Banfi turned very red and cast down his eyes before her. The +Princess looked triumphantly at her sister and pressed her hand. + +"Well done!" she whispered. "That was indeed noble and heroic!" + +Apafi saw through the magnanimous fraud; but he was determined that +Banfi should not escape him that way, so, turning wrathfully upon him, +he exclaimed-- + +"And you permit your wife to commit such indiscretions, which might so +easily ruin your family, nay, the realm itself? She must be punished for +it, and I therefore request you to reprimand her on the spot!" + +Lady Banfi, full of resignation, sank down upon her knees before her +guests, and bowed her head like a criminal awaiting punishment. + +"It is not my practice to correct my wife in public," murmured Banfi, +with an unsteady voice. + +"Then I'll do so myself," cried Apafi; and approaching the lady he +said--"You deserve, madame, to be sent to jail!" + +"That I would not allow, sir!" muttered Banfi between his teeth. + +He was now as pale as a corpse. All his blood, all his fire, seemed +concentrated in his eyes. All his muscles quivered with shame and rage. + +"Gentlemen!" interrupted a sweet, sonorous voice. How soothingly it +sounded amidst the rough contention of angry men. It was the voice of +the Princess, who stepped between the lady and her accuser. "In former +times," she cried reproachfully, "noblemen were ever wont to respect +noble ladies." + +"So you are again at hand to defend those whom I attack?" cried the +Prince petulantly. + +"I am again at hand to prevent your Highness from committing an act of +injustice. I have always the _right_ to defend my sister--but it becomes +my _duty_ to do so when she is insulted!" + +With these words the Princess embraced Margaret, who no sooner felt +herself in the embrace of a stronger than herself, than she lost all her +artificial strength, and sank senseless into her sister's arms. + +Banfi would have hastened to his wife's assistance, but Dame Apafi waved +him back. + +"Go!" cried she; "I'll take care of her!" + +"Then you mean to remain here?" said the Prince to his consort, in a +voice trembling between wrath and compassion. + +"My sister has need of me--and you, I see, can do without me." + +Apafi, ever since his wife had begun to speak, had plainly lowered his +crest, and fearing lest she might rout him altogether, he hastily +quitted the battle-field with a half triumph. He could not fail to be +very much discontented with the result of his investigation. He felt +that he had wounded Banfi in a sore place, but he also felt that the +wound was not mortal. The great nobleman had been affronted rather than +humbled. So much the worse for him! What will not bend must be broken. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVÁR. + + +It is the fate of many a town, as of many a nation, to rise from the +dead. + +One people perishes there. The walls fall to pieces. The name of the +town passes into oblivion. And again there comes another people, which +builds upon the ruins, gives the place a new name; and while the old +stones, cast one upon another, seem to bewail the past, the city, +radiant with new palaces, rejoices in its youth like a flattered beauty. + +The hill on which Transylvania's only fortress stands was once covered +with massive buildings by Diurban's race. Who now remembers so much as +its name? The Roman legions subjected the nation, threw down the +shapeless walls, and instead of the altar dedicated to the Blood-God, +and stained with human sacrifices, there arose a temple of Vesta; the +wooden palace of the Dacian duke vanished, and the marble halls of the +proprætor took its place, with their Corinthian columns, their white +mosaic floor, their artistically carved divinities. The place was then +called _Colonia Apulensis_. + +Again the town grew old, fell down, and died. + +A new and mightier race came into it; the former inhabitants were buried +beneath the ruins of their palaces and temples, and instead of the +proprætor's palace, the gilded and enamelled dwelling of Duke Gyula,[42] +with its skittle-shaped roof, towered up like an enchanted castle from +the Thousand and One Nights, and on the ruins of the temple of Vesta the +pagan forefathers of the Magyars built altars under the open sky, where +they worshipped the sun, the stars, and a naked sword. Then the town was +called Gyula-Fehervár.[43] + + [Footnote 42: _Gyula_ = Julius. The heathen Prince of + Transylvania at the end of the tenth century.] + + [Footnote 43: _Gyula-Fehervár._ White Julius' town.] + +A century passed, and Stephen, saint and king, cast down the altars of +the fire-worshippers, and built a vast church on the spot where so many +false gods had been adored. The sun-worshippers disappeared, and the +Christian world called the church after the name of the Archangel +Michael. + +What sort of church was it?--Nobody can now tell! Two centuries later +the Tartars came, levelled town and church with the ground, and put the +population to the sword. On their departure they gave to the town the +scornful nickname Nigra-Julia.[44] + + [Footnote 44: _Nigra Julia._ Black Julia.] + +Our nation's greatest man, John Hunniady, rebuilt it. Traces of his huge +Gothic arches may still be found there. In the crypt, built at the same +time, all the Princes of Transylvania were buried in richly-carved +sarcophagi. Here _rested_ Hunniady himself and his headless son +Ladislaus.[45] They _rested_ here, but only for a time. Robber-hordes +came and scattered the sacred relics, and devastated the church, and the +succeeding princes who patched it up again during the Turkish dominion, +added to the Gothic groundwork the peculiarities of Arab architecture, +serpentine columns, and Moorish arabesques. + + [Footnote 45: _Ladislaus Hunniady._ The eldest son of + the great hero, treacherously beheaded in 1456.] + +And last of all came the renovations and restorations of modern +times--four-cornered towers, with little low windows and shapeless +portals. The arabesques were all white-washed, and where here and there +the mortar falls from the walls, you may catch a glimpse of the stones +with which the church was originally built, relics of every age which +has visited the place and vanished tracklessly. Here sculptured +fragments of the old Mythra cultus; there mutilated Vestals. Below, the +top of an ancient altar with the broken symbol of a sun upon it; above, +florid and fantastic arabesques. + +And again the town lost its name. + +They call it now Karoly-Fehervár.[46] + + [Footnote 46: _Karoly-Fehervár._ White Charles' town. + German: Karlsburg.] + + * * * * * + +At the time in which our story is laid, this town was the place where +the Princes of Transylvania used to be consecrated and the Diets to be +held. Where the episcopal palace now stands stood then the Prince's +residence, restored by John Sigismund,[47] with marble inlaid chambers, +and walls covered with battle-pieces in fresco. The great hall where the +Diet met was separated from the surrounding chambers by a balustrade of +tinted marble. Round about the walls hung the busts of princes and +woywodes interspersed with trophies. In front stood the throne covered +with purple, and round about it a triumphal baldachin made of banners, +shields, and morning-stars. + + [Footnote 47: John Sigismund Zapolya (1540-1571), with + whom the line of the Transylvanian princes began.] + +The rest of the town was scarcely in keeping with the pomp of the +Prince's residence, for in 1618 the Diet had been obliged to command the +inhabitants to cease dwelling in tents, and build up their ruinous +houses again. + + * * * * * + +The Estates of the Realm have already assembled. Every one is in his +place. Only the seat of the Prince is still vacant. + +There they sit in order of precedence--the Transylvanian patricians, the +heads of the Hungarian nobility, the most eminent in wit, wealth, and +valour--the Bethlens, the Csakys, the Lazars, the Kemenys, the Mikeses, +the Banfis!--those mediæval clans whose will is the nation's, whose +deeds form its history, whose ancestors, grandfathers and fathers, have +either perished on the battle-field in defence of their princes, or on +the scaffold for defying them. And their descendants loyally follow +their examples. A new prince comes to the throne, and they take up again +the swords which have fallen from their fathers' hands--to wield it for +or against him, as Fate may decree. + +The Szekler deputies with their homely garb and sullen, dogged faces, +and the Saxon burghers with their simple, round, red countenances, and +their primeval German costume, form a striking contrast to the dashing +and resplendent Hungarian magnates. + +The mob assembled in the galleries and behind the barrier presents a +most motley picture. Many amongst it can be seen pointing out the +celebrities to their neighbours, or shaking their fists at the deputies +they dislike. + +At last a flourish of trumpets announces that the Prince has arrived. +The pages throw open the doors. The crowd shouts "Eljen!" His Highness +appears surrounded by his court. + +Denis Banfi, as Marshal of the Diet, leads the way, with the national +standard in his right hand. Beside him is Paul Beldi of Uzoni, who, as +Captain-General of the Szeklers, bears the mace. Behind them comes the +Prime Minister, Master Michael Teleki, bringing with him in a silken +case the Imperial _athname_: all three gentlemen are in gorgeous robes +of state. In the midst walks the Prince himself, in a magnificent green +velvet kaftan and an ermine embroidered hat: he holds the sceptre in his +hand. Around and behind him throng the foreign ambassadors, foremost +among whom stand the Sultan's envoy in a robe sparkling with diamonds; +Forval, the Minister of Louis XIV., a sleek, courtly man, with silken +ribbons in his dolman, gold lace on his hat, and a richly-embossed +sword-scabbard; his colleague, the Abbé Reverend, with a smiling +countenance, his lilac surplice fastened by a purple sash; and +Sobieski's minister, wearing a _bekesch_ with divided sleeves, which so +closely resembles the Magyar costume. + +All these dignitaries now take their places. The ambassadors remain +behind the Prince's throne; and while the long and tedious protocols of +the last Diet are being read, many of them engage in conversation with +the lords behind the barrier. + +Among these latter we perceive Nicholas Bethlen, the young Transylvanian +whose acquaintance we made a long time ago in Zrinyi's hunting suite. He +is now a vivacious and sensible young man, having spent his youth in +travelling through all the civilized countries of Europe, cultivating +the acquaintance of their most famous men, and even of their princes, +and appropriating the progressive ideas of the age, without losing +anything of his national peculiarities. The French themselves tell us +that it was he who first acquainted them with the hussar's uniform, and +that the dolman he wore at Versailles served Louis XIV. as a pattern for +equipping his first Hussar regiments. + +When Bethlen caught sight of Forval, whom he had learnt to know in +Paris, he hastened to his side and greeted him heartily. + +"You'll lose the thread of the discussion," said Forval, hearing that +something was being read, but not knowing what. + +"So far, they can get on without me. The bills now before the house +merely regulate how many dishes should be set before servants; or +discuss the best method of compelling poor people to grow rich enough to +pay more taxes. When the real business of the day begins you will find +me also in my place." + +"Then tell me in the meantime who are the capable men here, and who are +not. You know everything about Transylvania." Forval had only just +arrived there. + +"Such a classification is by no means an easy one," returned Bethlen. +"Formerly, when I was a party man myself, and had seen no country but my +own, I was quite convinced that all the members of my own party were +honest men, and all its opponents scoundrels without exception; but now +that I have severed party ties, and seen a little of the world, I begin +to perceive that a man may be a good patriot, an honest man, a valiant +warrior, or the reverse, whether he belongs to the Right or the Left. +Everything depends on the point of view you take. However, as you desire +it, I will give you my own views of the state of parties, you can then +draw your own conclusions. That proud man on the right of the Prince is +Denis Banfi; the one on the left is Paul Beldi. They are the two most +eminent men in the land, and both are determined opponents of the war it +is proposed to commence; in all else they are adversaries, but on this +one point they are inseparable. Banfi seems to be in league with the +Emperor, Beldi with the Turk. In their opinion Transylvania is strong +enough to drive back every invader of her territories, but not strong +enough to play the invader herself. Now cast a glance at that baldish +man on the left of the Prince. That is Michael Teleki. 'Tis the genius +of that man which alone keeps the other two in check. He is a near +relative of the Princess, and would renew here the war which has been +the ruin of the national party in Hungary. The trial of strength between +those three men will be an interesting spectacle." + +"And if the peace party should prevail?" + +"Then the nation will have declared for peace." + +"And the Prince cannot go against it?" + +"Here, my friend, we are not at the Court of Versailles, where a Prince +may venture to say, '_L'état--c'est moi!_' Each of those three men has +as much authority here as the Prince, and their authority is one with +his. But let him only try to act against the will of the nation, and he +will soon become aware that he stands alone. So, again, those great +nobles would remain isolated if they undertook anything in opposition to +the Diet." + +"Be candid now. Do you think the war party will prevail?" + +"Scarcely this time. I do not yet see the man who can bring a war about. +Amongst the whole Hungarian party there is no one fit to become the +ideal of a martial nation. Zrinyi has perished. Rakoczi has deserted it. +Teleki knows how to overthrow but not how to create parties. Besides, he +is no warrior, and it is a warrior that they want. He represents cold +reason, and here there is need of a soul of fire. He has no _mission_ to +fight for Hungary, but only a political interest. One of the Hungarian +magnates, that moustacheless youth yonder, Emerich Tököli, has lately +sued for his daughter's hand in order to engage the father in his +interests. Mark my words. That young man has a career before him. His +one idea is power--and Fortune is fickle, and her instruments are many." + +This cold consultation was somewhat distasteful to Forval. Meanwhile the +tiresome recitation of the protocols had come to an end, and Bethlen +took his seat. + +The Prince very sulkily informed the Estates that the reason he had +summoned them would now be explained to them by Master Michael Teleki; +then, wrapping himself in his kaftan, he leaned negligently back in the +depths of his huge arm-chair. + +Teleki stood up, waited until the applause of the crowd had subsided, +then, casting a calm look upon Banfi, thus began-- + +"Worshipful and valiant Orders and Estates! The recent events in Hungary +are well known to you all, and if you did not know them, you need only +cast a glance around you, and the sad, despairing faces with which your +assembly has been augmented would tell their own tale. These are our +unfortunate Hungarian brethren, once the flower of the nation, now its +withered leaves, which the storm has scattered far and wide. You have +not denied your kinsmen in their adversity; you have shared hearth and +home with them; you have mingled your tears with theirs. But oh! they +have not turned to us for the bread of charity, or for womanly +lamentations. Thou, Bocskai,[48] thou, Bethlen,[49] whose images now +look down upon us from these walls with dumb reproaches; whose +victorious, dust-stained banners wave around the throne, why can you not +rise up again in our midst to seize those banners, and thunder in the +ears of an irresolute generation--The banished beg of you a country, the +houseless a home?" + + [Footnote 48: Stephan Bocskai, Prince of Transylvania, + 1605-1606. A great statesman and warrior.] + + [Footnote 49: Gabriel Bethlen, the wisest of all the + Transylvanian princes. He reigned 1601-1629.] + +Here Teleki paused as if awaiting applause, but every one remained +perfectly silent; mere rhetoric did not affect that Assembly in the +least. Teleki saw his mistake, and instantly changed his tactics. + +"You reply to my words by silence. Am I to take it that _qui tacet, +negat_? I'll never believe that your hearts are too cold to be fired. +You only hesitate because you would count up your forces. But let me +tell you that we shall not take the field alone. The sight of our +despoiled churches and our enslaved clergy has called all the Protestant +princes of Europe to arms. Even the Belgian King, whom our fate concerns +least of all, has rescued our brethren in the faith from the Neapolitan +galleys; nor has the sword of Gustavus Adolphus grown rusty in its +sheath. Nay, more, even the most Catholic of princes, even the followers +of Mahommed, are ready to assist our cause. Behold the King of France, +at this moment the mightiest ruler in Europe, raising troops for us, not +only in his own land, but in Poland also; and, if necessary, the Sultan +certainly will not scruple to break a peace that was forced upon him; or +he will, at the very least, place his frontier troops at our disposal. +And when all around us we hear the din of battle, when every one grasps +the sword, shall we alone leave ours in its scabbard, we who owe so much +to our brethren and to ourselves? What happened to them yesterday may +happen to us to-morrow, and what country will then offer us a refuge? +Therefore, my fellow-patriots, hearken to the prayers of the banished as +if you stood in their places; for I tell you, that a time may come when +you will be as they are now; and as you treat them now, so will Destiny +treat you then!" + +Teleki had done. He fixed his eyes on Denis Banfi as if he knew +beforehand that he would be the first to reply to him. + +Banfi arose. It was plain that he was making a great effort to keep +within bounds and speak dispassionately. + +"My noble colleagues!" he began, in an unusually calm voice. "Compassion +towards unfortunate kinsmen and hatred of ancient foes are sentiments +which become a man; but in politics there is no room for sentiment. In +this place we are neither kinsmen, nor friends, nor yet foes; we are +simply and solely patriots, whose first duty it is to coolly calculate, +for, to say nothing of the joy or grief resulting from it, the fate of a +whole land depends upon the issue of our deliberations. Now the question +before us is really this: Are we to stake the existence of Transylvania +for the sake of Hungary? Are we to shed our blood for the sake of +raising her from the dead? Listen not to your hearts, they can only +feel--'tis the head that thinks. Just now there is peace in +Transylvania. The people are beginning to be happy; the towns are rising +from their ashes; the mourning weeds are gradually being laid aside, and +ears of corn are ripening on fields of blood. At present the Magyar is +his own master in Transylvania. No stranger, no adversary, no protector +exacts tribute from him. None may interfere in our deliberations. The +neighbouring powers are obliged to protect us, and we are not obliged to +do them homage for it. Reflect well upon all this ere you stake +everything on one cast of the die! Would you again see all Transylvania +turned into a huge battle-field, and your vassals transformed into an +army, perhaps not even a victorious army? And even if our hosts were +sufficient, who is there to lead them? None of us has inherited the +genius of a Bethlen or of a Bocskai; neither I, nor Master Teleki. And +then again, whom can we trust besides ourselves? The capricious Louis +XIV. perhaps? His policy can be changed every moment by a pair of bright +eyes. If we depended only on him, a petty Versailles intrigue might +leave us in the lurch when we most required assistance." + +Here Forval coughed to conceal his annoyance. + +"As for Sobieski," continued Banfi, "depend upon it he will not attack +his present ally the Emperor for our sweet sakes; nor will the Sultan +break his oath as lightly as Master Michael Teleki seems to imagine. +What then remains for us to do? Call the nomadic Tartars into Hungary, I +suppose! The poor Hungarian population would certainly express their +gratitude for such assistance as that! Your ideal Hungarian, Nicolas +Zrinyi, used to tell a tale which deserves to be handed down to our +latest posterity. The devil was carrying a Szekler away on his back. The +Szekler's neighbour met and thus accosted him: 'Whither away, gossip?' +'I am being carried to hell,' said he. 'Eh! but that is a very bad job,' +returned the other. 'Yes, but it might be much worse,' replied the +rogue. 'Just fancy if he were to sit on my back, dig his spurs into me, +and compel me to carry him instead!'--Let every one apply this fable as +he thinks best. For my part, I cannot quite decide which I fear the +most, the enmity of the Emperor or the amity of the Sultan. For, tell +me, what will be the end of this war? If we conquer with the aid of the +Sultan, Transylvania will become a Turkish Pachalic; if we are +conquered, we shall sink into an Austrian province, while now we are a +free and independent State by the grace of God! In any case Hungary's +fate is bound to improve, and that fate touches my heart quite as much +as theirs who fancy they can heal the sick man with the sword. But +nothing is to be won in that way. How much blood has not already been +shed without the slightest result? Let us try some other way. Surely the +Magyar has sense enough to subdue by his intellectual superiority those +whom he cannot overcome by force of arms? Subdue your conquerors, I say. +You who are second to none in sense, energy, wealth, and the beauty of +manliness, why do you not take the highest posts which belong to you of +right? If you were to sit where the Pázmáns[50] and the Esterhazys[51] +have sat, there would be no room left for a Lobkovich.[52] If instead of +fighting petty, fruitless battles now and then, you were to use your +intellects and your influence, you might make your land happy without +costing her a drop of blood. It rests with you to restore once more the +age of Louis the Great,[53] that foreign prince who became enamoured of +his adopted people, turned Magyar, and made the nation as great and as +powerful as the nation made him. The Estates of Transylvania will +undertake to mediate between Hungary and the Emperor, and so get you +back your privileges and your possessions. I will be the first to +stretch out a helping hand, and assuredly Master Michael Teleki will be +the second. If, however, you do not accept this offer, then, I say, +beware of what you do. As to the prophecy--Our turn to-day, yours +to-morrow! I'll only say, Fear nothing for Transylvania. I'll be bold to +say, that whoever invades her by force of arms, will always find a host +of equal strength ready to meet him; but let me tell you, that that same +host will never be so foolhardy as to invade a foreign land." + + [Footnote 50: Cardinal Peter Pázmán (1570-1637), a + famous Hungarian patriot and statesman.] + + [Footnote 51: The celebrated Nicholas Esterhazy of + Galanta, Palatine of Hungary.] + + [Footnote 52: Lobkovich (Eusebius Vincent), Leopold + I.'s prime minister (1670-73), who attempted to make + the Emperor absolute in Hungary.] + + [Footnote 53: Louis the Great, King of Hungary, + 1342-1381.] + +"Then Hungary is to you a foreign land?" cried a mocking voice from the +crowd. + +This interruption was too much for Banfi's composure. He turned +furiously towards the quarter whence the question came, and meeting the +cold, contemptuous looks of the Hungarians assembled there, he quite +forgot himself; everything around him seemed to be in a whirl, and +dashing his kalpag to the ground, he cried-- + +"Right, right--indeed! A foreign land--nay more, a stepmother you have +always been to us. We have always had to suffer for your sins. We have +won victories, and you have frittered away the fruits of our victories. +Your discords have thrice brought Hungary low, and thrice have we raised +her from the dust. We have given you heroes; you have given us +traitors!" + +These last words Banfi was obliged to roar out at the top of his voice +to make himself heard above the ever-increasing din. The uproar was +general. Every one tried to shout down his neighbour. The Hungarian +gentlemen sprang from their seats and reviled Banfi. The graver members +of the peace party shook their heads when they saw how Banfi's +indiscretion had let loose the passions of the Assembly. + +Beldi now arose. All lovers of order cried at once--"Let us hear Beldi!" + +Then a young man suddenly leaped over the barrier, and placing his hand +on Teleki's arm-chair, planted himself in front of Banfi with a flushed +and defiant face. It was Emerich Tököli. + +"I too have got a word to say," cried he, in a voice audible above the +tumult. "I also have the right to say a word or two within this barrier. +If you will deny your mother, Hungary, and draw boundaries between her +and you, it is time for me to speak. I am just as good a territorial +noble here in Transylvania as that proud and petty demigod, whose father +before him was just such another reviler of his mother country!" + +Beldi was making his way towards Tököli to stop him from speaking, when +some one from behind seized his hand, and turning round, he was +astonished to see his own son-in-law, Paul Wesselenyi, who begged him to +step outside for a moment. + +Beldi retired into the lobby, while Tököli's voice thundered through the +hall above the never-ending din. + +A veiled lady awaited Beldi in the lobby, whom, when she had unveiled +her face, he had some difficulty in recognizing as his daughter Sophia, +so much had grief and care changed and broken her. Her beautiful eyes +were red with weeping. + +"We are homeless fugitives," sobbed Sophia, sinking on her father's +breast. "They have taken from us our Hungarian possessions; my husband +has been driven from his castle, and a price set on his head." + +Beldi became very serious. This unexpected ill-tidings pricked him to +the heart. Within, Tököli's thundering voice was raising a perfect +tempest of indignation, but Beldi no longer made haste back to quell it. + +"Remain with me," said he, with a troubled countenance; "here you can +dwell in peace till things improve." + +"Too late!" said Wesselenyi. "I have already enlisted under the flag of +the French General, Count Boham, as a common soldier." + +"You a common soldier! You, the descendant of the Palatine Wesselenyi! +And what in the meantime is to become of my daughter?" + +"She will remain behind with you--till Hungary has been won back again!" +and with these words he placed his wife in Beldi's arms, kissed her on +the forehead, and departed with dry eyes. + +Within raged the tumult. Beldi heard his daughter sobbing, and a bitter +feeling began to fill his breast, a feeling not unlike a nascent desire +of vengeance. He felt almost pleased that war was being demanded within +there; and he, the leader of the peace party, was also just about to +draw his sword, rush into the Diet, and exclaim--"War! war! and +retribution!" when the pages led into the lobby an old man as pale as +death, who, recognizing Beldi, staggered up to him and addressed him in +a trembling voice-- + +"My lord, are you not the Captain-General of the Szeklers, Paul Beldi of +Uzoni?" + +"Yes. What do you want with me?" + +"I am the last inhabitant of Benfalva!" stammered the dying man. "War, +famine, and pestilence have carried off all the others. I alone remain, +and feeling that I too am on the point of death, I have brought you the +official seal of the place and the church bell. Give them to the Diet. +Preserve them in the archives, and write over them--'These are the bell +and the seal of what was once Benfalva, the inhabitants of which utterly +perished.'" + +Beldi's nerveless arm dropped the hilt of his sword, and he tore himself +from his daughter's embrace. + +"Go to your mother at Bodola, and learn to bear your fate with a stout +heart!" + +Then he took the seal and the bell from the dying man, and hastened back +to the hall of the Diet, where Tököli had just finished his speech, +which had produced a terrible effect on the Assembly. The French +ministers were shaking hands with him. + +Beldi stepped up to the president's table, and placed upon it the seal +which had just been handed to him. + +Every one looked at him, and seeing that he was about to speak, became +silent. + +"Look!" cried he, with a voice broken by emotion. "A desolated town +sends its official seal to the Diet by its last inhabitant. There are +already enough of such towns in Transylvania, and in time there may be +more. War and famine have wasted the fairest portions of our land. You +should not forget, gentlemen, to place this seal among your +other--trophies!" + +At these last words Beldi's voice sank almost to a whisper, yet so deep +was the silence, that he was heard distinctly in every part of the hall. +A thrill of horror passed through every one present. + +"Outside that door I hear some one weeping," continued Beldi, with +quivering lips. "It is my own dear daughter, the wife of Paul +Wesselenyi, who, driven from her fatherland, on her knees implored me, +as I loved her, to let the _lex talionis_ assert its rights. But I say, +let my child weep, let her perish, may I also perish with my whole +family if need be, but let not the curse of war fall on Transylvania! +May no one in Transylvania have cause to weep because I suffer. No! I +would declare against war though every one here present were for it.... +Gentlemen!... this seal ... and the other relic too ... forget not to +preserve them among your trophies!" + +Beldi sat down. Long after his words had ceased to sound, a death-like +silence continued to prevail. + +Teleki, ascribing this silence to indignation against Beldi, very +confidently arose, and bade the Estates give their votes. But for once +he had wrongly felt the pulse of public opinion, for the majority of +the Diet, deeply touched by the foregoing scene, voted for peace. So +great was still the influence of Banfi and Beldi in the land. + +Teleki looked with some confusion at his future son-in-law, who clenched +his fists, and murmured bitterly with tears in his eyes-- + +"Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo!" + + * * * * * + +As the Assembly broke up, Forval and Nicholas Bethlen again met +together. + +"So our hope that Transylvania will take up arms has been dashed," +observed the crestfallen Frenchman. + +"On the contrary, our hope only now begins," returned Bethlen, tapping +his friend on the shoulder. "Did you hear that young man Tököli speak?" + +"Yes; he spoke very prettily." + +"Prettily or not, it strikes me that he is just the man you seek." + +"A King of Hungary, eh?"[54] + + [Footnote 54: Tököli (Emerich), the most extraordinary + Hungarian of his day, famous for his marvellous courage + and beauty, his adventures and vicissitudes. In 1682 + the Turks proclaimed him Prince of Hungary, and for the + next five years he disputed possession of that country + with the Emperor. After being twice thrown in prison by + the Sultan, he was released and proclaimed Prince of + Transylvania, but, after many successes, was finally + obliged to fly to Turkey. He was excluded by name from + the general amnesty at the Peace of Lovicz, 1697, + between the Turks and the Emperor; but the Sultan made + him Count of Widdin and one of his chief counsellors. + He died in 1705 at Nicomedia in Bithynia. He married + Helen Zrinyi, who accompanied him everywhere with + heroic fidelity.] + +"Either that or an outlaw. Fate will decide." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE JUS LIGATUM.[55] + + + [Footnote 55: _Jus ligatum._ The right of conspiring + secretly against an offender unreachable by the + ordinary law.] + +'Tis a good old custom which requires that every ceremony should end +with a feast, and so the boisterous Diet was succeeded by a still more +boisterous banquet, whereat Michael Apafi also presided; and here he was +in his proper place, for the chronicles tell us that a skin of wine at a +sitting was a mere nothing to his Highness. + +Wine inflames hate as well as love. When ladies are at table, we must +look to our hearts; but when only men sit down together, our heads are +often in danger. + +After dinner, according to Transylvanian custom, the guests stood up to +drink. Conversation flows more easily thus, and the Prince, going the +round of his guests, presented to them an overflowing beaker with his +own hand, challenging them one by one to drain it--"Come, a toast--my +health, the welfare of the realm, and whatever else you like!" + +The gentlemen were in high good-humour, and kept falling out with each +other and making it up again from sheer lightness of heart. Only one man +was quite sober--Michael Teleki, who never drank at all. + +Beware of the man who keeps sober while every one else is in his cups. + +Teleki went about among the wrangling roysterers, and lingered for a +long time round Banfi's chair. When the magnate caught sight of him, +creeping about like a cat, he turned sharply round upon him. + +"Why, how sad you look!" he cried, with a mocking laugh; "just like a +man whose coveted palatinate falls into the dust before his eyes." + +That was all Teleki wanted. + +With a smile, beneath which there lurked a deadly sting, he replied-- + +"That is no merit of yours. If Paul Beldi had not been present, you +would have been left all alone with your vote. But I must confess that +we all bow before such a distinguished man as Paul Beldi. The whole +nation cries Amen! to whatever he says." + +Teleki then bowed low, with a semblance of deep respect, well aware that +he had sent a venomous shaft into the proud magnate's heart, for nothing +wounded Banfi so much as to see some one honoured above himself, +especially some one who really deserved it. + +Teleki next turned to Beldi, drew him into a window-niche, and thus +began in his suavest manner-- + +"I had always held your Excellency for a very magnanimous man, but +to-day I learnt to recognize you as doubly such, though it was to my own +detriment. The Diet only knows that in voting for peace you sacrificed +your fatherly affection; but _I_ know that at the same time you +sacrificed your hatred of Banfi." + +"I?--I have never hated Banfi." + +"I know why you conceal your hatred. You fancy that no one knows your +secret reasons for it. My friend, we men know well that a sword-thrust +may be forgiven, but a _kiss_ never." + +Beldi started. He knew not what reply to make to this man, who, after +planting the sting of jealousy in his heart, quitted him with a smiling +countenance, leaving the wound to rankle. + +At that moment Banfi appeared behind Beldi's back with his haughtiest +air. He was burning to make Beldi feel his haughtiness, and was thinking +how he could best pick a quarrel with him. + +Beldi at first did not perceive him, and when the Prince, chancing to +stray into that part of the room, holding a costly pocal set with +turquoises, which he affably extended, saying familiarly--"Drink, my +cousin!" Beldi, fancying that the invitation was meant for him, and +never suspecting that any one was behind him, took the cup out of the +Prince's hand, and drained it to his Highness's health, at the very +moment when Banfi also held out his hand towards it. + +Banfi, purple with rage, turned furiously upon Beldi, and said in his +most insulting tone-- + +"Not so fast, Szekler. You might, I think, have a little more respect +for the Marshal of the Diet, and not snatch away the cup from beneath my +very nose. Let me tell you, sir, that if you persist in such courses, +you and I shall fall out!" + +Beldi was anything but a quarrelsome man. Had he been in another frame +of mind, he would simply have apologized for his mistake. But now he too +was in a pugnacious mood, so, calmly measuring Banfi from head to foot, +he replied with suppressed rage-- + +"Yes, Denis, I am a Szekler, as you say, and a tough one too; and if it +came to a bout between us, and I fell uppermost, I'd give you such a +squeeze that you'd never raise your head again in this world." + +"Come, come! What's all this nonsense about?" cried the Prince, +intervening. "I'm surprised at you, gentlemen! _Inter pocula non sunt +seria tractanda._" And, with that, Apafi compelled the two magnates to +shake hands with each other, and then passed on, thinking that the whole +affair was a mere drunken brawl, and that he had put it right. + +But it did not escape Teleki that, immediately after this scene, both +the magnates quitted the room, and he learnt soon afterwards that they +had suddenly left Fehervár, thus leaving the field clear for him. + +Teleki and his satellites remained alone with the half-besotted Prince. + +"Drink, gentlemen! drink! be merry!" cried Apafi. "Don't drop off one by +one! Who last went out there?" + +"Beldi!" cried several voices. + +"Ah, I understand! The poor fellow has not seen his wife for a long +time. Let him go. And who else has gone?" + +"Banfi!" + +"What? Banfi too? What's the meaning of that?" + +"He has gone to lord it at home?" sneered Szekely, one of Teleki's +creatures. + +"He can't endure to be anywhere where there is a greater than he," put +in Nalaczi. + +"I certainly shall not resign the princely diadem to please his +Excellency!" cried Apafi. + +"That is not necessary!" insinuated Teleki. "He knows how to rule in +Transylvania without an _athname_. When he commands the country must +obey, and what the country commands he contemptuously rejects." + +"I should like to see him do it!" murmured Apafi angrily. + +"But is it not so? We want war, he doesn't, and we must give way. We +want peace, and he is immediately up and waging war against our allies +on his own account. The throne is ours, the realm is his!" + +"Don't say that, Master Michael Teleki!" + +"I appeal to you, Nalaczi! What answer did he give in the Zolyomi +affair?" + +"He said that if the country wished him to surrender the Gyulai property +to Zolyomi, it must give him in exchange the domain of Szamos-Ujvar." + +"What!" cried the Prince, "the property which the Estates gave to me for +my maintenance! My princely domains! The man must be mad!" + +"So he said, adding that he would not surrender the property even if +Zolyomi saddled us with the Turks in consequence." + +"Well, now we've had enough of him. Not a word more about it, +gentlemen." + +"The insult to the Turks your Highness might overlook," persisted +Teleki, "but we really cannot look through our fingers any longer at the +way in which he treats the gentry. The latest victim of his tyranny is +Lady Saint Pauli. The poor widow's ancestral dwelling was an eyesore to +the great lord, because it spoiled the prospect from his palace windows; +so he had the house appraised at his own valuation, and turned the poor +lady out of doors. The magistrate gave her a letter of indemnity, but my +Lord-Marshal tore the letter to pieces, and pulled down the poor widow's +sole possession, her ancestral dwelling-place. The Diet, he said, might +build it up again if it felt so disposed. Such an act, sir, in ordinary +times has been known to cost the doer thereof his head!" + +Apafi was silent, but his bloodshot eyes began to glow savagely. + +"But that is not all," continued Teleki; "outrages on individuals are of +small account when the security of the whole realm is at stake. This +great lord can speak very prettily about the blessings of peace, let us +see now how he labours to uphold it. He takes the sword out of our hands +and closes our mouths, while he himself collects an army and goads the +Turk against us, well knowing that we have no money wherewith to buy the +gifts necessary to counteract his vagaries. Now, three letters have +reached us simultaneously--one from the Pasha of Grosswardein, another +from the Pasha of Buda, and a third from the Sultan himself--demanding +instant satisfaction, or an indemnity of three hundred purses of gold, +for the defeat which the Pasha of Grosswardein has suffered at Banfi's +hands. As, however, we cannot expect Banfi to pay the indemnity, will it +please your Highness to consider from whence such a large sum of money +is to be procured?" + +"From nowhither!" cried Apafi furiously, smashing his glass to pieces on +the table. "I'll show the world that I'm able to exact satisfaction from +whomsoever I will, let him be even as mighty again as Denis Banfi." + +"Then I wish your Highness would tell us how, for we know that Banfi +will not appear to our summons, and we cannot compel him, for he has +shown himself stronger than the whole realm. If we attempted to use +force he would call out the banderia and the garrison troops, and then +it might fare with us as it fared with Ladislaus Csaky--he would arrest +the officers sent to arrest him, and expose us to universal derision." + +"As our first counsellor, it is your province to give us good counsel in +such cases," cried Apafi wrathfully. + +"I only know of one remedy capable of curing the realm thoroughly of +this disease." + +"Then prescribe it. In what does your remedy consist?" + +"In the _jus ligatum_." + +Apafi, despite his semi-besotted state, instinctively shrunk back from +such an expedient, and throwing himself into his arm-chair, looked +blankly at Teleki. + +"Are you not ashamed of yourself," he murmured in broken sentences, as +tipsy people usually do, "to propose a secret conspiracy against a free +nobleman? To privily conspire against him is contrary to the law of the +land." + +"It is not my fault if the expedient is shameful," returned Teleki +calmly and steadfastly; "but it is shameful that the law should not +possess sufficient power to bring a rebel to book, and that one of our +own subjects should be able to openly defy justice and laugh at the +decrees of the Prince. If in such a state of things the _jus ligatum_ is +our only means of defence, the shame falls not upon me but upon the +Prince." + +Apafi rose angrily from his seat and paced to and fro. The lords +remained perfectly silent. + +At last the Prince stopped short in front of Teleki, and, leaning on the +back of his arm-chair, asked him-- + +"And how then do you propose to bring about this league?" + +Nalaczi and Szekely exchanged a smile. It was plain that the idea had +caught the Prince's fancy. Teleki beckoned to Szekely to fetch him +writing materials and a strip of parchment. + +"We will quickly draw up the necessary articles of impeachment; your +Highness will subscribe them, and we'll secretly persuade the great men +of the land to consent to Banfi's arrest and join the league before any +legal steps have been taken." + +At these words many of the gentlemen present began to bite their +moustaches and move uneasily in their chairs. + +Teleki observed the movement, and added emphatically-- + +"I perceive that no one here has the courage to put down his name first +on the list. Nevertheless I have already found a man, who in dignity and +power is every whit Banfi's equal, and when once he has subscribed the +list, the other signatures will follow as a matter of course." + +"And who may that be?" asked Apafi. + +"Paul Beldi!" + +The Prince shook his head. + +"He won't do it. He is much too honourable a man for that." + +Wine-inspired as this sentence was, it completely ruffled Teleki's +equanimity. Turning vehemently upon the Prince he cried-- + +"Then you mean to imply that _we_ are acting dishonourably?" + +"I meant to say that Beldi is never very willing to pick a quarrel with +anybody. He is a peace-abiding man." + +"But I know his sore point, and if you but touch it with the tip of your +finger, he'll answer with his clenched fist, and the lamb will become a +lion. I'll get him to----" + +At that moment the door opened, and, to every one's astonishment, the +Princess entered the room. + +Nevertheless, her appearance at this time was no freak of chance. You +could see by her agitation that she was well aware of what was going on. +The lords were confused, and Apafi, despite his tipsy wrath, became so +frightened when he beheld the pale face of his consort that he whispered +to Teleki-- + +"For heaven's sake put that document out of sight." + +Only Teleki kept his countenance, and instead of hiding the parchment, +ostentatiously spread it out before him. + +"What are you doing?" asked the Princess. She was very pale, and her +bosom heaved tempestuously. + +"We are holding a council," replied Teleki grimly. + +"A council?" repeated Anna, approaching nearer and nearer to the table. + +"Yes; and we venture to ask your Highness by what right you intrude +here, while we are deliberating over the most momentous affairs of +state?" continued Teleki in a hard, dry tone. + +"Deliberating over the most momentous affairs of state, eh?" repeated +the lady, measuring Teleki with a searching look. Then with a loud, +vibrating voice she exclaimed--"What mean these wine-cups then? You are +holding a council of state when the head of the state is drunk, that you +may sow discord and confusion." + +Teleki sprang from his seat and turned towards the Prince-- + +"May it please your Highness to dismiss us. We perceive that a domestic +scene is about to begin." + +"Anna!" cried Apafi, scarlet with shame and wine, "leave the room this +instant. We command it--and for a week to come do not presume to appear +in our presence." + +"Be it so, Apafi. I have nothing more to say to you, for you are not +yourself; but to you, Mr. Chief-Counsellor, to you who are always sober, +I have a word to say. I raised you from the dust; I helped you into the +place where now you stand; you requite me by thrusting yourself between +me and the Prince's heart, for I find you in my way every time I +approach my husband. You have taken the sceptre out of the Prince's +hand, and have substituted for it the headsman's sword; but let me tell +you that if I cannot reach the Prince's heart, I can, at least, step in +the way of the sword, and as often as it descends, you will find me +between the stroke and the victim!--And ye! Nalaczi and Szekely, +ennobled lackeys as you are, who cannot explain to yourselves how you +became great lords, reflect that the wheel of Fortune debases as often +as it exalts, and that as you treat others to-day so may others treat +you to-morrow. And I say to you all, ye noble cavaliers, who seek your +courage in your cups, bethink you and tremble at the thought, that not +wine but innocent blood is foaming in the beakers that you hold in your +hands! Shame, shame upon you all! who give wine to the Prince in order +to ask blood of him. And now your Highness may add a couple of weeks to +my term of banishment." + +With these words, the Princess rapidly left the room. The lords were +dumb, and dared not look at each other. But Teleki got up, closed the +door, dipped his pen in the inkhorn, and said-- + +"And now we will go on where we left off." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +DEATH FOR A KISS. + + +Paul Beldi went straight from Fehervár to Bodola: all the way he was +tortured by the thought which Teleki's words had revived. + +In itself, a kiss is a very harmless thing. But what if another knows of +it or has perceived it? Then indeed it becomes the pole of our +suspicion, round which the mind weaves a whole pandemonium of doubts and +guesses. We begin to think what might have led up to it, and what it may +lead to. And in this case another did know of it. The husband had +reasoned with himself: a kiss of which nobody knows anything makes no +rent in a wife's virtue--and behold! it is in every one's mouth already. +And perhaps they don't stop there. Perhaps while he, fond fool! imagined +his honour in safe keeping, the world with a loud Ha, ha! has long been +dragging it through the mire, and his ear is the very last to catch the +insulting laugh. And that his mortal foe, too, should be at the bottom +of it! + +Night had fallen. The horses were tired out. Beldi had nowhere given +them rest, nowhere changed them for fresh ones. He wanted to get home as +quickly as possible. He wanted to meet face to face the woman who had so +disgraced him, heaven only knew how much! But why be content to see a +woman weep or die, when there was a man on whom vengeance could be +taken? A man who had ever been his foe, from the time when they had been +pages together at Prince Gabriel Bethlen's court, and had now fastened +on the most sensitive spot in his heart and ruthlessly torn it. + +"Turn back," he cried to the coachman, "and go in the direction of +Klausenburg." + +The old servant shook his head; turned into a side-path, and so +completely lost himself in the darkness of the night, that he was forced +to confess to his master that he really did not know where he was. + +Beldi's rage and impatience knew no bounds. Looking about him, he +perceived a small light burning at no great distance, and sulkily bade +his coachman drive in that direction. + +It was into the courtyard of a lonely country-house that they rolled at +last, and Beldi recognized in the master of the house, who appeared at +the barking of the large watch-dogs, old Adam Gyergyai, one of his +dearest friends, who, when he saw Beldi, rushed into his arms, and was +beside himself with joy. + +"God be with you!" said the good old man, covering his guest with +kisses. "I will not ask what piece of good fortune has brought you to +me." + +"To tell the truth, I've lost my way. I was on the road to Klausenburg. +I must get there to-night; but I'll rest my horses here for an hour or +two if you'll let me." + +"What pressing business is this you have on hand?" + +"I must deliver a message," replied Beldi evasively. + +"If that be all, why so much hurry? Write it down, and one of my mounted +servants shall immediately take it to its destination while you remain +here." + +"You are right," said Beldi, after some reflection; "it will be better +to send a letter," and with that he asked for writing materials, sat +down, and wrote to Banfi. + +The mere act of writing generally clears and calms the mind, so that it +was in a fairly moderate tone that Beldi challenged Banfi to meet him at +Szamos-Ujvar on an affair of honour. Beldi then sealed the letter and +gave it to Gyergyai, requesting him to forward it at once. + +"So you are writing to Banfi, my brother?" said the old man, looking at +the address of the letter. "Why, you only parted from him a little time +ago! What is all this between you?" + +"Do you recollect the time, my father," said Beldi, "when you saw Banfi +and me fight together in the lists at the tournament held by Prince +George Rakoczy?" + +"Quite well! On that occasion you had both vanquished every other +competitor, but could do nothing against each other." + +"You then said that you would very much like to see which of the two +would beat the other if we set to it in earnest." + +"Yes; I well remember it." + +"Well, now you _shall_ see!" + +Gyergyai looked Beldi in the face. + +"My brother, I know not what this letter contains, but I can guess your +thoughts from your face. My father used to say that a letter written in +wrath should never be sent off the same day, but should be put under +one's pillow and slept upon. The advice is not bad; follow it, and send +off the letter to-morrow morning, for, to be candid with you, I won't +send it to-night." + +Beldi followed the old man's advice. He put the letter under his pillow, +lay down, went to sleep, and dreamt that he was in the bosom of his +family, saw his wife and children, and was very happy. It was only the +rolling of his carriage into the courtyard next morning which woke him +out of his slumbers. The first thing that occurred to him was his letter +to Banfi. He broke the seal, read the letter through again, and was much +ashamed that he had ever written such a letter. + +"Where was your common-sense, Beldi?" he asked himself, tore the letter +to pieces, and threw it into the fire. "How the world would have laughed +at me!" thought he. "An old fool, to take it into his head all at once +to be jealous of the mother of his children!--and for the sake of a kiss +too given in drunkenness and rejected with indignation. What a weapon I +should have put into Banfi's hands, had I led him to suppose that I was +jealous of my wife on his account." + +"Let us go to Bodola," said he very gently to his coachman, and with +that he took leave of his host. + +"But how about that pressing letter of yours?" asked Gyergyai anxiously. + +"I have already sent it--up the chimney," replied Beldi, smiling, and +set out on his journey with feelings very different from those with +which he had started. + +So you see a man can be drunk without wine! + +While still some distance from Bodola, he could see all the members of +his family looking out for him on the castle terrace, and no sooner did +they perceive his carriage, than they hastened down to greet him. He met +them all in the park, wife and children; they threw themselves on his +neck with cries of joy, and he kissed them all, one after another, over +and over again; but his warmest embraces were for his darling wife, who +smiled up at him with a radiant face, which he could not feast his eyes +upon enough. It seemed to him as if her eyes were brighter, her features +more enchanting, her lips sweeter than ever they had been. + +"What a fool a man is, to be sure," thought Beldi, "who, when his wife +is out of sight, is capable of supposing everything bad of her, and when +she stands before his eyes cannot make too much of her." + +In the abandonment of his joy he did not at first perceive that there +was a strange face in the family circle--a handsome, stately young Turk, +with frank and noble features, not unlike an Hungarian. + +"You do not even notice me, or perhaps you forget me," said the youth, +stepping in front of Beldi. + +Beldi looked at him. The youth's features were familiar to him, and yet +he could not recall his name till his youngest daughter, Aranka, who was +dangling on her father's arm, remarked archly-- + +"What! Not recognize Feriz Beg, papa! Why, I knew him at the first +glance." + +Beldi at once held out his hand and heartily greeted the youth, whose +manly features however wore a grave and serious look. + +"My father sends me to you on an urgent errand," said he, "and had you +not come, I must have gone to seek you, for my message admits of no +delay." + +Beldi was struck by the youth's earnest tone, and on reaching the castle +immediately took him aside into a private room, and there the young Beg +handed him a parchment roll tied round with silken cord, and sealed with +a yellow seal. Beldi broke the seal and read as follows-- + + "The blessing and protection of heaven rest upon you + and your family!--Transylvania is in great danger. The + Sultan is enraged at the war which Denis Banfi wages + with the Pasha of Grosswardein. They say that this + great noble is in league with the Emperor. See to it + that the land chastises Banfi, the power to do so is + still your own. But if the Prince cannot, or will not + punish him, the Sultan has sworn to drive the pair of + them out of the realm, and convert Transylvania into a + Turkish Pachalic. The Pashas of Grosswardein and + Temesvar, the Lord-Marchers, and the Tartar Khan have + been ordered to hold themselves in readiness to invade + Transylvania from all sides at a moment's notice. Put + a bit therefore in the mouth of this great lord, for + death hangs over your heads on the film of a spider's + web. + + "Your friend and brother, + + "KUCSUK PASHA." + +Beldi's face grew dark as he read this letter. So it was all in vain +that he had driven Banfi's name out of his head. This letter conjured up +that odious form once more before his eyes. + +He folded up the parchment and gave the grave youth a brief answer to +take back with him-- + +"Let your father know that we will take the necessary steps to avert the +threatened evil, and thank him heartily for his warning." + +Feriz Beg immediately quitted Bodola Castle. Beldi remained alone in his +room, pacing to and fro in a brown study, and racking his brains to find +a way out of the danger. He could find none. It was not to be expected +that Banfi's pride would yield to the Pasha, especially after a +brilliant victory and in a just cause; and yet the welfare of the land +required the sacrifice of the just cause. + +Brooding thus, he did not notice that somebody was tapping at his door, +who after thrice knocking and receiving no answer, opened it, and as +Beldi suddenly came to himself and looked around him with a start, he +perceived Michael Teleki standing before him. So amazed was Beldi by +this apparition, that for the moment the power of speech forsook him. + +"You appear surprised," said Teleki, observing his amazement. "You are +astonished that I should travel such a long way to see you, after +parting from you only twenty-four hours ago. But great events have taken +place in the meantime. Transylvania is threatened by a danger which must +be averted as quickly as possible." + +"I know it," replied Beldi, and putting his hand over the signature, he +let Teleki read Kucsuk's letter. + +"Great heaven!" exclaimed the minister. "You know more than I did. But +what I want to say on this matter is a secret which the very walls +around us may not hear." + +"I understand," replied Beldi, and immediately commanded his heydukes +to admit no one into the vestibules; placed guards in front of the +windows, and drew the curtains down to the ground. There now only +remained a little tapestried door, at the back of the room, which led +through a narrow corridor to his wife's bed-chamber, an arrangement very +common, at that time, in the mansions of Hungarian magnates. By way of +additional precaution Beldi closed this door also. + +"Does your Excellency feel secure enough now?" asked Beldi. + +"One thing more. Give me your word of honour that if what I am about to +disclose does not meet with your approbation, you will at least keep it +secret." + +"I promise," returned Beldi, impatiently awaiting the _dénouement_ of +all this mystery. + +Teleki thereupon drew forth a long strip of parchment, unfolded it, and +held it before Beldi's eyes, without however letting it out of his +hands. + +It was the league against Banfi, signed and sealed by the Prince. + +The more Beldi read of this document, the blacker grew his looks, till +at last, turning his face away, he pushed the document aside with an +expression of deep disgust. + +"Sir," said he, "'tis a dirty piece of work!" + +Teleki was prepared for some such answer, and summoned to his aid all +the sophistry of which he was so perfect a master. + +"Beldi!" cried he, "we must, for once, put aside all narrow-minded +sentiment. Here it is a question of the end and not of the means. The +means may seem bad, but we really have no other. Whenever a subject +becomes so powerful in a state that the arm of the law is no longer able +to bring him to justice, then I say he has only himself to blame if the +state is compelled to conspire against him. He whom the axe of the +executioner cannot reach, must fall beneath the dagger of the bravo. +Denis Banfi, by despising the Prince's commands and waging war on his +own account, has placed himself outside the law. In such a case, where +the ordinary tribunals become inoperative, we must of course have resort +to secret tribunals. If any one injures me, and the law can give me no +remedy, I make use of my own weapons, and shoot him down wherever I meet +him. If the country is injured by any one whom it cannot punish, it must +fall back upon the _jus ligatum_, and lay hands upon him whenever and +wherever it can. The commonweal requires, the common danger compels +such a step." + +"We are in the hands of God!" replied Beldi. "If 'tis His will to +destroy the fatherland, we can only bow the head and die in defence of +our freedom with a good conscience. But never ought we to lift our hands +against the liberties we have inherited from our forefathers. Rather let +us endure the wrongs which spring from those liberties, than lay the axe +to the root of them ourselves! Rather let war and strife burst over the +land, than conspire against the laws! That may cost the nation its +blood; but this will destroy its very soul. I disapprove of this league, +and, sir, I mean to oppose it!" + +At these words Michael Teleki rose from his seat, sank down upon his +knees before Beldi, raised his hands to heaven, and cried-- + +"I swear by the living God, that as I hope for my own and my family's +protection and happiness here and for salvation hereafter, that what I +now do, I do as your loyal friend, well knowing that all Banfi's efforts +aim at the ruin of your house, and I solemnly adjure you, as you love +your life and the lives of your wife and children, to avert the +impending danger by signing the league. I have now done all in my power +to save you and my country, and that too at my own risk and peril. I +have no other object. Before God I lie not!" + +Beldi turned with calm dignity towards the minister, and said, in a tone +of immovable conviction-- + +"_Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!_" + + * * * * * + +A few moments after Teleki's arrival at Bodola, a mounted heyduke had +galloped into the courtyard; it was Andrew, Dame Apafi's faithful old +servant, who handed to Dame Beldi a letter from the Princess, adding +that the message was doubly urgent, as he already perceived in the +courtyard Teleki's coachman, whom he ought to have forestalled. + +Dame Beldi hastily opened the letter and read as follows-- + + "DEAR SISTER-- + + "Michael Teleki has set out for Bodola to see your + husband. His aim is to secretly ruin Banfi by the hand + of Beldi. The magnates have conspired together to + break the law. Fortunately, every one of them has a + wife, and in the hearts of our women the better + feelings of human nature are not yet extinguished. I + have charged each one of them to preserve their + husbands from Teleki's wiles; but 'tis to you that I + chiefly look for help. Beldi is the most eminent of + them all. If he joins the league, the rest will follow + his example; but he is also the most honourable of men + and the best of husbands. I count upon your firmness. + Move heaven and earth! + + "Your loving sister, + + "ANNA BORNEMISSA." + +On reading this letter, Dame Beldi almost swooned. + +Teleki had already been closeted with her husband for more than +half-an-hour, and the servants had brought word that every one had been +ordered away, even from the passages leading to the room. In an instant +she divined everything. Terror seized her. Perhaps it was already too +late! But what could she do? Suddenly, the secret corridor occurred to +her, which led from her bedroom to her husband's. Urged by fear, she +rapidly traversed the corridor, reached the tapestried door, stood still +before it with a beating heart, and listened. She could only hear +Teleki, and he was speaking in an unusually excited voice, which rose +almost to a scream. She looked through the keyhole, and beheld the +minister on his knees before her husband with uplifted hands, +endeavouring to move him by solemn oaths. + +Such a sight made Dame Beldi perfectly frantic. What must it be that +could make a man so proud and so exalted kneel down before Beldi? What +is he swearing so vehemently? Suddenly Banfi's name struck on her ear; +she turned pale with horror, and at the same instant she heard Beldi say +the words--"_Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!_" Ignorant as she was of the +Latin language, she at once jumped to the conclusion that her husband +had yielded, and in her desperation pressed hard upon the door-latch, +and finding it immovable, shook the door furiously, exclaiming wildly at +the same time-- + +"My husband! My beloved lord! Lord of my soul! Give no heed to Teleki's +words, for he would ruin you." + +Both the men started at this passionate cry, and Beldi rose from his +seat, went to the door, opened it, and cried angrily to his wife-- + +"Go to your work, woman! You have no business here." + +Then Dame Beldi lost her presence of mind altogether. Fear did not allow +her to reflect. The idea that her husband was consenting to Teleki's +schemes rendered her incapable of grasping the situation; and she forgot +that the most complaisant of husbands, rather than see his uxoriousness +paraded before the world, will do violence to his better nature. So Dame +Beldi rushed wildly into the room, sank down at her husband's feet, +convulsively clasped his knees, and cried in a voice of passionate +remonstrance-- + +"Sweet lord of my heart! I adjure you not to believe in that man. Don't +be led away. He would bring down innocent blood upon your head. You are +too just and merciful to become a headsman." + +"Get up, woman! You are mad!" + +"Oh! I know what I'm saying. I saw him kneel to you. He who believes in +God, kneels not to man. He would ruin Denis Banfi through you. Woe +betide us if you help him! For if Banfi be the first, you will assuredly +be the second." + +When Teleki saw his secret design thus exposed, he grew wroth. + +"If my wife were to treat me so," cried he passionately, "I would tear +her eyes out. If any one came to me with a saving word of friendship on +his tongue, I would thank him for it, and not allow my wife to lead me +by the nose." + +Beldi turned furiously upon his wife and ordered her out. + +"I'll remain here even if you kill me, for 'tis a matter of life or +death. When the peace of my family is at stake, I think 'tis time for me +to speak. I beg, I implore you to hear me. I'll not allow you to +sacrifice Banfi." + +Beldi was already so ashamed of this onslaught on his marital authority +that he was nearly beside himself; but when his wife began to plead for +Banfi, he started back as if an adder had bitten him. + +This did not escape Teleki, and with malicious innuendo he exclaimed-- + +"It seems to me that wives forget _some things_ much sooner than their +husbands." + +Quick as lightning the dart pierced through Beldi's soul. The +recollection of that kiss came back to him. Pale and speechless, he +seized his wife's arm; her loud sobs only inflamed his jealousy, and +dragging her to the tapestried door, he pushed her out and closed it +behind her. There she remained, lying on the threshold, loudly cursing +the Prince's minister, and hammering at the closed door with her fists. + +Beldi, pale as death, sat down at the table, gnashed his teeth, and +whispered huskily-- + +"Where's the document?" + +Teleki spread out the parchment roll before him on the table. + +Beldi took up his pen without a word, and wrote his name in a bold hand +beneath that of Michael Apafi. + +A triumphant smile played around Teleki's lips. + +No sooner was the deed done than something in Beldi's breast began to +accuse him. Resting his hand on the document, he turned with a very +grave face towards Teleki. + +"I expressly stipulate," he murmured, in a hollow voice, "that if Banfi +be arrested, right and justice shall be done to him, according to the +law of the land." + +"Quite so! Of course!" returned the Prince's counsellor, making a snatch +at the document. + +Still Beldi would not let it go. + +"Sir," said he, "promise me that you will not secretly assassinate +Banfi; but that when once he is arrested you will proceed against him +before the proper Court of Justice, and in the usual, legitimate way. If +you don't guarantee me that, I'll tear this parchment to pieces and +throw it into the fire, together with my own and the Prince's +signatures." + +"I promise it to you on my word of honour," replied the minister, +inwardly smiling at the man who was so weak so long as he stood upright, +and made such a brave show of firmness when he had already fallen. + +That same day Teleki hastened with the subscribed league to Ladislaus +Csaky, and from him to Haller, and from him to the Bethlens. As soon as +they saw Beldi's name, they signed the document without more ado, for +all of them hated Banfi. + +In every case the wives intervened. Terrible scenes took place. Nowhere +did Teleki escape scot-free. But the league was successfully carried +through, and that was, after all, the main thing. + +And thus it was that Transylvania dug her own grave. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CONSORT AND CONCUBINE. + + +Ever since that painful scene at Bonczhida, Lady Banfi had not met her +husband. Fate so willed it that Banfi was constantly away from home; +scarcely had he come back from the Diet of Fehervár when he was called +away to Somlyo, where his troops stood face to face with the Turks. +During the few hours however that he remained at home, his wife had +locked herself up from him; not even the domestics caught a glimpse of +her face. She did not quit her chamber, and received no one. + +One day both the spouses were invited to Roppad by a distant kinsman, +one Gabriel Vitez, who knew nothing of their estrangement, to act as +sponsors to his new-born son. To decline the invitation was impossible, +and thus it came about that on the day in question, Lady Banfi coming +from Bonczhida and her husband from Somlyo met together, to their mutual +confusion, at the festive mansion of the Vitezes. + +At the first meeting they instinctively shrank back from each other. +They had both indeed longed for such a meeting, but pride had kept them +apart, and thus while their affection rejoiced at, their pride revolted +against this chance encounter. Of course they let nothing of all this +appear openly. In the presence of their friends they had so to conduct +themselves that nobody might suspect that this meeting was anything but +an everyday occurrence. + +At the end of the banquet, which lasted far into the night, Master +Gabriel Vitez took care that all his guests should be lodged with the +utmost convenience. Husbands and wives and all the young girls had +separate quarters, and the young men were accommodated in the hunting +saloon. For Banfi and his spouse the garden pavilion had been reserved, +which, being at some distance from the noisy courtyard, promised to be +the quietest resting-place of all. The host, with the most distinguished +courtesy, accompanied them thither himself. + +It was now a long time since they had slept together under the same +roof. + +Before so many acquaintances they could not declare their estrangement, +and had been compelled to accept the nice quarters provided for them by +their amiable host, who insisted, despite their protests, in showing +them the way; jested pleasantly with them for a time, and only left them +to themselves after wishing them good-night some scores of times. + +The pavilion consisted of two small adjoining rooms, such cosy little +cribs, with quite an air of home about them. In one of them a merry fire +was crackling and flickering on the hearth. In the corner a tall solemn +clock was softly ticking. The brocade curtains of the large tester-bed +were half drawn back, revealing behind them a comfortable, snow-white, +downy expanse, on which lay, side by side, _two_ little pillows adorned +with red ribbons. + +In the other room, which was half lighted by the reflection of the fire, +a couch was visible provided with a bear-skin covering and a single +stag-skin bolster. In all probability no one had ever thought that it +would be occupied. + +Banfi looked sadly at his wife. Now that he was no longer free to +approach her, he saw what a heaven he had possessed in that noble and +lovely being. She stood before him with downcast eyes, so sorrowful and +yet so mild. + +In her heart, too, many traitorous thoughts pleaded for her husband; +wounded pride, that unbending judge, was already beginning to waver. In +a noble breast it is not hate but grief that takes the place of love. + +Banfi drew nearer to his wife, seized her hand, and pressed it in his +own. He felt that her hand trembled, but he also felt that it did not +return his pressure. + +He went still further. He tenderly pressed her to him, and kissed her +forehead, cheeks, and lips. She suffered his caresses but did not return +them. But if only she had looked up into her husband's eyes, she would +have seen them glistening with two tears as sincere as ever repentant +sinner shed. + +Banfi, with a deep sigh, sat down in an armchair, still holding +Margaret's hand in his own; it needed but a single tender word from his +wife, and he would have flung himself at her feet and wept like a +remorseful child. Instead of that, Dame Banfi, with self-denying +affectation, said to her husband-- + +"Do you wish to remain in this room, and shall I go into the other?" + +The icy tone of these words cut Banfi to the heart. His broad breast +heaved a deep sigh, his eyes looked sorrowfully at Margaret's joyless +face--to him a closed paradise. He rose gravely from his seat, pressed +his wife's hand to his lips, whispered her a scarcely audible +good-night, and tottered into the adjoining room, closing the door +behind him. + +Dame Banfi set about disrobing, but on casting a glance at the lonely +couch, a painful feeling overcame her. She threw herself sobbing on the +pillows, and then, finding no rest for her soul there, she stood up +again, drew a chair in front of the fire, sat down, and burying her face +in her hands indulged in brooding, melancholy, dreamy thoughts. + +And can there be any greater grief than when the heart fights against +its own conviction; when a woman can no longer conceal from herself that +the ideal of her love, him whom, after God, she loves the most, is after +all only a common, ordinary mortal?--that he whom she has loved so nobly +deserves nothing but her contempt? And yet she cannot but love him! She +feels she ought to hate him, yet she cannot bear the thought of being +without him. She would fain die for him, and the opportunity of dying +will not come. + +A single unlocked door separates her from him. They are only a few steps +apart. How small the distance, and yet how great! She can hear him +sighing. He too cannot sleep while he is so near to her whom he has so +deeply wounded. What bliss it would be to traverse those few steps, to +nestle side by side, to gratify each other's longings! But +reconciliation is impossible; her heart yearns after it and recoils from +it, loves and loathes at the same moment. + +Oh! why can we not forget the Past? Why is it impossible to prevent +Grief from grieving? + +The lady fell a-thinking, a-dreaming. + +It seemed to her as if she were talking to her husband in a vision-- + +"You said yourself that we ought to part while we still loved each +other, while our hearts would bleed at the rupture. Then why don't you +do it? Why do you sigh when you look at me? Why do you kiss me? Those +sighs, those kisses are torture to me; they wound my heart. Let us +part! It was your own wish." + +The fire had burnt very low in the grate; over the ruddy embers a pale, +ever-dwindling flame was feebly flickering to and fro, like the last +thought of an extinguished passion. All around the room was growing +darker and darker; the light of the expiring embers barely lit up the +form of the sorrowing lady who sat there, with her head buried in her +hands, like a marble statue mourning over a tomb. + +Suddenly, amid the silence of the night and of her own thoughts, it +seemed to her as if whispering voices and stealthy footsteps were +approaching the doors of the pavilion. + +Lady Banfi really did hear these sounds; but she was like one but +half-awakened from his first sleep, who hears but heeds not, who knows +what is going on about him without regarding it. + +The whispering was now audible close beneath the windows, and now and +then it seemed to her as if the smothered clash of arms was mingling +with it. In her dreamy state the lady fancied she had got up and bolted +the door; but this was a delusion, the door remained ajar. + +Then some one pressed the latch, and the creaking sound made Lady Banfi +dream that her husband had come to her, and was speaking to her in a +tearful, supplicating voice. She felt the terrors of nightmare strong +upon her as she came within the magnetic influence of that shape. "Let +us part, Banfi!" she would have said, but the words died away on her +lips. Then the dream-shape whispered to her--"I am not Banfi, but the +headsman!" and seized her hand. + +At this cold touch Lady Banfi uttered a shriek and started up. + +Two men stood before her with drawn swords. The lady looked into their +faces with a shudder. Both were well known to her. One was Caspar +Kornis, chief captain of the Maros district, the other John Daczo, chief +captain of Csik, who now stood before her with menacing looks, and the +points of their naked swords at her breast. + +"Not a sound, my lady!" said Daczo grimly. "Where's Banfi?" + +The lady, thus scared out of her first sleep, was scarcely able to +distinguish the objects around her: terror made her dumb. + +Suddenly she observed through the open door that the passage was filled +with armed men, whereupon her presence of mind seemed instantly and +completely to return. She grasped at once the tremendous significance of +the moment, and when Daczo, gnashing his teeth, again asked her where +Banfi was, she bounded from her chair, ran to the door which separated +her husband's chamber from her own, turned the key quickly round, and +screamed with all her might-- + +"Banfi! Save yourself! They seek your life!" + +Daczo ran forward to stop her mouth and snatch the key from her; but +with singular presence of mind Lady Banfi had, in the meantime, thrown +the key into the heart of the red-hot embers, and cried again-- + +"Fly, Banfi! Your enemies are here!" + +Daczo tried to pick the key out of the fire, and burnt his fingers very +badly in the attempt, whereupon, still more furious, he rushed upon the +lady sword in hand to cut her down, but Kornis held him back. + +"Softly, sir! We have no orders to kill the woman, nor would it be +worthy of us; let us try rather to burst open the door as quickly as +possible," and with that they both pressed their shoulders against the +door, Daczo cursing and swearing, and calling upon all the devils in +hell to help him, while Lady Banfi on her knees prayed God to allow her +husband to escape. + + * * * * * + +Banfi had gone to sleep at the same time as his wife. He too had had a +tormenting dream. He fancied he was in prison, and the moment he heard +Margaret's shriek, he sprang in terror from his couch, tore open the +window of the pavilion, and without thinking what he was doing, leaped +into the garden at a single bound. He looked hurriedly about him. The +house was surrounded by armed Szeklers, and the rear of the garden was +bounded by a broad ditch filled with greenish rain-water. Amongst the +masses of infantry stood here and there a group of grooms, holding by +the bridles the chargers from which their masters had just dismounted. + +Banfi had very little time for reflection, nor did he need much. Under +cover of the darkness, he rushed swiftly upon the nearest groom, gave +him a buffet which brought the blood in streams from his nose and mouth, +sprang upon one of the vacant horses, and struck the spurs into its +flanks. + +The cry of the groom, who had fallen beneath the horse but still held on +fast by the bridle, brought up to the spot a crowd of yelling Szeklers. +It immediately occurred to Banfi to put his hands into his +saddle-pouches, where pistols were sure to be found, and the moment he +felt the handles, he as quick as light sent two shots among the crowd +which was pressing upon him from all sides, and taking advantage of the +consequent hubbub and confusion, spurred his horse fiercely, till it +reared and plunged and flew away with him through the garden. The groom +still stuck to it like a leech, and allowed himself to be dragged along +the ground, till at last his head came into collision with the stump of +a tree and he fell back unconscious. Banfi thereupon galloped towards +the ditch, and leaped it at a single bold bound; his pursuers, not +daring to follow him that way, were obliged to make a long détour to +reach the gates, thus giving Banfi a start of several hundred paces. His +steed too, scared by the noise of the pursuit, had become half frantic, +and Banfi gave him his head, and away they went over stock and stone, up +hill and down dale, without aim or purpose. + + * * * * * + +"Oh, accursed woman!" roared Daczo, threatening Lady Banfi with his +fists, when he learnt that Banfi had made his escape. "'Tis all through +you that Banfi has slipped through our fingers." + +"Oh, Almighty God! I thank Thee!" stammered Margaret, with hands +upraised to heaven. + +The Szeklers, enraged at having let the husband escape, swung their +weapons and rushed upon the wife to murder her. + +"Let her die! Her blood be upon her own head!" they roared, with bestial +rage. + +"Kill me! Death will be welcome to me!" cried Margaret, kneeling down +before them. "To die for him was my only wish. God be with me!" + +"Be off with you!" cried Kornis, suddenly intervening, beating down the +weapons of the Szeklers with his sword, and covering the kneeling lady +with his body. "Shame on you! Would you kill a woman? Ye are worse than +the Pagan Tartars. If you've let Banfi escape, run after him." + +"We'll kill her! We'll kill her!" bellowed the Szeklers, and again they +attempted to tear Kornis away from the lady. + +"Eh! you damned beasts! Who commands here, I should like to know? Am I +not your captain?" + +"No!" bluntly replied a stiff-necked, bull-headed Szekler, twitching +his bulky shoulders to and fro. "Our captain is Nicholas Bethlen, and he +is not here." + +"Then go and find him. But let me tell you that whoever does not +instantly quit this room shall be beaten into a pulp." + +Still the Szeklers persisted in remaining, and there is no knowing what +they might not have done, had not one of the hindermost suddenly +exclaimed-- + +"Let us go to Bonczhida!" + +Thereupon all the others fell a-shouting--"To Bonczhida! to Bonczhida!" +and they withdrew, cursing horribly, and in the most chaotic confusion. + +But Captain Kornis quietly put Lady Banfi into a carriage, and sent her +to Bethlen Castle, which then belonged to Paul Beldi, hoping that Banfi +would behave with a little more discretion when he heard that his wife +was a prisoner. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, the Szekler rabble sent out against Banfi by order of the +Prince had arrived at Bonczhida, and on showing the castellan the +Prince's mandate, the gates were opened to them without the slightest +contradiction. Daczo only left a portion of his band there, whom he +strictly charged to arrest Banfi the moment he appeared, then with the +rest he went on to Örmenyes, where Banfi had another castle, to seek him +there. + +The Szeklers left behind at Bonczhida no sooner perceived themselves +captainless, than they proceeded to make themselves perfectly at home in +the occupied castle. At first indeed they only jostled each other in the +hall and vestibules, but presently they began to insist that the private +apartments should also be thrown open to them. + +The castellan hesitated. He declared that there was no necessity for +such a step, and begged the noble gentlemen to keep within their legal +rights, whereupon the before-mentioned broad-shouldered, bull-headed +rogue stepped forth, twirled his blonde moustache, which consisted of +about nine hairs, and thrusting his pock-marked face close under the +castellan's nose, exclaimed-- + +"What do you mean by that? You are a conspirator! You have robber-bands +concealed in those rooms. Open the doors instantly, or we'll burn the +house down!" + +The castellan was very wroth, but he was also very frightened, so he +threw open the rooms in order that the Szeklers might see with their +own eyes that nobody was concealed there. + +The Szeklers thereupon, with astonishing conscientiousness, thoroughly +explored every hole and corner, even looking into places where no one +would ever have thought of hiding anything. They looked under and inside +all the beds. They pulled out all the cupboards. They took the grates +out bodily to see what was behind them. They pitched all the books out +of the book-cases, and, after ransacking every room, came at last to +Lady Banfi's bed-chamber. + +"Look! look! There sits Banfi!" cried the bull-headed ringleader, +recoiling at first before a lifelike portrait of the Baron, but +immediately afterwards rushing forward and gouging out one of its eyes +with his spear. "And that pretty lady yonder is his wife, I suppose?" +asked he, pointing to another portrait by the side of the first. "Ai, +ai, ai! We were like to have killed her a little while ago, not knowing +that she was so pretty. Let us be off, comrades! This room we must leave +untouched, for it belongs to that pretty lady," and with that he drove +his comrades out, and wrote with a piece of charcoal on the white +enamelled door, in letters each an ell long--"THIS IS THE PRETTY LADY'S +CHAMBER." + +"Why do you do that?" asked the castellan in some surprise. + +"To prevent any fuddled blockhead from thrusting his nose in there, in +case we all get drunk." + +"But where will you all get the drink from, pray?" asked the castellan, +more and more amazed. + +"Nay, gossip! we must certainly have a peep at the cellars also, to see +if anybody is lurking there." + +"There you cannot go, and so I tell you once for all, unless you have +brought petards with you under your coats of mail." + +"What! Just say that again! I should like to hear it once more. Do you +know, gossip, to whom you are speaking? My name is Firi Firtos, and if +you speak a single word more, I'll chuck you over the house, so that you +will fall to the ground in half-a-dozen pieces." + +"Why bandy words with him?" cried a voice from the crowd. "Let us pitch +the fellow out of the window." + +The Szeklers did not wait to be told twice, but instantly raised the +castellan into the air and threw him, despite his frantic struggles, out +of the window. Luckily he fell on his feet, and took to his heels, to +the great indignation of Firi Firtos, who seized all the cactus and +hortensia plants that stood in the windows, and hurled them after him, +pots and all, after which the whole mob rushed bellowing down to the +cellars. Finding it impossible to open the large iron doors, they +dragged forward huge casks, filled them with big stones, and sent them +flying down the cellar steps, till at last the iron doors fell in with a +tremendous crash. + +The vast cellar was fitted with huge butts and barrels of every size and +shape, and the Szeklers forthwith fell upon them and knocked the tops +off with their morning-stars to see what was inside them. The costly +wine poured out into the cellar. The Szeklers drank as only Szeklers can +drink, and what they could not drink was simply wasted. + +When they had all drunk as much as they could hold, the mob stormed +up-stairs again, and while another batch took their place below, they +forced their way into the state-rooms, rolled about on the costly divans +and oriental carpets, hustled one another against the furniture and +mirrors, and indulged in many other like pleasantries. Firi Firtos +climbed on to a round ebony table in order to paint a moustache on the +portrait of a mediæval lady with a piece of charcoal, but some one else +jerked the table from under him, and the merry wag fell crashing down +into a glass chest containing the family treasures. Mad with rage, he +immediately began pitching about everything which came to hand: gorgeous +gold pocals, silver plates, enamelled snuff-boxes, flew one after +another at the heads of the Szeklers, who, entering into the joke, flung +them all back at him with great spirit. + +This was the signal for a general devastation. The mania for destruction +is contagious. It needs but one to begin it, and the mob, as if +rejoicing at the sight, is never so ready as when there is something to +be pulled, torn, or smashed to bits. In an instant every piece of +furniture was broken up and every bit of tapestry torn down. Splendid +costumes, costly, fur-trimmed pelisses, gala-mantles--everything was +torn to pieces. They ripped open the feather-beds, scattered the +eider-down out of the windows, and bellowed to those who stood +below--"It is snowing! it is snowing!" whereupon all the others came +rushing up to tear and pull to pieces what still remained whole. + +They pulled up the fragrant jasmines by the roots to make posies of +them, and cut up into neckties the delicate tapestries which Lady Banfi +had worked with her own hands. Stealing gave the Szeklers no pleasure, +it was destruction for its own sake that they found so delightful. Thus +they threw to the ground a rare and costly clock which needed winding +only once a year, broke it up, distributed the wheels and chains as +buckles for their shoes, and melted the silver keys into bullets, which +they fired off into the air. + +Here too it was edifying to see how Firi Firtos tried to get at the +bottom of everything. He took down an antique urn and stuck it on his +head upside down by way of a helmet. A clock chain he wound round his +loins as a girdle, and he danced about hugging in his arms a huge statue +of Gutenberg, declaring that it would make an excellent scarecrow for +the Somlyo vineyards. + +The fragments of the broken furniture they piled up on the hearth, and +made a great fire of the priceless ebony, mahogany, and palisander +woods. The conflagration of a whole village would not have been half so +costly. + +Over this fire they hung, on a silver chain, a Corinthian amphora of +exquisite workmanship by way of a kettle, filled it with finely-chopped +mutton, and sent Firi Firtos out for beans, salt, and onions. He brought +them instead green coffee beans, white powdered sugar, and the most +costly tulip, amaryllis, and hyacinth bulbs, all of which they threw +pell-mell into the kettle, with the natural consequence that the mess, +when finished, was very nearly the death of them all, and the end of it +was that they pitched Firi Firtos neck and crop into the courtyard. + +The Szekler, mad with rage and unable to obtain any other satisfaction, +rushed down to the cellars to drink himself dead drunk, but there all +the hogsheads had already been staved in, and he waded in wine up to his +middle. Looking about him, he perceived a door leading to a second +cellar, broke it open with his axe, and was overjoyed to see by the +light of the torch he held in his hand, a whole row of fresh casks. He +immediately rushed upon the first of them, and knocking the top in, held +the torch over it to see what was flowing out. It was _gunpowder_! +Luckily for him he was drunk, otherwise he would certainly have sent the +castle and everything it contained the shortest way to heaven. "That's +not good to drink!" thought he, and broke open the second cask; in that +too there was powder, and in the third also, and he swore a terrible +oath that if the fourth held the same thing he would hurl the torch into +it holus bolus. In the fourth cask, however, there was honey, and shake +it as much as he would, he could get nothing else out of it. At last he +came upon a six-gallon cask, and, smelling the bung, inhaled a strong +odour of spirits, which made him madder than ever, and seizing it by the +spigot he raised it bodily from the ground and swallowed long draughts +of the strong corn brandy, till over he fell backwards, cask and all. +There he wallowed about in the streaming honey; struggled laboriously to +his feet again, stumbled a few steps further on, fell down into the +gunpowder; rolled backwards and forwards in it for some time, and +finally, all candied as he was, scrambled into the courtyard, and there +the honey-and-powder-bedaubed form fell prone into the heaps of +eider-down which covered the ground, and sprawled helplessly about till +he was covered with plumage from the crown of his head to the soles of +his jack-boots, and in this plight the grotesquely hideous creature +crawled up stairs on all fours in amongst his carousing companions. The +man no longer resembled any known beast of the Old or New Worlds. He was +black and white all over: white where he was not black, and black where +he was not white. Perhaps he had some distant resemblance to a polar +bear with a hide of feathers instead of hair, but his roaring was like +the roaring of a hippopotamus. It is therefore not surprising that when +the Szeklers beheld this strange monster crawling towards them on all +fours and bellowing loudly, they should take to their heels in terror, +scatter to all points of the compass, and leave the flesh-filled kettle +in the lurch. Most of them took the shortest but most dangerous way out +of the window, exclaiming--"That is Banfi's devil! Here comes Banfi's +devil!" + +The Szekler, perceiving the success of his involuntary masquerade, sent +after the fugitives a still more ghastly howl, took the amphora down +from the chain, sat down with it in the middle of the parquetted floor, +thrust both hands into it at once like a demon of the woods, and gobbled +and roared alternately. + +And these savage scenes took place in the very same chamber where, only +a few days before, the delicate form of Dame Banfi had appeared among +her jasmines and mimosas like a melancholy shade from fairyland which +only listens with its soul and speaks with its eyes. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Denis Banfi, after breaking through the ambush laid for him at +Koppad, began, as the noise of the pursuit gradually died away, to look +about him in the star-bright night, and picked his way so carefully +through woods and over stubble-fields that, at dawn of day, he saw +before him the towers of Klausenburg. + +Once rid of the terrors of pursuit, anger and revenge began to rage +within him. He thought at first that this night attack was simply an +audacious conspiracy of his private enemies concocted without the +knowledge of the Prince, on the principle that an accomplished act is +more easily justifiable than an act that has still to be accomplished. +But the attempt had not succeeded, and the escaped lion had both the +will and the power to turn upon his pursuers and teach them respect for +the laws. + +In the plain before the town Banfi's troops were just going through +their morning exercises when their leader came galloping up to them, +pale, agitated, unarmed, and without either hat or mantle. His captains +hastened towards him, aghast and curious. + +"I've just escaped from a murderous assault," said Banfi, with a hoarse +voice and a heaving breast; "my enemies have treacherously fallen upon +me. I have escaped them, but my wife is in their hands. I recognized the +voices of Daczo and Kornis among my pursuers." + +"Yes, and Daczo's name is embroidered on this saddle-cloth," said +Michael Angel. + +Banfi appeared much disturbed. His face was dark and troubled, as if +neither the future nor the past was quite clear to him. + +"I don't understand it at all," said he to his captains. "If the attack +was by the Prince's command, I ought to have been served beforehand with +a writ, a citation, or, at the very least, a notice of judgment. If +however it be only an act of private vengeance, my band is more than +sufficient to reach these honest Szeklers. In any case, you will remain +under arms before the town while I go up to my castle. In a few hours I +shall know whither we have to turn." + +Thereupon Banfi rode into the town, accompanied by Michael Angel. As he +turned the corner of his palace, he was obliged to pass over the ground +where the house of Dame Saint Pauli had formerly stood. All that +remained of it now was a large stone, and Banfi, chancing to look in +that direction, saw the mistress of the vanished house sitting on that +single stone, and evidently awaiting him. He turned impatiently away, +but she arose, curtseyed low, and cried derisively-- + +"Good-morning, your Excellency! Good-morning!" + +Banfi haughtily rode on without a word. At the palace gate the castellan +of Bonczhida awaited him, who, after escaping from the violence of the +Szeklers, had discreetly kept his evil tidings secret, and now told his +lord, in a hurried whisper, that his castle had been turned upside down, +and the Szeklers were making merry there to their hearts' content. + +Banfi answered not a syllable, but he sent for his armour and his +charger, and calmly got ready to depart. + +"Your lordship would do well to hasten," said the castellan; "by this +time the Szeklers must have penetrated into the state apartments." + +"It is well," replied Banfi, walking up and down the room with folded +arms. + +"No, my lord; it is not well. They have smashed to pieces everything in +the rooms, torn the carpets to shreds, divided among them the +curiosities, flooded the cellars with wine, and even made away with the +horses." + +"It does not matter," replied the magnate hoarsely. What cared he at +that moment for his costliest treasures, his wine, his horses? + +"They have done still worse, my lord. They forced their way into her +ladyship's bedroom, set up the bust of her ladyship as a target, and +mutilated it horribly amidst peals of laughter." + +"What! My wife's bust?" cried Banfi, putting his hand to his sword. "My +wife's bust did you say?" repeated he with sparkling eyes. "Ha!" he +roared, and tearing his sword from its sheath, raised his face to heaven +with an expression which no one had ever seen there before. It was like +the face of a furious tiger chained down by force, with bloodshot eyes, +thick starting veins in the forehead, and lips thirsting after blood. +"God be gracious and merciful to them!" cried he, with a terrible voice, +threw himself upon his horse, and hastened to his host. + +"My friends!" cried he, ere yet he had had time to marshal their ranks. +"A marauding swarm of hornets has fallen upon my castle and plundered +it. They have smashed everything in my rooms, emptied my stables, stolen +or destroyed my family treasures. All that troubles me little. Let the +half-starved wretches eat and drink their fill! Let them keep what they +have got! Let them rob, burn, and ravage if they will, poor devils! I am +still the master of many mansions, and can pay off this beggarly +Szekler crew out of one pocket. But they have defaced the image of my +wife!--my wife I say! Therefore will I take vengeance upon them, a +fearful vengeance. Follow me! The trees of the orchards of Bonczhida +have not borne fruit for a long time. We will now hang fruit upon them +ourselves!" + +The enthusiastic shouts of the squadrons proved that the host was ready +to follow Banfi whithersoever he might choose to lead it. The captains +marshalled their divisions, and the second flourish of trumpets had +already sounded, when a company of twelve horsemen suddenly appeared in +front of Banfi's host. In the foremost of this company they recognized +the Prince's herald, a broad-shouldered man of gigantic stature, who +boldly rode up to Banfi and his staff, and raising his escutcheoned +bâton, cried--"Halt!" + +"Use your eyes! We _are_ halting!" retorted Michael Angel. + +"In the name of his Highness, the Prince, I cite you, Denis Banfi, to +appear within three days before the Privy Council at Karoly-Fehervár, +there to defend yourself as best you may against the charges brought +against you. Till then your consort remains in our hands as a hostage +for your good behaviour." + +"We _are_ coming," retorted Michael Angel; "don't you see that we are +already about to start? We only wanted to know whither, and now we know +it." + +"Silence, captain!" cried Banfi; "one must not jest with the Prince's +ambassador." + +The herald next turned to the captains. + +"This citation does not concern you. I have a very different message to +deliver to you in the Prince's name." + +"You had better keep your message to yourself, or I'll speak a word in +your ears which will make them tingle," jeered one of the captains, +aiming at the herald with his pistol. + +"Down with your weapons," exclaimed Banfi; "let him proclaim the +Prince's mandate. Give him room that he may speak freely." + +The herald rose in his stirrups, and looking along the ranks cried +aloud-- + +"The Prince forbids you from henceforth to obey Banfi! Whoever takes up +weapons for him is a traitor!" + +"You're a traitor yourself," roared Michael Angel, and the next moment +the crowd fell furiously upon the herald, with loud cries of "Kill him! +kill him!" A hundred blades flashed simultaneously over his head. + +"Hold!" cried Banfi in a voice of thunder, covering the herald with his +body; "this man's person is sacred and inviolable. To your places! +Sheathe your swords! I--your leader--command it!" + +"Eljen! eljen!" roared the brigades, and at the word of command they +fell back into their places and stood there like an iron wall. + +"You will not be very angry with me," said Banfi to the herald, who had +suddenly turned deadly pale, "you will not be very angry with me, I +hope, for making them obey me this once? Go back to the Prince and tell +him that in three days I will appear before him." + +"And tell him that we will be there too," cried the captains in chorus. + +The herald and his suite withdrew. Banfi moodily bent his head. + +The third flourish of trumpets had already sounded, and the banners were +all unfurled; but Banfi still continued staring blankly, darkly, dumbly +before him. + +"Draw your sword, my lord!" cried Angel; "place yourself at our head, +and let us start. First to Bonczhida and then to Fehervár." + +"What do you say?" said Banfi, with a start. "What is it?" + +"I say that if the law of the sword is to try you, the sword must also +be your defence." + +"And such a process is generally called _civil war_!" + +"We have not kindled it." + +"Nor will we fan it. 'Tis no longer, I see, a struggle against my +personal enemies, but against the Prince, and he is the head of the +land." + +"And are not you its right arm? If they choose to light up the flames of +civil war, we will not allow it to be quenched in your blood." + +"And why should my blood flow at all? Have I committed any capital +offence? Can I even be charged with such a thing?" + +"You are powerful, and that is a sufficient reason for killing you." + +"I care not. I'll go, and what is more, alone. My wife is in their +hands. They have the power to make me feel their wrath in the most +painful way, and if there were no other reason for appearing, it is my +knightly duty to release her." + +"You can save both her and yourself much more efficaciously by force of +arms." + +"I have nothing to fear. I have done nothing for which I need blush in +the sight of justice, and if they plot privily against me, are not you +here? Summon hither my Somlyo troops as well, and only intervene if they +practise foul play." + +"Oh, my lord! that army is good for nothing which is abandoned by its +leader. To-day it would go through fire and water for you, and is even +ready to proclaim you Prince; but to-morrow, when it hears that you have +appeared before the court, it will disperse and deny you." + +"They need know nothing of my resolution. I'll immediately take coach +and go to Fehervár. Tell the troops I've gone to Somlyo to collect my +other forces, and keep them under arms till you hear from me." + +With that Banfi rode off to Klausenburg, and Michael Angel irritably +stuck his sword into its sheath and told the troops that they might rest +if they felt tired. + + * * * * * + +An hour later Banfi was rolling in a carriage-and-four towards Torda, on +his way to Fehervár; a mounted servant led a spare horse after him by +the bridle. + +The further he withdrew from the seat of his power, the more anxious he +became. His soul wavered. He began to see phantoms at every step. Only +his pride prevented him from turning back again. + +Everything now wore a different aspect. He could read in the looks and +salutations of all whom he met what they thought of him. A smile was a +sign of compassion; a mere nod, a token of ill-will. He stopped to speak +to every one, even to very slight acquaintances, even to those whom he +had hitherto looked down upon or had never regarded at all. He even +condescended to question them. In the hour of misfortune it is wonderful +how a man recollects all his acquaintances. At such a time he who once +haughtily rejected the hand of friendship is ready to meet his very +enemy half-way. + +Suddenly he perceived an open carriage coming towards him from Torda, +and in it sat a man wrapped up in a grey cloak, in whom, as he passed, +Banfi recognized Martin Kuncz, the Unitarian bishop; he called to him to +stop for a moment. The bishop, not hearing him for the clatter of the +wheels, simply doffed his hat and drove on. Banfi thought he did it on +purpose, and took it for a very bad omen. He who ordinarily treated all +danger so lightly, now recoiled before the veriest bugbears. He stopped +his carriage, and taking horse bade his coachman drive on to Torda and +await him there. In the meantime he galloped after the bishop's +carriage, whereupon the bishop, catching sight of him, stopped and +awaited the magnate, who cried to him from a distance-- + +"So you will not answer when I speak to you, eh?" + +"I am at your lordship's command. I did not know that you wished to +speak to me." + +"You know my situation, I suppose? What do you think of it? What ought I +to do?" + +"In such a case, my lord, it is as difficult to give advice as to take +it." + +"I have resolved to appear to the citation." + +"Really, my lord?" + +"I have nothing to fear. I feel that my cause is just." + +"No doubt; but it does not follow that you will get justice because your +cause is just. In this world anything is possible." + +Banfi understood the allusion. He had formerly said the very same words +to the bishop, and now he had not even sufficient strength of mind to +leave him and go on his way defiantly; on the contrary, he dallied with +him for some time longer. + +"The Prince indeed is my enemy; but the Princess has always defended me, +and I have every confidence in her Highness." + +"Yes; but unfortunately the Prince has quarrelled with his consort. They +say that he even forbids her to enter his apartments." + +This answer seemed to quite confound Banfi; but he had still one hope +left. + +"I don't believe they'd dare to do me mischief, for they know that at +Klausenburg and Somlyo I have armies in battle array which can call them +to account at any moment." + +"Oh, my lord, it is difficult to direct an army from the walls of a +prison, and you know very well that a live dog is stronger than a dead +lion." + +These words seemed to produce a great change in Banfi. For a time he +moodily rode by Kuncz's carriage; then, after a long pause, he replied +in a very low voice--"You are right," gave his horse the spur, and rode +back to Klausenburg with the firm resolve of not allowing himself to be +enticed from his stronghold. + +On reaching the spot where scarcely six hours before he had restrained +the enthusiastic ardour of his troops, he was much surprised to find a +band of gipsies apparently searching for something on the ground. + +"What are you doing here?" cried he, as he came up to them. + +At this question their leader came forward, and recognizing Banfi, +humbly doffed his cap. + +"Verily, your Excellency, the gipsies have come hither to collect the +cartridges which the brave and noble gentlemen have scattered about +here." + +"But where then are the gentlemen?" + +"Gone, your Excellency." + +"But why, and whither?" + +"The moment they heard your lordship had quitted +Klausenburg--whew!--they dispersed in all directions." + +"And Michael Angel?" + +"He was the first to depart." + +Banfi felt sick and dizzy. The tears rushed to his eyes. To be so +abandoned by every one, by Fate, by his fellow-men, and even by his own +self-confidence! What now remained of all his former might? Whither +should he turn? What should he devise? Every way was closed against him. +Neither with the sword of justice nor with the sword of battle could he +fight. There was no hope and no refuge. + +His horse carried him whither it would. The magnate sat upon it with a +darkened face, staring blankly at the clouds or on the ground. The +earth, the sky, and his own heart--everything within him and around him +was dark and desolate. Hitherto his soul had been so full of pride that +there was no room for anything else, and now all his pride was gone, and +had left a hideous blank behind it. On, on he went; but it was his horse +that chose the road. Vast forests lay before him, and he thought--What +lies beyond those forests? Lofty hills. And what beyond the hills? Still +higher hills. And what then? The snowy peaks. And nowhere was there any +refuge or shelter for him! So at the very first stroke every one had +fallen away from him, and he who only the day before had ruled over the +half of Transylvania, and held fortresses at his disposal, cannot even +find a hut to shelter him from the night. Or shall he give himself up +to the derision of his enemies, and not even have the poor satisfaction +of meeting death with front erect and a smiling countenance? Shall he +perish ignobly like a hunted beast? He fell a-thinking. If die he must, +he would at least die like a man. But how? + +Gradually a thought began to dawn in his benighted soul, and with that +thought the colour returned to his cheeks. Slowly he raised his head, +and this secret thought ripening into a quick resolution, it was as +though a voice within him cried--"Yes! Thither! thither!" His eyes began +to sparkle, he turned his horse's head towards the forest, and +disappeared beneath the thick foliage. + + * * * * * + +The tempest is raging. The storm snaps the trees. The rain patters down, +and the swollen torrents roar. From time to time fitful lightning +flashes illumine the whole region, and snowy mountain peaks grow dark +and the black sky gleams white--and again the sky darkens and the snowy +peaks shine forth. + +The scanty patches of brushwood clinging to the bald rocks are rudely +torn and shaken by the hurricane, and the distant pine forests roar like +the last trump. Every beast crouches trembling in its den and listens to +the storm. + +Lofty, inaccessibly steep rocks shut out the horizon, and far, far down +in the vale below, like a toiling ant, we see a horseman struggling +through the pathless wilderness. + +God be merciful to him in such a night in such a place! + +It is the Devil's Garden! + + * * * * * + +A gorgeous oriental chamber opens out before us. Round about the walls +gleam hundreds of torches; but the ceiling is so lofty that it is +invisible, the light of the torches never reaches it. Two rows of +columns support the gigantic architrave, slender columns with capitals +in the shape of beasts' heads, as we are wont to see them in ancient +Persian temples. Splendid curtains fill up the interstices of the +columns. Moorish arabesques adorn the walls; the arched portals are +ablaze with gold and malachite. In the centre of the room a lofty red +velvet couch rests on four gold griffins with amethyst eyes. In front of +the couch is a little ivory table, supported by intertwining silver +snakes, and beside the table a golden censer exhales light-blue fragrant +clouds of ambergris and aloes. On the couch reclines a sylph-like girl +with languishing and yet ardent eyes. A string of pearls, dependent from +her neck, draws her light tunic up to her bosom. Her slender form is +girdled round the hips by a gorgeous oriental shawl. Her black locks are +held together by a golden fillet, which encircles her brows, and the +huge diamond clasp of this fillet flashes its myriad blinding rays +amidst her dark tresses, like a rainbow condensed into a star gleaming +through darkest night. + +The girl is alone. Everything around her is motionless. We seem to be in +an enchanted fairy palace. Nowhere a sound, a movement. + +Who would ever have thought of finding such a magic chamber in the +bowels of the earth, six hundred feet within the solid rock, on the +surface of which the storm is worrying the hardy shrubs and trees? + +It is the crypt of the Devil's Garden, and the woman, sylph or demon, +who inhabits it is Azrael. + +How can this woman live here so lonely, so far from everything human? + +And yet, why not? She is a whole world, a hell, to herself. Within the +resounding walls of the populous harem she felt herself lonely, and she +peoples this vast vault with the creations of her own wild fancy. Here +she shapes the future, forms endless plans, dreams of battles, of +intoxicating love, of more than earthly might, of new realms of which +she is the Queen, the Sun surrounded by her starry train. + +Suddenly a light trampling is heard overhead, as if some one were riding +over the vaulted roof. Azrael arises and listens. The sound of footsteps +is audible in the corridors, and presently three familiar, measured +knocks are heard at the doors. + +"'Tis he!" she whispers; springs from her couch, hastens to the door, +draws back the heavy bolts, tears the door violently open, and falls +into the arms of him who enters. + +"At last! at last!" she murmurs, twining her arms round the man's neck +and pressing her cheeks to his lips. + +The man is Denis Banfi. + +Sad, speechless, broken as he never was before, he does not even greet +the girl as he enters. He seems to freeze, all his limbs are trembling. +He has left his tiger-skin outside, but the drenching rain has soaked +him through and through. + +"Thou art wet to the skin," says the girl. "Quick! warm thyself. Thou +hast come from afar. Thou dost need repose," and dragging Banfi to her +couch, she took off his dolman, covered him with her own costly ermine +mantle, placed under his feet soft velvet cushions, which she first +warmed over the steaming censer, and pressing the man's frozen hands to +her throbbing bosom, warmed them there. + +Yet Banfi remained dumb. Misfortune seemed to be written on his +forehead. A far less practised eye, a far less penetrating genius than +Azrael's, could have seen at a glance that he was no longer the haughty +magnate he had been, but a fallen viceroy, whose fall was all the +greater because he had stood so high; who had come to her, not because +he had forsaken every one, but because every one had forsaken him; whom +not pleasure but despair had brought to this place. + +"I have been waiting for thee!" cried the girl, burying her head in +Banfi's bosom, while he played involuntarily with her rich tresses. "To +me thy absence is an eternity, thy presence but a fleeting moment." + +Not for all the world would Azrael have let Banfi perceive that she had +observed the change in him. She pushed a little round stool in front of +the couch, took up her mandolin, and began to sing with a voice of +thrilling sweetness one of those improvisations which the ardent +imagination of the East brings spontaneously to the lips, striking the +while with her fingers wild, fantastic chords. + +"If thou hast joy, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt have so much +the more. If thou hast grief, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt +have so much the less." + +Banfi looked at the odalisk with beetling brows. + +But Azrael struck fresh chords and began another song-- + +"False is the world and all that is therein! Every day the sun forsakes +the sky. Every day the sea forsakes her shores. Every year the swallow +forsakes her nest. But the maiden who loves never forsakes her beloved." + +Still Banfi remained silent. There he sat with staring, bloodshot eyes, +his head resting on his elbows, like a poor, mortally-wounded lion. + +And again the odalisk sang-- + +"If choice were thine, which wouldst thou choose--love with hell, or +heaven without love?" + +Banfi stretched out his arms towards Azrael, and as the odalisk, casting +away her mandolin, bent down to kiss his hand, he drew her to his +breast, and the odalisk, softly stroking Banfi's forehead, said-- + +"What mean these wrinkles on thy noble brow, which I have never seen +there before? Vainly do I charm them away with my kisses; they come back +again and again. Wait!--I'll cover them with this diadem. So!--how well +a kingly crown becomes thy brow!" + +Banfi uttered an inarticulate cry, tore the diadem from his head, and +hurled it far away, while with the other hand he roughly repulsed the +girl. Every line of his face proclaimed his agony of mind. The odalisk +looked into his face and could read there everything which had happened. + +This passionate outburst, however, aroused Banfi from out of his dull +despondency. He sprang from the couch, resumed with an effort his usual +proud, devil-may-care look, and raising the girl into the air cried, +with bitter, scornful mirth-- + +"Bring me wine! To-day I'll make merry! Over our heads the storm is +howling--let it howl! We'll laugh at it, eh! my pretty wench? To-day is +ours! On this one day we'll heap together everything which can bring +bliss and mad delight, so as to leave nothing for the morrow. Wine and +kisses and music--and hell-fire!" + +The girl skipped away like a chamois, and came back like a Hebe with a +large silver salver covered with gold goblets. + +"No, not the golden pocals!" cried Banfi. "They won't break when we dash +them against the wall. Serve the wine in Venetian crystals." + +The odalisk obediently brought forth the gorgeously-coloured and gilded +Venetian glasses, then so much in vogue, and pushed a broad, +short-legged table close to the couch. + +"Come, embrace me!" cried Banfi, drawing the girl to his bosom, and +gazing into her abysmal black eyes. + +"My love is an endless sea," whispered the girl, her hands resting on +Banfi's shoulder. + +"My desire is as hell itself, which drinks to the very dregs!" cried +Banfi, embracing the odalisk and pressing a burning kiss on her lips, as +if he would have drunk in her very soul. + +With that he seized the first glass that came to hand; the wine sparkled +in the torch-light. Azrael's kisses had not yet softened his heart. With +bitter scorn he raised the glass, and cried-- + +"I drink to my friends." + +He drained it to the last drop, and hurled it contemptuously against +the wall, so that it was shivered to pieces. Immediately afterwards he +seized a second glass-- + +"I drink to my enemies." + +With a wild peal of laughter he hurled the second glass into the air. In +its flight it almost reached the ceiling, but it fell back again on the +couch and did not break. + +"See, it mocks me and will not break!" exclaimed Banfi, with sparkling +eyes. + +Azrael sprang up, seized the glass, and crushed it beneath her foot. + +In Banfi's heart the flames of three passions began to mingle--wrath, +intoxication, and frantic love. + +He raised the third glass to his lips, and while the girl held his body +fast embraced, Banfi exclaimed, with flushed face and strident voice-- + +"I drink to Transylvania." + +He drained the glass, but when he took it from his lips, the smile had +frozen on his face, and instead of dashing the glass against the wall, +he placed it gently on the table. A cold shudder ran through him at his +own words--"I drink to Transylvania." + +He did not remove his hand from the glass, and would shyly have put it +aside in a safe place, when the crystal, without any visible cause, +suddenly burst in pieces, filling the magnate's hand with a million +fragments. + +The diamond ring on his finger had scratched the glass, which, as all +badly-cooled crystals are wont to do, shivered instantly at the contact, +scattering its sparkling fragments in every direction like a Bologna +flask. + +Banfi shrank shuddering back at this phenomenon and hid his face in +Azrael's bosom, as if he had seen a portentous enchantment. + +The girl, however, impetuously seized her glass and cried exultantly-- + +"I drink to our love." + +Her voice broke the spell of Banfi's sobering horror and plunged him +into frenzied joy. He caught the slim, supple body of the odalisk in his +arms, and pressed her to him with the strength of a boa-constrictor: she +was almost stifled in his embrace. + +"I know not what you have given me to drink," stammered Banfi, "but I +have lost my head. I am beside myself for love." + +"Then take heed that thou dost not faint. Long hast thou let me +languish, and I swore that when next thou camest, to murder thee in thy +sleep, so that thou mightest never forsake me more." + +"Oh, do it, do it," whispered he, and drawing his dagger from his girdle +and stretching himself at full length upon the couch, he laid bare his +breast with one hand and gave the girl the dagger with the other. + +Azrael, with demoniacal ferocity, grasped the dagger by its beryl +handle, and threw herself like an armed Fury upon Banfi, who looked at +her with a frenzied smile as the sharp edge of the dagger grazed his +breast. Then the weapon fell from the hand of the odalisk, and the +madly-distended eyes and lips resumed their languishing smile. + +"Kill me rather than forsake me," stammered the girl, embracing Banfi. + +"We'll die together, eh?" + +"Yes, yes!" + +"Jest not, Azrael. I am ready to do what I say." + +"And I am ready to die," replied the girl. "Come, I'll show thee +something,"--and with that, drawing aside the carpet, she lifted up a +trap-door, beneath which was visible through the gloom a deeper, lower +room, supported by short, stout, arched columns, close beside which a +number of large barrels had been placed. + +"Yes," said Banfi, "I know. In that cellar I have hidden the gunpowder +which I saved after John Kemeny's fall." + +"Look at this long nitrous linstock," said Azrael, drawing up the end of +a thick cotton coil out of the cellar; "the barrels are connected with +it, and many a time when thou hast been with me have I had the end of +this lunt under the cushions of my couch, and held in my couch the torch +which was to have kindled it whilst thou wert sleeping with thy head +upon my breast, and I lay and listened calmly for the explosion which +was to send us both to heaven or to hell." + +"And you were afraid to do it?" + +"Not for myself. But I reflected that thou wert not thine own but thy +country's." + +"I belong to no one now." + +"Thy mind was so full of lofty plans. Destiny chose thee to be a Prince +among men, a hero among the kings of the earth whose name should fill +the pages of history." + +"All that is over now," cried Banfi, with drunken self-forgetfulness. +"I am nobody and nothing. The vault beneath this floor is all that +belongs to me. In the world without I am a fugitive and a vagabond." + +"Ha!" hissed Azrael. "Then thy enemies have triumphed over thee?" + +"My curse be upon their heads! I had compassion upon them, so I have +perished." + +"Is Csaky also among thy persecutors?" + +"Yes; he is my most pitiless pursuer." + +"And have all thy faithful friends deserted thee?" + +"The fallen has no faithful friends." + +"Thou mightst hire mercenaries and begin the struggle anew. Thou art +rich enough." + +"My wealth has gone." + +"Thou mightst beg for help from foreign lands." + +"That would be treason against my country. I have fallen and know what +awaits me. I must die. But my enemies shall not triumph at my death as +at a festival, or laugh aloud to see me go pale and downcast to my doom. +I will die alone." + +"By Allah, thou shalt not die alone! Come, let us fill our glasses. +Accursed be the world! we'll speak of it no more. Come, stifle thy soul +in the delirium of joy, and when thy drooping head sinks down upon my +breast, I will light the end of this lunt. Thou shalt dream of bliss, of +paradise, of kisses ravished and returned; the twofold throbbing of our +hearts shall beat the minutes; here below, the stillness of death; there +above, the howling of the tempest and of thy foes; and then an +earthquaking thunder, rending and scattering the rocks, shall proclaim +to heaven and hell that none shall ever find Denis Banfi here on earth +again!" + +"Azrael, thou art a devil, and I love thee!" cried Banfi, and he clasped +the girl in his arms as if she had been a little child. + + * * * * * + +An hour has passed, and the room has grown dark. The torches are +expiring. In the huge vaulted chamber no other light is visible but the +red vapour streaming from the orifices of the censer, which gleams like +a many-eyed monster, and the burning end of the linstock, lit by Banfi +in the midst of his mad orgy, crawling slowly along the room like a +fiery serpent. + +Naught is to be heard in the deep silence but the sighs of two lovers, +and the throbbing of two hearts. + +Banfi slept long. + +Suddenly he awoke. Pitch-black darkness surrounded him. It was some time +before his reeling brain could realize where he was, or why he was +there. He felt an icy wind streaming through the room, but it was only +after a long interval that he grasped the fact that a door was open +somewhere, and that the cold night air was rushing in from outside. + +Gradually the scenes of the by-gone night and the vows of death came +back to his mind, and he felt that he still lived. "The girl has +certainly repented of her wish to die," thought he, and he began to +grope about for her. The couch was empty. + +"Azrael! Azrael!" he cried repeatedly; but there was no answer. + +At last he tottered to his feet, and snatching some embers from the +hearth, lit a torch. The solitary, feeble light did not penetrate far, +but as far as it extended Azrael was nowhere to be seen. + +The first thing he perceived was the linstock cut in two by a pair of +shears. + +"Coward soul!" he growled, and, pierced through and through by the air, +would have put on his mantle, when a roll of parchment fell at his feet, +and picking it up he recognized Azrael's handwriting, and read as +follows-- + +"My lord, you read not hearts aright. We give our love for our own +sakes, but we do not give ourselves for love's sake. You have frittered +away your power, and, deserted by all the world, think to find me +faithful who loved your power and that only: I am his who has inherited +that power. He who is in the ascendant I adore, but I hate and despise +the fallen. Corsar Beg's fate should have warned you that one day you +too might fare like him ..." + +Banfi could not read it to the end. His face grew dark with shame. "To +sink so low as this! This wretched slavish soul even while embracing me +was devising treachery! And I to wish to spend my last moments in the +arms of such a monster----" At that moment he _loathed_ himself. + +"Cowardice and infamy! A man who has lived as I have lived, to desire +such a death! He who has always been wont to meet his foes face to face, +to hide himself from them in his last moments!--to hide himself in the +arms of a slave! Shame upon him! + +"This lesson has done me good. It was meet that I who could forget a +wife who sacrificed herself to deliver me out of the hands of my +enemies, should fall into the power of a harlot who would have betrayed +me to them. Yet even now it is not too late. My life is forfeit, but at +least I can save my honour. None shall be able to boast that he has +betrayed me. My enemies shall never say that I hid myself from them and +they found me out. I'll appear before them boldly, as I ought to have +done at first." + +Full of this resolution, Banfi went straightway into the secret +courtyard, where he had left his horse. He was surprised to find it no +longer there. The odalisk had taken it away with her. + +He smiled disdainfully. + +"What matters it, so long as she has not stolen me also." + +He returned into the rocky chamber, rekindled the lunt, came out, and +closing the iron door behind him made his way along the banks of the +cold Szamos. + +Towards midday he sat down on the bank to rest, and he had scarcely been +there a quarter of an hour, when he heard the trampling of horses, and +looking up--the bushes completely concealed him--beheld Ladislaus Csaky +and Azrael on horseback, side by side, at the head of an armed band. The +girl seemed to be pointing out something to Csaky on the rocks above, +and the worthy gentleman was beside himself for joy. + +Banfi smiled scornfully. + +"Poor Tartars!" + +As soon as the band had passed by, Banfi continued his journey. He had +not gone far when he came upon a poor peasant cleaving wood. + +"Dost know whither that armed band has gone?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir. They have gone to capture Denis Banfi, on whose head a great +price has been set." + +"How much?" + +"If a noble capture him he will receive an estate, if a peasant, two +hundred ducats." + +"Little enough, but enough for you, I dare say. I am Denis Banfi." + +The peasant took off his cap. + +"Does my lord wish to be led anywhither?" + +"Lead me to the place where they will pay you two hundred ducats." + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour afterwards a tremendous explosion resounded +through the mountains, which shook the earth for half-a-mile around. The +enchanted garden of the Gradina Dracului had collapsed into an +inaccessible chaos. + +Csaky had fortunately lingered on the road, or he and his company would +have perished utterly. + +On returning, he found Banfi already under arrest, and was thus deprived +of the glory of having captured his foe with his own hand. He +immediately hastened to accost him, and, with exquisite malice, brought +with him the odalisk, who looked at Banfi as if she had never seen him +before. + +Banfi, however, since his voluntary surrender, had quite resumed his +former sangfroid, and looking contemptuously over his shoulder at Csaky, +said-- + +"So your Excellency means in future to wear my cast-off clothes, eh?" + +At this bitter jest Azrael hissed like a snake upon whose tail one has +suddenly trodden, whilst Csaky blushed up to his ears and tried hard to +smile. + +"Does your Excellency desire any favour from me?" asked Csaky presently, +with insulting commiseration. + +"None from _your_ Excellency. I came here of my own free will, and have +been arrested I know not why. My wife, therefore, can now be set free." + +"So at last we begin to whine for our wife, eh?" + +"On the contrary. So far from wishing to meet her, I desire that as soon +as I am put in prison she should be let go." + +"It shall be as you desire, my lord!" replied Csaky, with ironical +benevolence. + +Banfi requited him with a look of the most withering contempt, and +turning to the jailers entered into conversation with them: the magnates +he no longer regarded. + + * * * * * + +When Teleki heard of the capture of Banfi, he ordered him to be sent at +once to Bethlen Castle, to make the world believe that the anti-Banfi +faction was headed, not by him, but by Beldi, to whom the castle +belonged. + +On his way thither, the captive magnate learnt that his consort had +already been released, and thus relieved of his one remaining anxiety, +cared little for the rest. + +On reaching Bethlen Castle he was received by the Rev. Stephen Pataky, +Rector of Klausenburg, to whom he cried jocosely-- + +"So they've appointed you my father confessor, eh?" + +Pataky wept bitterly, but Banfi only smiled. + +The jailer conducted Banfi up the steps with every demonstration of +respect. + +Banfi turned round to him. + +"I hope you will let Reverend Master Pataky remain with me all the +time?" said he. + +Pataky was understood to say through his sobs-- + +"Truly your Excellency will find far better company awaiting you than +any my poor self can offer." + +Banfi, not knowing what to say to this, only shrugged his shoulders and +hastened towards the door of his prison, but remained standing on the +threshold transfixed with astonishment. In the room was a lady in deep +mourning, who turned very pale on perceiving him, and clung to the table +unable to utter a word. + +Banfi felt all his blood rush to his heart. The next moment he darted +impetuously forward and cried-- + +"My wife! Margaret!" + +The lady threw herself upon her husband's breast and sobbed aloud. + +"What! have they not released you?" inquired Banfi anxiously. + +"I would not be released," answered Margaret. "How _could_ I forsake you +in your prison?" + +The tears came to Banfi's eyes. Speechless he sank to the ground, and +covered her hands with glowing kisses. + +"While we were what the world calls happy we might avoid each other," +said Margaret, with a choking voice, "but misfortune has brought us +together again," and she bowed her head to kiss her husband's forehead. + +Banfi fell senseless at her feet. It was more than even his strong soul +could bear. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE SENTENCE. + + +The Diet, hastily summoned to Fehervár, strongly disapproved of the +secret proceedings against Banfi. Paul Beldi was the first to declare +that even if Banfi could be arrested by means of a league, a Diet was +the only tribunal which could try him, and insisted that he should have +every opportunity of defending himself. + +The Prince came to the Diet with red eyes, an aching head, and a very +irritable temper--the usual witnesses of a drunken debauch. + +Teleki, finding the Diet beyond his control, got Apafi to dissolve it, +by persuading him that if Banfi were brought before it he would escape +altogether, and even turn the two-edged sword of justice against the +Prince himself. + +In the Privy Council itself, Kozma Horvath's opposition to the +extra-judicial prosecution was all in vain. The league drew up +thirty-seven articles of accusation against Banfi, and the magnate was +impeached. + +Most of these articles were so utterly frivolous as to need no reply. +Banfi's real offence was his pretension to the throne, and this they +dared not bring forward at all. + +Banfi manfully replied on every count. In vain. Defend himself as he +might, his adversaries knew only too well how much they had offended +him: they could not afford to let him live. + +The matter came to the vote. + +Banfi was condemned to death. + +On the day when this took place, no one could get at the Prince except +the members of the league, who were constantly going in and out of +Apafi's apartments with hasty steps and eager faces. + +Towards evening they succeeded in bringing the besotted Prince to sign +the sentence. It was no longer possible to recognize in the +spectre-haunted drunkard the mild and gentle Prince, who had had a tear +for the sorrows of the meanest of his servants. + +Saddled horses and long rows of carriages had been standing before the +castle gates since midday. Suddenly Ladislaus Csaky came very hastily +out of the castle with a document hidden in the folds of his pelisse, +and calling for his horse, mounted, nodded significantly to the other +gentlemen who had followed him out, and galloped away. The other +gentlemen thereupon leapt into their carriages, or on to their horses, +with as much expedition as if some one was pursuing them, and exchanging +hurried whispers, decamped so swiftly that in a few moments the Prince +was left entirely alone. + +Teleki was the last who quitted him. The Prince accompanied the minister +to the very end of the ante-chamber. Black care was written in his face. +He would hardly let Teleki go. + +Teleki coldly withdrew his hand from the Prince's grasp. + +"You have no need to brood over it, sir. It is not a question of the +life of a man, but of the welfare of a state. If my own neck had stood +in the way, I would have said, Hew it off! I say the same when it is +another's." + +With that he took his leave. + +Apafi could not remain in his room. He was obliged to go out into the +fresh open air. Inside something seemed to choke him, the air was so +oppressive--or was it his own conscience? He went into the garden. The +cool night air soothed his throbbing head; the sight of the starry +heaven did good to his darkened soul. Leaning over the balcony, he +looked amazedly out into the quiet night, as if he expected a star +larger than all the rest to fall from heaven, or some one miles and +miles away to call him by name. + +Suddenly a scream fell on his ear. + +He looked around with a shudder, and terror made him speechless--before +him stood his consort, whom his counsellors had kept away from him for +weeks. + +The moment the last magnate had departed, her own faithful servants told +her that the Prince had signed the death-warrant, and the terrified +woman, breaking through the castle guards, rushed after Apafi, found him +in the garden, seized him roughly, and shrieking rather than speaking in +her agitation, exclaimed-- + +"Oh, accursed, accursed wretch! Thou hast shed innocent blood!" + +Apafi tried to avoid his wife. He feared her. + +"What do you want with me?" he asked in a hollow voice. "What do you +mean?" + +"You have signed Banfi's death-warrant." + +"I!" cried Apafi feebly, trying to catch hold of his wife's hand. + +"Away with that hand, monster! It is stained with my kinsman's blood." + +"Then you don't consent to it?" stammered the abject creature. "Neither +did I, but the magnates constrained me." + +The Princess smote her hands together, and looked at her consort +despairingly. + +"You have brought blood on our family! You have brought a curse on the +land and on me! Oh, why did I not let you perish in the hands of the +Tartars? Where you are concerned virtue itself becomes a sin." + +Apafi was crushed. Alone with his wife, he was something less than a +man. + +"I did not wish to kill him," he blurted out, "nor do I now; and if you +wish it, I'll reprieve him. Here, take my signet-ring. Send a horseman +after Csaky to Bethlen Castle. Reprieve your cousin and leave me in +peace." + +"What ho, there! Who is without?" shrieked the Princess. + +The domestic servants came pouring in, headed by the pantler. + +"Take four of the Prince's swiftest horses with you," cried Anna, as she +wrote out the pardon with her own hand and made her husband sign and +seal it. "Take this letter and hasten to Bethlen Castle. If one of the +horses falls under you, take the others. Stop not an instant on the +road! A man's life is in your hands!" + +The grooms led forward the swift horses; the pantler swung himself into +the saddle, and, leading the other three horses by the bridles, galloped +away. + +The Princess impatiently followed him with her eyes till he was out of +sight, and then went up to her room again; but unable to rest there +long, she came down once more, sent for her faithful old servant Andrew, +and giving him an old piece of green velvet,[56] set him on horseback +and sent him after the pantler. + + [Footnote 56: Green velvet was the symbol of the + princely dignity in Transylvania.] + +"If the Prince's reprieve arrives too late, this will be a cere-cloth +wherein to wrap the murdered man." + + * * * * * + +The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Paul Beldi called his +chief groom, bade him mount his swiftest horse, ride to Bethlen Castle, +and inform the castellan there that he would cut his head off if the +slightest harm happened to Banfi at Bethlen. He too dared not face his +wife at that moment. + + * * * * * + +The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Michael Teleki pressed +the hand of his future son-in-law Tököli, and whispered in his ear, "We +are a step nearer." And beneath the pressure of the youth's iron hand, +the engagement ring which knitted him to Teleki's daughter snapped in +two, and Teleki took it as an omen[57] that, one day, the hand of this +youth would be stronger than his own. + + [Footnote 57: The omen was justified when, nearly + thirty years later, Tököli defeated and slew Teleki at + the battle of Zernyes, 1691.] + + * * * * * + +That night all Transylvania was greatly disturbed. Farkas Bethlen could +not sleep in his bed all night. Stephen Apor was so unwell that he had +to send for his confessor, and Kornis lost himself so completely on his +way home that he was forced to sleep in his carriage. + +And what was going on in heaven? Towards midnight a storm arose, the +like of which the oldest men could not call to mind. The lightning set +forests and castles on fire; the falling clouds drove the rivers out of +their beds. The alarm bells resounded everywhere. God sat in judgment +over the land that night. The whole population was sleepless. + + * * * * * + +Only the reconciled consorts slept calmly. + +With one arm under her husband's head and the other embracing him, the +pale and fragile lady fell asleep. At times she wept in her dreams, and +her tears fell on the pillow. She was dreaming of her happy bridal days, +and of that sweet moment when she had laid her first and only child in +her husband's arms, and she pressed him more closely to her, while he +lay sleeping there so calmly, at enmity with the world, but reconciled +to himself and to the better-half of his soul. Happiness, which had fled +him in his palace, sought him out in his dungeon. + +The night lamp cast its pale rays on the sleeping forms. + + * * * * * + +Through that terrible night, four horsemen, scarcely a thousand paces +apart, are galloping at full speed towards Bethlen Castle. During the +lightning flashes they sometimes catch a glimpse of each other, and then +each of them digs his spurs more deeply into his horse's sides. + +The first horseman reaches the castle gate and winds the signal horn. +The drawbridge sinks groaning down; the horseman springs into the +courtyard and places a letter in the hands of the flurried castellan. It +is Paul Beldi's messenger. + +The horseman who next arrives at the castle orders the gates to be +opened in the name of the Prince. He hands the castellan a second +letter. It is Ladislaus Csaky. + +The castellan grows pale as he reads this letter. + +"My lord," says he, "I have just received a message from Paul Beldi, +threatening us with death in case any harm befalls the prisoner." + +"You have your choice," answered Csaky. "If you obey me, Beldi may +perhaps cut off your head to-morrow; but if you don't obey me, I'll cut +off your head myself this instant." + +The trembling castellan bowed submission. + +"Up with the drawbridge!" commanded Csaky. "None must enter this castle +without my permission. Whoever acts against my orders is a dead man!" + + * * * * * + +The spouses lay tranquilly sleeping in each other's arms. A minute later +the door creaked on its hinges, and the Rev. Stephen Pataky, tearful and +terrified, entered the dungeon. His heart died within him when he saw +the consorts sleeping so calmly side by side. + +He stepped up to Banfi to rouse him. As he touched his hand, Banfi +awoke, and perceiving Pataky, who could not speak for emotion, tried to +disengage his head from his wife's encircling arm without awakening her. +At that very moment Lady Banfi opened her eyes. Pataky, wishing to +conceal the fatal message from her, addressed Banfi in the Latin +tongue-- + +"_Surge Domine! sententia lethalis adest!_"[58] + + [Footnote 58: Arise, sir, the death-warrant has come!] + +Lady Banfi, terrified by these mysterious words, the meaning of which +Pataky's face so ill concealed, asked in mortal fear what was the +matter. + +"Nothing, my darling! nothing!" said Banfi, embracing her with a tender +smile. "A pressing message which I must attend to at once. I'll be back +again soon! Lie down and sleep gently!" + +With these words he persuaded his wife to fall back upon her pillow, +kissed her repeatedly with great tenderness, and soothed her caressingly +between each kiss--"My soul! my delight! my love! my heaven!" + +The wife little suspected that this was the parting kiss of a man about +to meet his doom; Banfi looked at her so smilingly, feigning a joyful +countenance as he stood on the threshold of death. + +Then the castle horn again sounded. The Princess's first messenger had +arrived, and demanded admittance in her Highness's name. + +Csaky rushed hastily up-stairs, and just as Banfi, after half reassuring +his consort, was about to quit her, suddenly burst open the door, and +cried-- + +"Why so long a leave-taking? Get ready! The sentence stays for +execution!" + +Lady Banfi with a piercing scream rose from her couch, and stretching +out both her arms towards Banfi, gazed speechlessly at him for a moment, +then, clutching at her heart, fell back dead upon her pillow with +wide-open eyes. + +Banfi looked at his enemy with the bitterness of death, his streaming +eyes hurled more curses at him than any lip could have uttered. + +"Base, cowardly wretch!" he moaned, "was it then part of your mandate to +murder my wife also?" + +Csaky turned his head away, and said in a hoarse voice-- + +"Hasten! the time is short!" + +"Short for me, but it shall be long for you! For a time is coming when +you will curse the day of your birth, and will not be able to die as +calmly as I do!--Leave me!--I would fain pray; but I cannot call upon my +God while you are nigh!" + +Csaky, overcome despite himself, quitted the room. + +Banfi laid his hand on his forehead and prayed. + +Outside the heavens were thundering. + +"O God! who dost thunder on high, take my blood as a sacrifice for my +sins, but let not a drop of it fall on the heads of those who shed it! +Suffer not my native land to pay the price of my blood! Guard this poor +land from every ill! Visit not this people in Thy anger, but be their +refuge and their sure defence in the evil day! Forgive my enemies my +death, as I forgive them!" + +The thunder roared terribly. God was wroth that day. He would not +hearken to such a prayer. + +"Is your Excellency ready?" inquired Csaky impatiently, whilst the +Princess's messengers hammered furiously at the gates, and demanded +instant admission. + +Banfi stepped up to his lifeless consort and kissed her cold, pale face +for the last time; then, turning calmly to Csaky, he said-- + +"Yes; I am ready now!" + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour later Csaky admitted the messengers. + +"What do you bring?" he asked the pantler. + +"The Prince's pardon for the prisoner." + +"You are too late!--And you?" + +"A cere-cloth for the corpse!" + +"You have brought it very opportunely." + +The highest head of the Transylvanian nobility had already fallen in the +dust. + + * * * * * + +The tragedy ends with the hero's death. + +The tide of history brings other shapes and other leaders to the +surface. The fate, the fashion, and the history of Transylvania are no +longer the same.[59] The sword-stroke which slew Banfi cut short an +epoch only half begun. The body of that dominating form reposes in the +crypt of the church at Bethlen, and no one has inherited his spirit. + + [Footnote 59: The subsequent fortunes of Apafi, Csaky, + Teleki, Tököli, Azrael, and Feriz are related in + Jokai's second historical novel, _Törökvilag + Magyarorzagbán_ (_The Turks in Hungary_), which is a + sequel to the present story, and ends with the collapse + of the Turkish power in Hungary.] + +But the chronicles say that whenever danger threatens Transylvania, the +blood of the buried patriot flows from his simple tomb, a terror to the +people, and a wonder to the world. + + +THE END. + + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, +LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + + +11, HENRIETTA STREET, W.C., +_May, 1894._ + +BOOKS +PUBLISHED BY +CHAPMAN & HALL, LD. +(A SELECTION.) + + +=Adams (Henry), M.I.C.E., etc.= + +=BUILDING CONSTRUCTION.= Key to Examinations of Science and Art +Department. 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Large crown 8vo, +9s. + + +=Dyce (William), R.A.= + +DRAWING-BOOK OF THE GOVERNMENT SCHOOL OF DESIGN. Fifty selected Plates. +Folio, sewed, 5s.; mounted, 18s. + +ELEMENTARY OUTLINES OF ORNAMENT. Plates I. to XXII., containing 97 +Examples, adapted for Practice of Standards I. to IV. Small folio, +sewed, 2s. 6d. + + +=Elliot (Frances Minto)=, _Author of "Old Court Life in France," etc._ + +OLD COURT LIFE IN SPAIN. 2 vols. Demy 8vo, 24s. + + +=Ellis (A. B.)=, _Colonel 1st West India Regiment_. + +THE YORUBA-SPEAKING PEOPLES OF THE SLAVE COAST OF WEST AFRICA: their +Religion, Manners, Customs, Laws, Language, etc. With an Appendix and +Map. Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. + +HISTORY OF THE GOLD COAST OF WEST AFRICA. Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. + +THE EWE-SPEAKING PEOPLE OF THE SLAVE COAST OF WEST AFRICA. With Map. +Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. + +THE TSHI-SPEAKING PEOPLES OF THE GOLD COAST OF WEST AFRICA; Their +Religion, Manners, Customs, Laws, Language, etc. With Map. Demy 8vo, +10s. 6d. + +SOUTH AFRICAN SKETCHES. 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With +Illustrations by G. D. ROWLANDSON. 2 vols. 30s. + +FRENCH REVOLUTIONARY GENERALS. Large crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Grimble (A.).= + +SHOOTING AND SALMON FISHING: HINTS AND RECOLLECTIONS. With +Illustrations. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 16s. + + +=Gundry (R. S.).= + +CHINA AND HER NEIGHBOURS. France in Indo-China, Russia and China, India +and Thibet, etc. With Maps. Demy 8vo, 9s. + + +=Hall (Sidney).= + +A TRAVELLING ATLAS OF THE ENGLISH COUNTIES. Fifty Maps, coloured. Roan +tuck, 10s. 6d. + + +=Harris (Frank).= + +ELDER CONKLIN, AND OTHER STORIES. Crown 8vo. + + +=Hartington (Edward).= + +THE NEW ACADEME: An Educational Romance, Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Hatton (Richard G.).= _Durham College of Science, Newcastle-on-Tyne._ + +ELEMENTARY DESIGN: being a Theoretical and Practical Introduction in the +Art of Decoration. With 110 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Hildebrand (Hans).= + +INDUSTRIAL ARTS OF SCANDINAVIA IN THE PAGAN TIMES. With numerous +Woodcuts. 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With upwards of 100 Illustrations by +F. G. KITTON, HERBERT RAILTON, and others. Second and Cheaper Edition. +Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Hutchinson (Rev. H. N.).= + +CREATURES OF OTHER DAYS. With Illustrations by J. Smit and others. [_In +the Press._ + +EXTINCT MONSTERS. A popular Account of some of the larger forms of +Ancient Animal Life. With numerous Illustrations by J. SMIT and others, +and a Preface by DR. HENRY WOODWARD, F.R.S. Third Thousand, revised and +enlarged. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +INDUSTRIAL ARTS: Historical Sketches. With numerous Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 3s. + + +=Jackson (Frank G.).= + +DECORATIVE DESIGN. An Elementary Text Book of Principles and Practice. +With numerous Illustrations. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=James (Henry A.), M.A.= + +HANDBOOK TO PERSPECTIVE. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + +PERSPECTIVE CHARTS, for use in Class Teaching. 2s. + + +=Jokai (Maurus).= + +PRETTY MICHAL. Translated by R. NISBET BAIN. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Jones.= + +HANDBOOK OF THE JONES COLLECTION IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. With +Portrait and Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. + + +=Jopling (Louise).= + +HINTS TO AMATEURS. A Handbook on Art With Diagrams. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d. + + +=Junker (Dr. Wm.).= + +TRAVELS IN AFRICA. Translated from the German by Professor A. H. KEANE, +F.R.G.S. 1875-1886. Profusely Illustrated. 3 vols. Demy 8vo. 21s. each. + + +=Kelly (James Fitzmaurice).= + +THE LIFE OF MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA: A Biographical, Literary, and +Historical Study, with a Tentative Bibliography from 1585 to 1892, and +an Annotated Appendix on the "Canto de Calíope." Demy 8vo, 16s. + + +=Kempt (Robert).= + +CONVIVIAL CALEDONIA: Inns and Taverns of Scotland, and some Famous +People who have frequented them. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Kennard (H. Martyn).= + +PHILISTINES AND ISRAELITES: A New Light on the World's History. Demy +4to, 6s. + + +=Lacordaire (Père).= + +JESUS CHRIST; GOD; and GOD AND MAN. Conferences delivered at Notre Dame, +in Paris. Seventh Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Laing (S.).= + +HUMAN ORIGINS: EVIDENCE FROM HISTORY AND SCIENCE. With Illustrations. +Twelfth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE AND ESSAYS. Thirteenth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. +6d. + +MODERN SCIENCE AND MODERN THOUGHT. Nineteenth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. +6d. + +A MODERN ZOROASTRIAN. Eighth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Lanin (E. B.).= + +RUSSIAN CHARACTERISTICS. Reprinted, with Revisions, from _The +Fortnightly Review_. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Le Conte (Joseph).= + +EVOLUTION: ITS NATURE, ITS EVIDENCES, AND ITS RELATIONS TO RELIGIOUS +THOUGHT. A New and Revised Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Lefevre (André).= + +PHILOSOPHY, Historical and Critical Translated, with an Introduction, by +A. H. KEANE, B.A. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Leroy-Beaulieu (Anatole)=, _Member of the Institute of France_. + +PAPACY, SOCIALISM, AND DEMOCRACY. Translated by B. L. O'DONNELL. Crown. +8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Leslie (R. C).= + +THE SEA BOAT: HOW TO BUILD, RIG, AND SAIL HER. With Illustrations. Crown +8vo, 4s. 6d. + +LIFE ABOARD A BRITISH PRIVATEER IN THE TIME OF QUEEN ANNE. Being the +Journals of Captain Woodes Rogers, Master Mariner. New and cheaper +Edition. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +A SEA-PAINTER'S LOG. With 12 Full-page Illustrations by the Author. +Large crown 8vo, 12s. + + +=Letourneau (Dr. Charles).= + +SOCIOLOGY. Based upon Ethnology. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +BIOLOGY. With 83 Illustrations. A New Edition. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Lilly (W. S.).= + +THE CLAIMS OF CHRISTIANITY. Demy 8vo. + +ON SHIBBOLETHS. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +ON RIGHT AND WRONG. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +A CENTURY OF REVOLUTION. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +CHAPTERS ON EUROPEAN HISTORY. 2 vols. Demy 8vo, 21s. + +ANCIENT RELIGION AND MODERN THOUGHT. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s. + + +=Lineham (W. J.).= + +TEXT BOOK OF MECHANICAL ENGINEERING. With numerous Illustrations. Crown +8vo. [_In the Press._ + + +=Lineham (Mrs. Ray S.).= + +THE STREET OF HUMAN HABITATIONS. Fully Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Little (The Rev. Canon Knox).= + +THE WAIF FROM THE WAVES: a Story of Three Lives, touching this World and +another. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +THE CHILD OF STAFFERTON. Twelfth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in +cloth, 1s. 6d. + +THE BROKEN VOW. Seventeenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in cloth, +1s. 6d. + + +=Lloyd (W. W.)=, _late 24th Regiment_. + +ON ACTIVE SERVICE. Printed in Colours. Oblong 4to, 5s. + +SKETCHES OF INDIAN LIFE. Printed in Colours. 4to, 6s. + + +=McDermott (P. L.)=, _Assistant Secretary_. + +BRITISH EAST AFRICA: A History of the Formation and Work of the Imperial +British East Africa Company. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Macdonald (F. A.).= + +OUR OCEAN RAILWAYS; or, the Rise, Progress, and Development of Ocean +Steam Navigation, etc, etc. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Malleson (Col. G. B.), C.S.I.= + +THE LIFE OF WARREN HASTINGS. [_In the Press._ + +PRINCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 6s. + +LOUDON. A Sketch of the Military Life of Gideon Ernest, Freiherr von +Loudon. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Mallock (W. H.).= + +A HUMAN DOCUMENT. One Volume. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Marceau (Sergent).= + +REMINISCENCES OF A REGICIDE. Edited from the Original MSS. of SERGENT +MARCEAU, Member of the Convention, and Administrator of Police in the +French Revolution of 1789. By M. C. M. SIMPSON. With Illustrations and +Portraits. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Maskell (Alfred).= + +RUSSIAN ART AND ART OBJECTS IN RUSSIA. A Handbook to the Reproduction of +Goldsmith's Work and Other Art Treasures. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + + +=Maskell (William).= + +IVORIES: ANCIENT AND MEDIÆVAL. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +HANDBOOK TO THE DYCE AND FORSTER COLLECTIONS. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Maspéro (G.)=, _late Director of Archæology in Egypt_. + +LIFE IN ANCIENT EGYPT AND ASSYRIA. Translated by A. P. Morton. With 188 +Illustrations. Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Meredith (George).= + +(_For List of Works see page 16._) + + +=Mills (John)=, _formerly Assistant to the Solar Physics Committee_. + +ADVANCED PHYSIOGRAPHY (PHYSIOGRAPHIC ASTRONOMY). Designed to meet the +Requirements of Students preparing for the Elementary and Advanced +Stages of Physiography in the Science and Art Department Examinations, +and as an Introduction to Physical Astronomy. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + +ELEMENTARY PHYSIOGRAPHIC ASTRONOMY. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + +ALTERNATIVE ELEMENTARY PHYSICS. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d. + + +=Mills (John) and North (Barker).= + +QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS (INTRODUCTORY LESSONS ON). With numerous Woodcuts. +Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d. + +HANDBOOK OF QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Mitre (General Don Bartolomé)=, _first Constitutional President of the +Argentine Republic_. + +THE EMANCIPATION OF SOUTH AMERICA. Being a Condensed Translation, by +WILLIAM PILLING, of "The History of San Martin." With Maps. Demy 8vo, +12s. + + +=Molesworth (W. Nassau).= + +HISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE YEAR 1830 TO THE RESIGNATION OF THE +GLADSTONE MINISTRY, 1874. Twelfth Thousand. 3 vols. Crown 8vo, 18s. + +ABRIDGED EDITION. Large crown, 7s. 6d. + + +=N'Zau (Bula).= + +CONGO FREE STATE AND ITS BIG GAME SHOOTING, TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES. +Illustrated from the Author's sketches. Demy 8vo. [_In the Press._ + + +=Nesbitt (Alexander).= + +GLASS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=O'Byrne (Robert), F.R.G.S.= + +THE VICTORIES OF THE BRITISH ARMY IN THE PENINSULA AND THE SOUTH OF +FRANCE from 1808 to 1814. An Epitome of Napier's History of the +Peninsular War, and Gurwood's Collection of the Duke of Wellington's +Despatches. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Oliver (Professor D.), LL.D., F.L.S., F.R.S.= + +ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL NATURAL ORDERS OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM, +prepared for the Science and Art Department of Council of Education. +With 109 Coloured Plates by W. H. FITCH, F.L.S. New Edition. Royal 8vo, +16s. + + +=Oliver (E. E.)=, _Under-Secretary to the Public Works Department, +Punjaub_. + +ACROSS THE BORDER; or, PATHAN AND BILOCH. With numerous Illustrations by +J. L. KIPLING, C.I.E. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Papus.= + +THE TAROT OF the BOHEMIANS. The most ancient book in the world. For the +exclusive use of the Initiates. An Absolute Key to Occult Science. With +numerous Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Paske (Surgeon-General C. T.) and Aflalo (F. G.).= + +THE SEA AND THE ROD. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + + +=Paterson (Arthur).= + +A PARTNER FROM WEST. A Novel. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Payton (E. W.).= + +ROUND ABOUT NEW ZEALAND. Being Notes from a Journal of Three Years' +Wandering in the Antipodes. With Twenty Original Illustrations by the +Author. Large crown 8vo, 12s. + + +=Pierce (Gilbert).= + +THE DICKENS DICTIONARY. A Key to the Characters and Principal Incidents +in the Tales of Charles Dickens. New Edition, uniform with the "Crown" +Edition of Dickens's Works. Large crown, 5s. + + +=Perrot (Georges) and Chipiez (Chas.).= + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN GREECE. With about 500 Illustrations, 2 +vols. [_In the Press._ + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PERSIA. With 254 Illustrations and 12 Steel +and Coloured Plates. Imperial 8vo, 21s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHRYGIA--LYDIA, CARIA, and LYCIA. With 280 +Illustrations. Imperial 8vo, 15s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN SARDINIA, JUDÆA, SYRIA, AND ASIA MINOR. With +395 Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 36s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHŒNICIA AND ITS DEPENDENCIES. With 654 +Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 42s. + +A HISTORY OF ART IN CHALDÆA AND ASSYRIA. With 452 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s. + +A HISTORY OF ART IN ANCIENT EGYPT. With 600 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s. + + +=Pollen (J. H.).= + +GOLD AND SILVER SMITH'S WORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +ANCIENT AND MODERN FURNITURE AND WOODWORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Pollok (Colonel)=, _Author of "Sport in British Burma_." + +INCIDENTS OF FOREIGN SPORT AND TRAVEL. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo. +[_In the Press._ + + +=Poole (Stanley Lane), B.A., M.R.A.S.= + +THE ART OF THE SARACENS IN EGYPT. Published for the Committee of Council +on Education. With 108 Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Poynter (E. J.), R.A.= + +TEN LECTURES ON ART. Third Edition. Large crown 8vo, 9s. + + +=Pratt (Robert).= + +SCIOGRAPHY, OR PARALLEL AND RADIAL PROJECTION OF SHADOWS. Being a Course +of Exercises for the use of Students in Architectural and Engineering +Drawing, and for Candidates preparing for the Examinations in this +subject and in Third Grade Perspective. Oblong quarto, 7s. 6d. + + +=Pushkin (A. S.).= + +QUEEN OF SPADES, THE, and OTHER STORIES. With a Biography. Translated +from the Russian by MRS. SUTHERLAND EDWARDS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d. + + +=Rae (W. Fraser).= + +AUSTRIAN HEALTH RESORTS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. A New and Enlarged Edition. +Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=RAPHAEL=; his Life, Works, and Times. By EUGENE MUNTZ. Illustrated with +about 200 Engravings. A New Edition, revised from the Second French +Edition. By W. ARMSTRONG, B.A. Imperial 8vo, 25s. + + +=Redgrave (Gilbert).= + +OUTLINES OF HISTORIC ORNAMENT. Translated from the German. Edited by +GILBERT REDGRAVE. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Redgrave (Richard), R.A.= + +MANUAL OF DESIGN. With Woodcuts. 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Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d.; in boards, 2s. + + +=Robson (George).= + +ELEMENTARY BUILDING CONSTRUCTION. Illustrated by a Design for an +Entrance Lodge and Gate. 15 Plates. Oblong folio, sewed, 8s. + + +=Rock (The Very Rev. Canon), D.D.= + +TEXTILE FABRICS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. + + +=Roosevelt (Blanche).= + +ELIZABETH OF ROUMANIA. A Study. With Two Tales from the German of Carmen +Sylva, Her Majesty Queen of Roumania. With Two Portraits and +Illustration. Demy 8vo, 12s. + + +=Ross (Mrs. Janet).= + +EARLY DAYS RECALLED. With Illustrations and Portrait. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Russan (Ashmore) and Boyle (Fredk.).= + +THE ORCHID SEEKERS: a Story of Adventure in Borneo. Illustrated by +ALFRED HARTLEY. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Russell (W. Clark)=, _and other Writers_. + +MISS PARSON'S ADVENTURE, and OTHER STORIES by W. E. NORRIS, JULIAN +HAWTHORNE, MRS. L. B. WALFORD, J. M. BARRIE, F. C. PHILIPS, MRS. +ALEXANDER, and WILLIAM WESTALL. With 16 Illustrations. 1 vol. 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With Eight Illustrations by F. +Walker and Marcus Stone. + +=A Child's History of England.= With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Great Expectations.= With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Tale of Two Cities.= With Sixteen Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Uncommercial Traveller.= With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Our Mutual Friend.= With Forty Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Edwin Drood= and =Other Stories=. With Twelve Illustrations by Luke Fildes. + + +=THE ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION.= + +Complete in 30 vols., with the Original Illustrations, demy 8vo, 10s. +each; or Sets, £15. + +=LIBRARY EDITION.= + +Complete in 30 vols., with the Original Illustrations, post 8vo, 8s. +each; or Sets, £12. + +=THE "CHARLES DICKENS" EDITION.= + +In crown 8vo, in 21 vols., cloth, with Illustrations, £3 16s. + +=THE CABINET EDITION.= + +In 32 vols., small fcap. 8vo, marble paper sides, cloth backs, with +uncut edges, 1s. 6d. each. 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Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. and 6s. each. + + +=One of Our Conquerors.= + +=Diana of the Crossways.= + +=Evan Harrington.= + +=The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.= + +=The Adventures of Harry Richmond.= + +=Sandra Belloni.= + +=Vittoria.= + +=Rhoda Fleming.= + +=Beauchamp's Career.= + +=The Egoist.= + +=The Shaving of Shagpat=; and =Farina=. + + +F. M. EVANS AND CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, CRYSTAL PALACE, S.E. + + + +Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected. + +In Part I, Chapter I, "that Jokäi alludes to" was changed to "that Jókai +alludes to". + +In Chapter II, "the hinds see to their cattle" was changed to "the hands +see to their cattle". + +In Chapter III, "write his letter in own way" was changed to "write his +letter in his own way". + +In Chapter VII, a quotation mark was added after "on some one else's +shoulders." + +In Chapter VIII, "Arzael laughs aloud" was changed to "Azrael laughs +aloud". + +In Part II, Chapter II, "Behind the iconastastis" was changed to "Behind +the iconastasis". + +In Chapter III, "horses with flesh-cloured manes" was changed to "horses +with flesh-coloured manes". + +In Chapter VII, "the security of the whole realm are at stake" was +changed to "the security of the whole realm is at stake". + +In Chapter IX, "called away to Sombyo" was changed to "called away to +Somlyo", and "her husband from Sombyo" was changed to "her husband from +Somlyo". + +In the advertisements, numerous minor punctuation and spelling errors +were corrected, "Freicherr von Loudon" was changed to "Freiherr von +Loudon", and "BELUCHISTAN" was changed to "BALUCHISTAN". + +There are numerous cases of inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation +in the original text. Except as noted above, these inconsistencies have +been retained. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's 'Midst the Wild Carpathians, by Mór Jókai + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + +***** This file should be named 37339-0.txt or 37339-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/3/3/37339/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/37339-0.zip b/37339-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..be34bae --- /dev/null +++ b/37339-0.zip diff --git a/37339-8.txt b/37339-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..20554d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/37339-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14054 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Midst the Wild Carpathians, by Mr Jkai + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Midst the Wild Carpathians + +Author: Mr Jkai + +Translator: R. Nisbet Bain + +Release Date: September 7, 2011 [EBook #37339] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + +[Illustration: cover of 'Midst the Wild Carpathians by Dr. Jkai Mr] + + + + +'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS + +("AZ RDLY ARNY KRA") + +BY MAURUS JKAI + +TRANSLATED BY R. NISBET BAIN FROM THE FIRST HUNGARIAN EDITION + +Authorised Version + +LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, LD. +1894 +[All rights reserved] + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, +LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +Hungarians regard _Az rdly arny kora_ as, on the whole, the best of +Jokai's great historical romances, and, to judge from the numerous +existing versions of it, foreigners are of the same opinion as +Hungarians. Few of Jokai's other tales have been translated so often, +and the book is as great a favourite in Poland as it is in Germany. And +certainly it fully deserves its great reputation, for it displays to the +best advantage the author's three characteristic qualities--his powers +of description, especially of nature, his dramatic intensity, and his +peculiar humour. + +The scene of the story is laid among the virgin forests and inaccessible +mountains of seventeenth-century Transylvania, where a proud and valiant +feudal nobility still maintained a precarious independence long after +the parent state of Hungary had become a Turkish province. We are +transported into a semi-heroic, semi-barbarous borderland between the +Past and the Present, where Medivalism has found a last retreat, and +the civilizations of the East and West contend or coalesce. Bizarre, +gorgeous, and picturesque forms flit before us--rude feudal magnates and +refined Machiavellian intriguers; superb Turkish pashas and ferocious +Moorish bandits; noble, high-minded ladies and tigrish odalisks; +saturnine Hungarian heydukes, superstitious Wallachian peasants, savage +Szeklers, and scarcely human Tartars. The plot too is in keeping with +the vivid colouring and magnificent scenery of the story. The whole +history of Transylvania, indeed, reads like a chapter from the _Arabian +Nights_, but there are no more dramatic episodes in that history than +those on which this novel is based--the sudden elevation of a country +squire (Michael Apafi) to the throne of Transylvania against his will by +order of the Padishah, and the dark conspiracy whereby Denis Banfi, the +last of the great Transylvanian magnates, was so foully done to death. + +In none of Jokai's other novels, moreover, is the individuality of the +characters so distinct and consistent. The gluttonous Kemeny, who +sacrificed a kingdom for a dinner; the well-meaning, easy-going Apafi, +who would have made a model squire, but was irretrievably ruined by a +princely diadem; his consort, the wise and generous Anna, always at hand +to stop her husband from committing follies, or to save him from their +consequences; the crafty Teleki, the Richelieu of Transylvania, with +wide views and lofty aims, but sticking at nothing to compass his ends; +his rival Banfi, rough, masterful, recklessly selfish, yet a patriot at +heart, with a vein of true nobility running through his coarser nature; +his tender and sensitive wife, clinging desperately to a brutal husband, +who learnt her worth too late; the time-serving Csaky, as mean a rascal +as ever truckled to the great or trampled on the fallen; Ali Pasha and +Corsar Beg, excellent types of the official and the unofficial Turkish +freebooter respectively; Kucsuk Pasha, the chivalrous Mussulman with a +conscience above his creed; the renegade spy Zlfikar, groping in +slippery places after illicit gains, and always falling on his feet with +cat-like agility; and, last of all, that marvellous creation, Azrael, +the demoniacal Turkish odalisk, blasting all who fall within the +influence of her irresistible glamour, a Circe as sinuously beautiful +and as utterly soulless as her own pet panther--all these personages of +a, happily, by-gone age are depicted as vividly as if the author had +known each one of them personally. + +Finally, the book contains some of Jokai's happiest descriptions, and in +this department it is generally admitted that the master, at his best, +is unsurpassable. The description of the burning coal-mine in _Fekete +Gyemantok_, of the Neva floods in _A szabadsg a h alatt_, of the +plague in _Szomoru napok_, or of the Danube in all its varying moods in +_Az arny ember_, stand alone in modern fiction; yet can any of these +vivid tableaux compare with the wonderful account of Corsar Beg's arial +fairy palace, poised on the top of the savage Carpathians, or with the +glowing picture of the gorgeous harem of Azrael, or with the fantastic +scenery of the Devil's Garden, with its ice-built corridors, snow +bridges, boiling streams, fathomless lakes, and rushing avalanches? + +R.N.B. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I. + + BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH. + + CHAP. PAGE + I. A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666 1 + II. THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA 18 + III. A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE 27 + IV. A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA 37 + V. BODOLA 45 + VI. THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZLLS 57 + VII. THE PRINCESS 70 + VIII. THE PERI 85 + IX. THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER 105 + + + BOOK II. + + THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. + + I. THE PATROL 125 + II. SANGE MOARTE 135 + III. AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 155 + IV. THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE 173 + V. THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL 189 + VI. THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVR 197 + VII. THE JUS LIGATUM 210 + VIII. DEATH FOR A KISS 218 + IX. CONSORT AND CONCUBINE 228 + X. THE SENTENCE 257 + + + + +'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS. + + + + +BOOK I. + +BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666. + + +Before us lies the valley of the Drave, one of those endless +wildernesses where even the wild beast loses its way. Forests +everywhere, maples and aspens a thousand years old, with their roots +under water; magnificent morasses the surface of which is covered, not +with reeds and water-lilies, but with gigantic trees, from the dependent +branches of which the vivifying waters force fresh roots. Here the swan +builds her nest; here too dwell the royal heron, the blind crow, the +golden plover, and other man-shunning animals which are rarely if ever +seen in more habitable regions. + +Here and there on little mounds, left bare during the long summer +drought by the receding waters, sprout strange and gorgeous flowers, +such perhaps as the earth has not brought forth since the Flood +overwhelmed her. In this slimy soil every blade of grass shoots up like +gigantic broom; the funnel-shaped convolvuluses and the evergreen +ground-ivy put forth tendrils as stout and as strong as vine branches, +which, stretching from tree to tree, twine round their stems and hang +flowery garlands about the dark, sombre maples, just as if some +hamadryad had crowned the grove dedicated to her. + +But it is only when evening descends that this realm of waters begins to +show signs of life. Whole swarms of water-fowl then mount into the air, +whose rueful, monotonous croaking is only broken by the melancholy +piping of the bittern and the whistle of the green turtle. The swan, +too, raises her voice and sings that melodious lay which now, they tell +us, is only to be heard in fairy-land,--for here man has never yet trod, +the place is still God's. + +Now and again, indeed, sportsmen of the bolder sort presume to penetrate +far into this pathless labyrinth of bush and brake; but they are forced +to wind their way among the trees in canoes which may at any moment be +upset by the twisted tangle of roots stretching far and wide beneath the +water, and it is just in these very places that the swamp is many +fathoms deep; for although the dark green lake-grass and the yellow +marsh-flowers, with the little black-and-red efts and newts darting +about among them, seem close enough to be reached by an outstretched +hand, they are nevertheless all under water deep enough to go over the +head of the tallest man. + +In other places it is the dense thicket which bars the canoe's way. +Fallen trees, the spoil of many centuries, but untouched by the hand of +man, lie rotting there in gigantic heaps. The submerged trunks have been +turned to stone by the water, and the roots of the lake-grass, the +filaments of the flax-plant, and the tendrils of the clematis have grown +together over them, forming a strong, tough barrier just above the water +which rocks and sways without giving way beneath one's feet. The knotty +clout-like film of the lake, stretching far and wide, seems, to the +careless eye, a continuation of this barrier, but the treacherous +surface no longer bears--one step further, and Death is there. This +unknown, unexplored region has however but few visitors. + +Southwards, the wilderness is bounded by the river Drave. The trees +which line its steep banks dip over into its waves. Not unfrequently the +fierce stream sweeps them into its bed and away, to the great peril of +all who sail or row upon its waters. + +Northwards, the forest extends as far as Csakatorny, and where the +morass ends oaks and beeches of all sorts flourish. In no other part of +Hungary will you meet with trees so erect and so lofty. The wide waste +abounds with all sorts of game. The wild boars, which wallow in the +swampy ground there, are the largest and fiercest of their kind. The red +deer too is no stranger there, and huge, powerful, and courageous you +will find him; nay, at that time, even gigantic elks showed themselves +occasionally, and made nocturnal incursions into the neighbouring +millet-fields of Totovecz; but at the first attempt to lay hands upon +them, they would throw themselves into the innermost swamps, whither it +was impossible to follow them.... + +On one of the brightest days of the year in which our story begins, a +numerous hunting-party was bustling about an old-fashioned hunting-box +which then stood on the borders of the forest. + +The first rays of the sun had scarcely pierced through the thick +foliage, when the grooms and kennel-keepers led out the hunters by their +bridles and the hounds in leashes, which sprang yelping up to the +shoulders of their keepers in joyful anticipation of the coming sport. +The huge store-wagons, each drawn by from six to ten oxen, have already +gone on before to fixed rallying-places, whither all the quarry is to be +carried. The villagers for miles round have been enlisted as beaters, +and stand together in picturesque groups armed with axes, pitch-forks, +and occasional muskets. A few smaller groups have been posted at regular +intervals along the wood, with canoes made from the trunks of trees. +Their duty is to scare the game back from the swamp, should it turn +thither for refuge. Every man, every beast shows signs of that +precipitancy, that ardour, that restlessness by which the true huntsman +is always distinguishable; only a few of the older hands find time to +sit by the fire and roast slices of bacon with perfect equanimity. + +At last comes the signal for departure, the blast of a horn from the +porch of the hunting-box; the retinue spring shouting upon their +snorting horses; the unruly, barking pack drag the kennel-men hither and +thither; the huntsmen wind up their heavy shooting muskets, and every +one stands in eager expectation of their lord and his noble guests. + +They have not long to wait. A cavalcade, with a few attendant pages, +descends the hill. Foremost rides a tall, muscular man--the lord of the +manor--the rest, as if involuntarily, linger some little way behind him. +His broad shoulders and superbly-arched chest indicate herculean +strength; his sun-burnt features are wonderfully well preserved, not a +wrinkle is to be seen on them; his short clipped beard and his shaggy +moustache, which is twisted sharply upwards, give his face a martial +expression, and his very pronounced aquiline nose and coal-black, bushy +eyebrows lend him a haughty, dictatorial air; while the dreamy cut of +his lips, his mild, oval, blue eyes and high, smooth forehead throw a +poetic shimmer over his peculiarly chivalrous countenance. A round, +unembroidered hat, surmounted by an eagle's plume, covers his +closely-cropped hair; his upper garment is a simple green, shaggy +jacket, which he wears open, thus allowing you a glance at his +under-garment, a white buckskin dolman,[1] trimmed with silver braid. By +his side hangs a broad scimitar in an ivory sheath, and the +mother-of-pearl handle of a crooked Turkish dagger peeps forth from a +scarlet girdle richly set with precious stones. + + [Footnote 1: _Dolman._ An Hungarian pelisse. A more + magnificent kind, worn only on state occasions, is + called the _attila_.] + +The pair which ride immediately behind him consists of a young cavalier +and a young Amazon. The cavalier can scarcely have counted more than +two-and-twenty summers, the lady seems even younger. A better-assorted +couple you could find nowhere. + +The youth has smiling, gentle, pallid features; rich chestnut-brown +locks fall over his shoulders; a slight moustache just shades his upper +lip; an eternal smile, nonchalance, not to say levity, are mirrored in +his bright blue eyes; but for his brawny arms and his stalwart frame, +the iron muscles of which protrude at the slightest movement through his +tight-fitting dolman, you might take him for a child. His head is +covered by a kalpag[2] of marten skin with a heron's plume in it; his +dress is of heavy twisted silk stuff; down from his shoulders hangs a +splendid tiger's skin, the claws meeting together round his neck in a +gorgeous sapphire agraffe. He rides a pitch-black Turkish stallion, +whose shabrack, richly embroidered with golden butterflies, is plainly +the work of a gentle lady's hand. + + [Footnote 2: _Kalpag_ or _Calpak_. A tall, skin cap of + Tartar origin, part of the Hungarian national costume.] + +The Amazon, over whom the youth bends from time to time (doubtless to +whisper some sweet compliment in her ear), is his very antithesis, and +perhaps for that very reason tallies so well with him. + +Hers is an earnest, dauntless, energetic countenance; her eyes are +brighter than garnets; she loves to pout a little and arch her bushy but +delicate eyebrows, which lend a proud expression to her features, and +when she raises her flashing eyes and her coral-red lips expand into a +peculiar enthusiastic smile, a heroine stands before you whose head, +heart, and arm are as strong as any man's. Her jasper-black, braided +locks, which fall half-way down her shoulders, are surmounted by an +ermine kalpag, from the top of which waves a gorgeous plume of +bird-of-paradise feathers. A light, lilac robe, meet for an Amazon, +clings tightly to her slim waist, and sweeps down in ample, majestic +folds over the flanks of her rose-white Arab. This robe is unbuttoned in +front, so as to leave free her heaving bosom, which is covered right up +to the neck with lace frills. Her short sleeves, richly trimmed with +batiste, are fastened by intertwining gold cords. Over her left foot, +which rests upon the stirrup, the long robe is thrown carelessly back, +presenting us with a glimpse of her white satin, padded petticoat, and +one of her little feet in its red morocco shoe. Her snow-white arms are +half protected by silk embroidered buckskin gloves, which do not quite +conceal the velvety skin, and the play of the well-developed muscles. +Both form and face rather demand our homage than our love. A smile +rarely rests on those features; the glance of her large, dark, sea-deep +eyes rests from time to time upon the youth who is bending over her, and +then there beams from them such witchery, such tenderness--yet all the +while her face is without a smile. A loftier, nobler longing is then +visible on her face, a longing deeper than love, higher than the desire +of fame--perhaps it is that self-consciousness of great souls who +foresee that their names will be an eternal remembrance. + +Behind the loving pair, ride side by side two cavaliers who, to judge +from their dress, belong to the higher nobility. One of them is a man of +about thirty, with a long, glistening black beard; he sits upon a +full-blood Barbary charger, with a white star upon its forehead; the +other is a sallow man advanced in years, whose long, light moustache is +already touched with grey; an astrachan cap covers his high, bald, +wrinkled forehead; his beard is carefully clipped, and his dress almost +ostentatiously simple. No lace adorns his jacket, no fringe of any sort +sets off the caparison of his good steed; his neckerchief, which peeps +out of his dolman, might almost be considered shabby. + +This man does not appear to stand very high in the estimation of his +companion, and marks of annoyance at the neglect he suffers are plainly +visible on his shrewd, not to say crafty, features. The reader would do +well to study this man's face, for we shall often meet with him. Cold, +withered features, thin fair hair and beard speckled with grey; a +pointed, double chin; disdainful, contracted lips; keen and lively, +red-rimmed, sea-green eyes; projecting eyebrows; a lofty, bald, shining +forehead which, beneath the play of his emotions, becomes furrowed with +wrinkles in all directions. This face we must not forget; the +others--the herculean horseman, the laughing youth, the stately +Amazon--will only flit across our path and disappear; but he will +accompany us all through our story, pulling down and building up +wherever he appears, and holding in his hands the destinies of great men +and great nations. + +The bald-pate drew nearer to the cavalier trotting by his side, who was +balancing his spear in one hand as if to test it, and said to him in a +low tone, as if continuing a conversation already begun-- + +"So you will not interfere in the matter?" + +"Pray don't trouble me with politics now," replied the other, with a +gesture of angry impatience. "You cannot live a day without planning or +plotting; but pray spare me for to-day! I want to hunt now, and you know +how passionately I love the chase." + +With these words he gave his horse the spur, galloped forward, and +caught up the herculean horseman. + +The other bit his lips angrily at this roughish flout, but immediately +turned with a smile towards the youthful cavalier ambling in front of +him. + +"A splendid morning, my lord! Would that our horizon were only as serene +in every direction!" + +"It is indeed," returned the youth, without exactly knowing what he was +saying, whilst his heroine bent over him with a darkening face, and +whispered-- + +"I don't know how it is, but I am always suspicious of that man. He is +continually asking questions, but never answers any himself." + +At this moment the stately cavalier reached the hunting-party, returned +their boisterous greetings, and halted close to them. + +"David!" cried he to an old grey-bearded huntsman, who at once stepped +forth, cap in hand. + +"Put on your cap! Have the beaters taken their places?" + +"Every one is in his place, my lord! I have also sent canoes into the +swamp to scare back the game." + +"Bravo, David! you know your business. And now set off with the dogs and +the huntsmen, and strike into the path which we usually take. Our little +company will be sufficient for my purpose. We mean to cut our way +straight through the forest." + +A murmur of surprise and incredulity began to spread among the huntsmen. + +"Your pardon, gracious sir!" returned the old huntsman, who now took off +his cap a second time, "but I know that way, and it is no good way for a +god-fearing man. The impenetrable thicket, the bottomless waters, the +sticky slime present a thousand dangers, and then there is the wide +Devil's-dyke which goes right across the forest: no horse or horseman +has ever leaped that dyke." + +"We at any rate, my worthy old fellow, will go for it; we have done +worse bits than that ere now. He who follows me will not come to grief; +don't you know that I am Fortune's favourite?" + +The old huntsman donned his plumed cap, and set out on his way with the +others. + +But now the bald-pate rode up to the hero's side. + +"My lord!" remarked he calmly, but not without a touch of sarcasm, "I +hold it a great blunder for a man to jeopardize his life for nothing, +especially when he may turn it to good account. I know indeed that say +and do are one with your lordship; but pray be so good as to cast a +glance around, and you will perceive that we are not all men here; one +of that sex is among us whom it were cruelty to expose to certain peril +for the mere love of adventure." + +During this speech, the hero gazed fixedly, not at the speaker but at +the Amazon, and the fiery pride on his cheeks flamed up still higher +when he saw how contemptuously the stately girl measured her unsolicited +advocate from head to foot, and with what haughty self-confidence she +chose a dart, adorned with ostrich feathers, from a bundle carried by a +page, and then like a defiant matador planted the shaft firmly upon her +saddle-bow. + +"Look at her, now!" cried the hero. "Is that the girl you are so fearful +about? I tell you, sir, she is my niece!" + +The hero's exalted words rang far and wide through the forest like a +peal of bells. There was, at that time, no voice in Hungary like his; so +thunderous, so deep, and yet so melodious and penetrating. + +The Amazon permitted the cavalier who had called her his niece to +embrace her slim waist; she even allowed him to kiss her rosy red +cheeks: in those days an Hungarian girl used to blush even when the kiss +came from a kinsman's lips. + +"Not in vain does my blood flow in her veins! Ha, ha! For valour I'll +match her with the best of men. Have no fear for her! The time is coming +when she will face greater perils than any of to-day, and still hold her +own."[3] + + [Footnote 3: The Amazon was Helen Zrinyi. She married + first the young cavalier with whom we now meet her, + Francis Rakoczy, and subsequently the famous Emerich + Tkly, whose acquaintance we shall make presently. Her + spirited defence of the fortress of Mohacz, 1689, + against the Emperor is well known.] + +After these prophetic words, the rider pressed his spurs into his +horse's sides; the wounded beast plunged and reared, but the pressure of +a knee as hard as steel quickly brought it to reason. + +"Follow me!" cried he, and the picturesque little group dashed after him +into the depths of the forest. + +Let us anticipate them. Let us go whither the stag rests at noonday in +the shady groves, whither the heron bathes and the turtle basks in the +sun. + +What habitations are these which rise up before us, built upon piles, in +groups of five and six, between the waters and the wilderness, little +huts carved out of the stumps of trees with round, clay-plastered, +red-thatched roofs? Who has built that dam there, so that the water may +never fall too far below the thresholds of those tiny houses? Here dwell +the diligent beavers whom Nature herself has taught the art of building. +This is their colony. 'Tis they who have gnawed through the thick trees +with their teeth; they who have brought those logs hither; they who have +thrown up a bank to make a dam, and watch over its safety all the year +round. Look there! One of them has just glided out of the lowest storey +of his dwelling, which is under the water. With what mild and gentle +eyes he looks around him! He has never yet seen man! + +Let us go on further. In the shadow of an old hollow tree rests a family +of stags. A buck and a doe with her two little fawns. + +The buck has come forward into the sunlight; his stately form seems to +give him pleasure; he licks his smooth, shiny coat again and again; +softly scratches his back with his branching antlers, and struts about +with a proud, self-confident air, daintily raising his slender legs from +time to time: the undulating movements of his slim and supple form show +off to the best advantage the play of his elastic muscles. + +The doe lies lazily in the rank grass. From time to time she raises her +beautiful head, and looks with her large black eyes so feelingly, so +lovingly at her companion or at her sportive little ones, and if she +perceives they have strayed too far, she utters an uneasy, plaintive +sort of whine, whereupon the little creatures come bounding back to her +helter-skelter, frisking and gambolling about their dam; they cannot +keep still for a moment, all their limbs quiver and shake, and all their +movements are so graceful, so lively, and so lovely. + +Suddenly the buck stands motionless and utters a low cry. He scents +danger and raises his nose on high; his distended nostrils sniff the air +in every direction; he scratches up the ground uneasily with his feet; +runs round and round in a narrow circle with lowered head, and shakes +his antlers threateningly. Once more he stands perfectly still. His +protruding eyes betoken the terror which instinctively seizes him. All +at once he rushes towards his companion; with an indescribable sort of +gentle whine they rub noses together; they too have their language in +which they can understand each other. The two fawns instantly fly in +terror to their mother's side; their tender little limbs are trembling +all over. Then the buck disappears into the forest, but so warily that +the sound of his footsteps is scarcely audible. The doe however remains +in her place, licking her terrified young (which return these maternal +caresses with their little red tongues), and hastily raising her head +and pricking up her ears at the slightest sound. + +Suddenly she springs up. She has heard something which no human ear +could have distinguished. In the far, far distance the forest rings with +a peculiar sound. That sound is familiar to huntsmen. The hounds are now +on the track. The beating-up has begun. The doe throws uneasy glances +around her, but ends by quickly lying down in her place again. She knows +that her companion will return, and that she must wait for him. + +The chase draws nearer and nearer. Presently the buck comes noiselessly +back, and turns with a peculiar kind of squeak towards his mate, who +immediately springs up and scuds away with her young ones obliquely +across the line of the beaters. The buck remains behind a little while +longer, and tears up the ground with his antlers, either from fury, or +on purpose to efface all traces of his mate's lair. Then he stretches +out his neck and begins to yelp loudly, imitating the barking of the +hounds, so as to put them on a wrong track, a stratagem which, as old +hunters will tell you, is often practised by the more cunning sort of +stags. Then, throwing back his antlers, he disappears in the direction +taken by his mate. + +Nearer and nearer come the beaters. The crackling of the down-trodden +brushwood and the shouts of the armed men mingle with the barking of the +dogs. The forest suddenly teems with life. Startled by the cries of the +pursuers, scores and scores of hares and foxes dart away among the trees +in every direction. Sometimes a panting fox makes for an open hole, but +bounds back terrified before the fiery eyes of the badger which inhabits +it. Here and there a grey-streaked wolf skulks along among the +scampering hares, standing still, from time to time, with his tail +between his legs, to look round for some place of refuge, and then, as +the pursuing voices come nearer, running off again with a dismal howl. + +And yet no one pursues these animals; the huntsmen are after a greater, +a nobler prey, a stag with mighty antlers. The beaters draw nearer and +nearer; the dogs are already on the track; the blast of a horn indicates +that they are hard upon the stag. + +"Hurrah, hurrah!" resounds from afar. The beaters, advancing from +different directions, halt and fall into their places, completely +barring the way. The din of the hunt approaches rapidly. + +Shortly afterwards, a peculiar rustling noise is heard. The hunted +stags, with their young ones, break through the thicket and disappear. A +broad chasm lies between them and the beaters. Quick as lightning, both +the noble beasts bound over the fallen tree-stumps which lie in the way, +and reach the chasm. The pursuit is both before and behind, but the +danger is greatest from behind, for there the herculean hero, the bold +Amazon, and the ardent Transylvanian huntsman head the chase. The buck +leaps across the broad chasm without the slightest effort, raising both +feet at the same time and throwing back his head; the doe also prepares +for the leap, but her young ones shrink back in terror from the dizzy +abyss. At this the poor doe collapses altogether; her knees give way +beneath her, and bowing her head she remains beside her young. A dart, +hurled by the Transylvanian huntsman, pierces the animal's side. The +wounded beast utters a piteous cry, resembling the moan of a human +being, but much more horrible. Even her slayer, moved by sudden +compassion, forbears to touch her till she has ceased to suffer. + +The two kids remain standing mournfully beside their dead dam, and allow +themselves to be taken alive. + +Meanwhile, the flying buck, shaking his heavy antlers with frenzied +rage, rushes with bloodshot eyes upon the beaters who bar his way. The +beaters, well knowing what this generally mild and timid beast is +capable of in his valiant despair, throw themselves with one accord to +the ground so as to allow him a free passage. A few of the dogs, indeed, +go at him; but the now furious animal gores them with his antlers, hurls +them bleeding to the ground, and then dashes off towards the swamps. + +"After him!" roars the hero, in a voice of thunder, and he urges his +horse towards the chasm over which the stag has just flown. + +"Help, Jesu!" cry the terrified beaters on the opposite side; but the +next moment their terror is changed to boisterous joy; the horse with +his bold rider has come safely across. + +Of the whole of his suite only two dared to imitate him, the stately +Amazon and the gentle stripling. Both horses flew over the abyss at the +same moment; the lady's long velvet robe flapped the air like a banner +during the leap, and she threw a proud look behind her as if to inquire +whether any man was bold enough to follow her. + +Their suite thought it just as well not to risk their necks over such a +piece of foolhardiness. Only the young Transylvanian made a dash at the +chasm, although, as his horse had already injured one of its hind legs +in the forest, he might have been quite sure that it was unequal to such +an effort. Fortunately for him, just before the leap his saddle-girth +burst and he was pitched across the chasm, just managing to scramble up +the bank on the other side. His good steed, less fortunate, was only +able to reach the opposite margin with its front feet; and after a wild +and hopeless struggle, fell crashing back into the abyss below. + +The three riders alone pursued the flying stag, which, now that he had +got clear away, drew his pursuers after him into the marsh-lands. The +hero was close upon his heels; the Amazon and her cavalier trotted a +little on one side, for the forest was very dense here, and prevented +them from going forward abreast. At last the stag forced his way into +the thick reed-grown fens and took to the water, with the hero still in +hot pursuit. The youthful riders were also on the point of plunging +among the reeds, when two hideous, black monsters, fiercely snorting, +suddenly confronted them. They had fallen foul of a brood of wild swine. +The loathsome beasts had been lying, deaf to everything around them, in +their bed of trampled reeds and slush, and only became aware of the +presence of strangers when the youth's horse, in bounding over them, +trampled to death a couple of the numerous litter that lay crouching by +the side of the sow. The rest of the speckled little pigs scattered +squeaking among the reeds, while the two old ones, savagely grunting, +advanced to the attack. The sow fell at once upon the slayer of her +little ones; but the boar remained, for a moment, on his haunches; his +bristles stood erect; he pricked up his ears, gnashed his tusks +together, then, wildly rolling his little bloodshot eyes, rushed at the +Amazon with a dull roar. + +The youth flung his javelin at the sow from afar with a steady hand. The +dart whirred through the air and then stuck fast, upright and quivering, +in the horny skull of the impetuous beast, the point piercing to the +very brain. The sow, not unlike a huge unicorn, ran forward a little +distance; but its eyes had lost their sight, and it staggered past the +rider only to fall down dead without a sound, a little distance off. + +The lady calmly awaited the furious boar. She held her dart with a +reversed grasp, point downwards, and drew tight her horse's reins. The +noble steed stood perfectly motionless, but he pointed his ears, threw a +sidelong glance at the boar, and at the very instant when the rabid +beast had passed beneath the horse's belly, and was about to rip it +asunder with a powerful upward heave of his gleaming tusks, the +well-trained charger suddenly reared and sprang over his assailant; at +the same instant the Amazon deftly stooped and hurled her dart deep +between the shoulder-blades of the wild boar. + +The mortally-wounded beast sank bellowing down into the long grass. Once +more he would have rushed upon the girl, but the youth sprang, quick as +light, from his horse, and gave him the _coup de grce_ with his dagger. + +At that moment the blast of a horn was heard in the distance. The hero +had brought down the stag. The other horsemen, who now overtook the +leaders of the chase (but only after making a wide circuit), welcomed +the hero of the day with loud cries of "Eljen!"[4] + + [Footnote 4: _Eljen!_ = Long live!] + +The herculean horseman was mud-stained from head to foot, nor did the +others look much better; only the Amazon's robe was spotless and untorn. +Even at such times a girl knows how to take care of her clothes! + +When the hero beheld the wild beast slain by his niece, which, as it lay +stretched out stark and stiff before him, looked even larger than +life-size, he was at first deeply affected, as if he now, for the first +time, fully recognized the greatness of the peril to which his darling +had been exposed, and he exclaimed, not without alarm--"My Nelly!" but +immediately afterwards he stretched out his hand towards her with a +smile, and gazed round triumphantly upon the bystanders. + +"Did I not say she had my blood in her veins?" + +Every one hastened to pay an appropriate compliment to the radiant +heroine, who appeared to experience, on this occasion, something of that +peculiar satisfaction which only belongs to the lucky huntsman. + +The hero again looked proudly around till his eye fell upon the young +Transylvanian, who was now sitting on a fresh horse. Him he at once +accosted, and pointing to the dead boar asked-- + +"Nicolas, my son! prithee tell me, does Transylvania produce such boars +as that?" + +Now, not to mention that the Transylvanian was already somewhat sore on +account of his recent mishap, it was not to be expected that he, a +Transylvanian born and bred, would for a single moment permit the +assumption that any natural product of Hungary was superior to the like +product of Transylvania to pass unchallenged, so he answered defiantly-- + +"Most certainly, and even finer ones." + +Nothing at that moment could have more mightily offended the questioner +than this curt answer. What! to tell an enthusiastic huntsman that he +will find elsewhere game even finer than what he has just been lauding +to the skies; game, too, which the darling of his heart has just slain! +It was simply outrageous. + +"Very well, my son, very well," growled the hero; "we shall see, we +shall see!" + +With obvious marks of annoyance on his face, he turned away from his +contradictor, and ordered that the quarry should be conveyed at once to +the hunting-box. Not another word did he exchange with any one but his +Nelly; but her he literally overwhelmed with compliments and caresses. + + * * * * * + +It was already late in the afternoon when the hunters sat them down to a +simple but tasty repast spread upon a huge and level grass-plot in the +midst of the wood. Wine and merry jests soon set everything right again; +they talked of everything at the same time, of war and the chase, of +beautiful dames, of poetry (a fashionable subject then amongst the +higher classes), and of the intrigues of courts; but even after all this +blithe discourse the hero could not quite forget his grievance, and +again he inquired impatiently-- + +"So there really is excellent sport in Transylvania?" + +The young Transylvanian began to feel this perpetual harping on the same +string a little tiresome. He had never meant to be taken so literally. +The bald-pate, remarking the growing tension, sought to change the +conversation, and raising his beaker proposed the following toast-- + +"God keep the Turks in a good humour." + +But the hero angrily overturned his glass. + +"God grant no such thing!" cried he savagely. "I'm not going to pray for +the goggle-eyed dogs now, after fighting against them all my days. The +man who is always trying to change masters is a fool." + +"Yet the Turk is a very gracious master to us," put in the young +Transylvanian, with an ambiguous smile. + +"Ha, ha! didn't I say so? With you, even Turks are bigger and finer than +they are with us. Of course! of course! In Transylvania everything +flourishes better than in Hungary: the boars are bigger, the Turks are +daintier, than they are in this part of the country." + +At this moment David, the old huntsman, approached the hero and +whispered something in his ear. The hero's features brightened as if by +magic, and springing from his seat he cried--"Give me my gun!" then, +holding his long, silver-mounted musket in his hand, he turned towards +his guests with a radiant countenance. "All of you stay here. There is a +colossal boar close at hand. You shall see him, my son," added he, +tapping Nicolas on the shoulder. "Twice already have I vainly pursued +the fellow; this time I mean to catch him. He is, I assure you, a +descendant in the flesh of the Calydonian boar"--and with that, carried +away by his enthusiasm, he hastened towards that part of the wood which +the old huntsman had pointed out to him. David he presently ordered +back: nobody was to accompany him. + +"I know not how it is," whispered Helen to the youth at her side, "but I +have a foreboding that my uncle is in danger. How I wish you were by his +side!" + +The youth said nothing in reply, but he instantly stood up and seized +his gun. + +"Pray don't go after him," remarked the Transylvanian, when he saw the +young man about to hasten off. "You will only enrage him. He wants to do +the whole business himself, and a man who has exterminated hordes of +Tartars can easily dispose of a single brute beast." + +And so they kept the youth back from going. The men went on drinking, +and the lady remained in a brown study, glancing uneasily, from time to +time, at the skirts of the wood. + +Suddenly a shot resounded through the forest. + +Every one put down his glass and glanced at his neighbour with a beating +heart. + +A few moments passed and then they heard the roar of a wild beast; but +it was not the well-known roar of a mortally-wounded boar--no, it was a +peculiar, gurgling, half-stifled sound that told of a fierce struggle. + +"What is that?" was the question which rose to every one's lips. "Surely +he would call out if he were in danger!" Then came a second shot. Every +one instantly sprang to his feet. "What was that?" they cried. "Oh! let +us go! let us go!" exclaimed the girl, trembling in every limb, and the +whole company hastened in the direction of the shot. + + * * * * * + +Our hero had scarcely advanced four or five hundred paces into the +thicket when, at the foot of a mighty oak, he came upon the wild beast +he sought. It was a gigantic boar, with span-long, glistening black +bristles on its back and forehead; the tough hide lay, like plated +armour, in thick folds about its huge neck; its feet were long and +sinewy. Lazily grunting, it was making for itself a bed beneath the +bushes in which its shapeless body was stretched out at full length, and +it had found a place for its enormous head by rooting out with its tusks +bushes as thick as a man's arm. + +On hearing approaching footsteps, the monster irritably raised its head, +opened wide its jaws, and cast a sidelong glance at its assailant. + +Our hero knelt upon one knee so as to take better aim, and fired at the +wild beast just as it suddenly raised its head, so that the bullet +pierced its neck instead of its skull, wounding it seriously but not +mortally. + +The wounded boar instantly sprang from its lair, and gnashing its +crooked tusks together so that sparks flew from them, rushed upon its +foe. It would not have been difficult to have avoided such a furious +attack by a skilful side-spring; but our hero was not the man to get out +of any opponent's way; so he threw his gun aside, tore his dagger from +its sheath, faced the savage beast, and dealt at its head a blow +sufficient to have cleaved it to the chine; but the tremendous blow fell +short upon one of the monster's tusks, and the dagger, coming into +contact with the stone-like bone, broke off short at the hilt. + +Half stunned by the shock, the boar only succeeded in grazing the hero's +leg, whereupon the latter seized the beast by both ears and a desperate +struggle began. Weaponless as he was, he grappled with the monster, +which, grunting and roaring, twisted its head about in every direction; +but the hero's iron grasp held fast the broad ears of the monster with +invincible force, and when the boar tried to overturn its assailant by +suddenly going down on its haunches, the hero, with a swift and +tremendous blow of his clenched fist, hurled it backwards, falling +himself indeed at the same time, but uppermost, and quickly recovering +his balance pressed down with his whole weight upon the boar (which +valiantly but vainly continued struggling against superior strength), +and triumphantly bestrided its huge paunch. + +The boar now appeared to be completely beaten; its glassily glaring eyes +were protruding, the blood streamed from its jaws and nostrils; it had +ceased to bellow, but a rattling sound came from its throat; its legs +writhed convulsively, its snout hung flabbily down; it was plain that it +could not hold out much longer. + +The hero had now only to call to his companions, who were close at hand, +but that would have been too humiliating; or to wait till the boar bled +to death, but that would have been too tiresome. Suddenly he recollected +that he had a Turkish knife in his girdle, and, meaning to put a speedy +end to the long tussle, he pressed down the boar's head with his knee +and felt for his knife with one hand. + +At that moment the report of a gun[5] resounded somewhere in the wood. +The down-trodden boar suddenly seemed to feel that the pressure of his +opponent's hands and knees was slackening, and rallying all his +remaining strength, threw off his assailant and dealt him one last blow +with his tusks, and that blow was fatal, for it ripped open the man's +throat. + + [Footnote 5: Some pretend that this shot was fired by a + secret assassin sent from Vienna. Many doubt whether a + shot was fired at all.] + + * * * * * + +His kinsmen and friends, hastening to the spot, found the hero in the +throes of death by the side of the dead boar. They rushed up with loud +lamentations, and bound up his throat with their kerchiefs. + +"It is nothing, my children; it is nothing!" he gasped, and expired. + +"Alas! poor warrior!" sighed those who stood around him. + +"Alas! my country!" sobbed Helen, raising her tearful eyes to heaven. + +The gala-day had become a day of mourning; the hunt a funeral. + +The guests sorrowfully followed the body of their best friend to +Csakatorny. Only the bald-head took the opposite direction. + +"Didn't I say that life was meant for other and better things?" murmured +he. "Well, well! the world is large, and men are many. I'll go a kingdom +further on." + + * * * * * + +Thus died Nicolas Zrinyi[6] the younger, his country's greatest poet and +bravest son. + + [Footnote 6: It is not without reason that Jkai + alludes to Zrinyi as "the hero." He was one of the + greatest warriors of his day (1618-1666), and his + victories over the Turks were many and brilliant. As a + poet he stands high, even judged by a modern standard. + His chief works are his great epic, _Szigeti + veszedelem_, and his religious poems, _Keresztre_, "On + the Cross!"] + +Thus died the man whom Fortune always respected, the darling, the +bulwark, the ornament of his fatherland. + +In vain will you now seek for his hunting-box or his castle. All has +perished--the name, the family, nay, the very remembrance of the hero. + +The general and the statesman are forgotten; only one part of him still +survives, only one part of him will live eternally--the poet. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA. + + +And now we too will go "a kingdom further on." + +Let us go one kingdom forward and four years backward. We are in +Transylvania; the year is 1662. + +A simple country-house stands before us, at the lower end of Ebesfalva, +being almost the last house in the place. Evidently the architect of +this edifice had rather an eye to usefulness than beauty, for each part +of it has a style of its own, and differs from every other part in +shape, size, and quality. On both sides stand stables, cow-houses, +wagon-sheds, fowl-houses, and high-gabled, straw-thatched sheepfolds. In +the rear lies an orchard, from which the pointed roof of a beehive peeps +forth, and in the middle of the courtyard stands the whitewashed +dwelling-house, surrounded by shady nut trees, beneath which stands a +round table improvised from a millstone. A stone wall separates the +courtyard from a thrashing-floor, in which we see incipient haycocks +piled up into hillocks, and enormous stacks of corn, on the topmost +point of the tallest of which an adventurous peacock shrieks exultantly. +It is evening; the herds are returning home; the oxen are being unyoked +from the huge, maize-laden wagons; the herds, jingling their bells, come +back from the pastures; the swine jostle one another in the narrow +gateway and rush grunting to their troughs; the cocks and hens are +squabbling in the large nut tree, where they have taken up their +quarters for the night; far away sounds the vesper bell, and further +still the song of the village beauty, on her way to the spring; the +hands see to their cattle: one carries a freshly-mown bundle of +millet-grass across the farmyard, another bends beneath the weight of a +huge pitcher, filled to overflowing with yellowish, fragrant, foaming +milk, fresh from the udder. Through the kitchen window is to be seen the +merry sparkle of a roaring fire, over which a girl with round, red +cheeks holds a large pan; the fragrant odour of the savoury mess spreads +far and wide. And now the meal is served on large, green platters; the +family take their places round the millstone table, and eat with a good +appetite, the white watch-dogs looking up respectfully all the while at +the hasty gobblers. Then the dishes are cleared away, and the maize is +shot out of the wagons beneath the projecting eaves. The peasant girls +come trooping in from the neighbouring villages to help to husk the +pods, and sit them down upon the odorous heaps. Some merry wag or other +scoops out a ripe pumpkin, carves eyes and a mouth in it, sticks a +burning light inside, and hangs it up by way of a lantern, and the girls +shriek and pretend to be terribly frightened. Then the more handy lads, +sitting on over-turned bread-baskets, plait long wreaths out of the +maize-husks; and while the tranquil toil proceeds, merry songs are sung +and fairy tales are told of golden-haired princesses and persecuted +orphans. Now and again the fun requires a kiss or two to keep it going, +and loud screams proclaim the daring deed to all the world. The little +children cry out for joy if they chance to find an occasional scarlet or +mottled maize knob among so many yellow ones. And there they sit and +tell tales, and sing and laugh at the merest nothings till all the maize +is husked, and then they wish one another good-night, and, chatting and +bawling, linger over a long, last good-bye; and then they go singing +aloud along their homeward way, partly from fun and partly from pure +light-heartedness. + +Then every one enters his house, shuts the door behind him, and puts out +the fire; the sheep-dogs hold long dialogues in the village streets; the +crescent moon rises; the night watchman begins to cry the hours in +long-drawn rhythm; the others sleep and do not hear his golden saws. +Only in one window of the manor-house a light is shining. There some one +still is up. + +The watchers are a grey-haired, venerable dame and a much younger +serving-maid. The old lady is reading from a worn-out psalter, every +line of which she already knows by heart; the serving-maid, as if not +content with a long day's work, has sat herself down to her distaff, and +draws long threads out of the silky flax which she heckled yesterday and +carded to-day. + +"Go to bed, Clara," said the old woman kindly, "it is enough if I remain +up. Besides, you have to rise early to-morrow morning." + +"I could not sleep till our mistress has returned," replied the girl, +continuing her work. "Even when all the men are in, I always feel so +frightened till she has come home, but when once she is here, I feel as +safe as if we were behind the walls of a fortress." + +"Quite right, my child; she is, indeed, worth many men. Shame upon it +that the cares and anxieties which it behoves a man to bear should rest +upon her shoulders! She has to look after the whole of this vast +household, and, as if that were not enough, she must needs farm the +estates of her sisters, the ladies Banfi and Teleki. How many lawsuits +must she not carry on with this neighbour and with that! But they've met +their match in her, I'll warrant. She appears in person before the +judges and pleads so shrewdly, that our best advocates might take +lessons from her. And then, too, when my Lord Banfi came capering hither +with his killing ways, some little time ago, fancying that our gracious +lady was one of your straw-widows, how she sent him away with a flea in +his ear! The worthy gentleman did not know whether he stood on his head +or his heels, and yet he is one of the chief men in the land! And +afterwards, too, when, out of revenge, he saddled us with that +freebooter of a captain and his lanzknechts, don't you recollect how our +lady had them all flogged out of the village, and how the rascals took +to their heels when they saw our gracious mistress herself march out +against them, blunderbuss in hand?" + +"Would that they had not scampered off quite so quickly," interrupted +the girl, with a burst of enthusiasm. "I'd have laid the poker about +their ears, I warrant you." + +"Hark'e, Clara! when a woman has been forced to keep house alone for so +long a time, and to defend herself and family by the might of her own +arms, she comes at last to feel herself a man all over. That is why our +mistress looks as stern as if she had never been a girl." + +"But tell me, Aunt Magdalene," returned the girl, drawing her chair +nearer, "shall we never see master again?" + +"Alas! God only knows," replied the old dame, sighing. "How can I tell +when the poor fellow will be released from his captivity? I always had a +presentiment that it would come to this, and I said so, but no one +heeded me. It happened in this wise. In the days when our Prince +George[7] of blessed memory, not content with his own land, must needs +set out to conquer Poland at the head of the Hungarian chivalry, our +good master, Sir Michael, went with him. Oh, how I tried--and our lady +too--to keep him back. They were a newly-wedded couple then, and the +good gentleman himself had little heart for war--he always preferred to +sit at home among his books, his water-mills, and his fruit trees--but +honour called him and he went. I begged him to at least take my son Andy +with him. God gave me that thought, for otherwise we should never have +heard again of our gracious master, for when his Highness, our Sovereign +Prince George, beheld the bestial hordes of Tartars marching out against +him, he himself galloped off home, leaving his nobility captives in the +hands of the heathen, who dragged them off in fetters to Tartary. My son +Andy, who was of no use to them, for he was badly wounded in the thigh, +and therefore could not work, they sent home; he brought the tidings +that Sir Michael was sickening in sad confinement, and the Tartars, +perceiving how high he stood in the esteem of his fellow-prisoners, took +him for their prince, and set upon his head such a frightfully high +ransom, that all his property turned into gold could not have paid it +off. Nevertheless our noble lady rejoiced exceedingly when she heard +that her husband was still alive, and ran hither and thither and left no +stone unturned to raise the money. But neither her kind friends nor her +dear relations would lend her anything--no, not on the best security, +for no one willingly lends on land in time of war. So she sold her +treasures, her bridal dower which her mother had given her; all the +beautiful silver plate, jewelled bracelets, and embossed gold and pearl +ornaments which her ancestors had handed down to her; her large +satin-trimmed, fur-embroidered mantle and her filagreed _mente_[8]; her +rings, agraffes, and hairpins; her carbuncle bracelets and orient +pearls; her diamond ear-rings--in short, everything which could be +turned into money. Yet even all that came to not one-half of what the +Tartar demanded, so what does she do but farm the estates of her +sisters, plough up the fallow-lands, and cut down the forests to make +way for corn-fields. To find time for more work, she turned night into +day. No sort of husbandry whereby money could be made escaped her +attention. At one time she laid down clay-pits and dug out quarries, the +products of which found customers in the neighbourhood. At another time +she bred prize oxen and sold them to the Armenian herdsmen. She visited +all the markets in person; carried her wine as far as Poland, her corn +to Hermannstadt, her honey, wax, and preserved fruits to Kronstadt--nay, +in order to obtain a fair price for her wools, she crossed the border +and took them as far as Debreczin. And how frugally she fared all the +time! It is true she never stinted her servants in anything, but she +seemed to weigh every morsel that went into her own mouth. At harvest +time she would have nothing cooked for herself at home for weeks +together, so that she might remain in the fields all day. A piece of +bread which would have been too little for a child was all she ate, and +her drink was a bowl of spring water; yet, believe me, Clara, we never +once saw her in a bad humour, and never did a single bitter tear fall +upon the dry bread which her loyalty to her husband constrained her to +live upon." + + [Footnote 7: George Rakoczy I., Prince of Transylvania, + 1630-1648.] + + [Footnote 8: _Mente._ A fur pelisse.] + +"And why was all this?" + +"I'll tell you, my child. The money which she thus scraped together by +toil and frugality, year by year, is regularly sent by Andy to Tartary, +in part payment of Sir Michael's ransom. At such times our dear lady +grudges herself every morsel she puts into her mouth." + +The old nurse wiped the tears from her eyes. + +"And what then was the amount of the ransom?" + +"That's more than I can tell you, my daughter. Andy always brings back +the parchment on which the Tartar marks down the amount received and the +amount still due. Our noble lady keeps it herself. I, of course, never +ask any questions about it." + +The girl was silent and appeared to be reflecting; doubly quick the +spindle flew round in her hands, and her heart beat faster too. + +"My son Andy is there now," said the old dame, weary of the long +silence. "I expect him back every hour now; from him we shall hear +something certain." + +At that moment the gate outside creaked on its hinges, a little gig +rolled boisterously into the courtyard, and a joyful barking and yelping +told that an old acquaintance had arrived. + +"Our mistress has come," cried the two servants, rising from their +seats, and at the same moment the door opened and Anna Bornemissa, +Michael Apafi's wife, stepped in. + +A stately woman of almost masculine stature; the outline of her slim but +vigorous and muscular figure is plainly visible through her simple grey +linen dress. She cannot be more than thirty-six, but her face is of +those on which time leaves no trace until extreme old age. Her features +are deeply tanned by the sun, but the velvet down of well-preserved +youth and the natural ruddiness of perfect health lend a peculiar +loveliness to that extraordinary countenance. Her look surprises, +dominates, subdues; the charm which lies concealed there appears not so +much in the features as in the expression--her face is the mirror of a +noble soul. Not as if there was anything hard, rough, stiff, or +masculine in the features themselves: on the contrary. Her brow is +finely arched, delicately smooth, unobscured as yet by a single wrinkle, +and yet so full of majesty; her eyelashes are most exquisitely +pencilled; the shape of the eyes is enchanting, those large, not exactly +wild-black, but rather deep, bright, nut-brown eyes, half hidden by +their long eyelashes, and in those eyes there is so much fire, so much +sparkle, and yet so much coldness. The delicate nose, the oval face, +every feature is so femininely regular. Even the mouth when closed is so +sweet, so tender, the other features seem to use violence towards it to +prevent its smile from spreading further, and yet when it opens, how +haughty, how commanding it becomes. + +"What, still up?" cried she to her servants. + +The voice is pleasantly sonorous, although affliction has somewhat +deadened its lower notes. + +"We thought it best to stay up, in case your ladyship might be kept +waiting outside," replied the old woman, tripping round her mistress and +taking the heavy mantle from her shoulders. + +"Has not Andy yet returned?" asked Lady Apafi, in a low, melancholy +voice. + +"Not yet; but I expect him every moment." + +Lady Apafi sighed deeply. How much of stifled grief, vanishing hope, and +patient renunciation was concealed in that sigh! The recollection of the +manifold sufferings of her wretched life rose up before that heroic +woman's soul. She called to mind her brave struggle with fate, with her +fellow-men, and with her own heart; her love, grafted on pain, had +brought forth not gladness but ungratified longing. Another toilsome +year of her life had passed away. With the self-sacrificing industry of +a bee, she had hoarded up, morsel by morsel, her little store, and who +could tell how many years would be requisite to complete it? And till +then nothing but toil, patience, and unrequited love. + +Lady Apafi, not without an effort, resumed her habitual coldness, wished +her servants good-night, and was already on her way to her chamber, when +Clara rushed forward and kissed her mistress's hand. The lady looked at +her with astonishment. She felt that a burning tear had fallen on her +hand, which the girl held fast and pressed to her lips. + +"What ails you?" asked Dame Apafi, much surprised. + +"Nothing," replied the girl, sobbing; "it is only that I feel so sorry +for your ladyship. I have long had an idea in my head, but have never +yet dared to express it. We have often talked about our master's +captivity and his grievous ransom. We village girls have all of us got +necklaces of gold and silver coins which are no good to us. So we have +agreed among ourselves to club together all this money now lying idle +and give it to your ladyship towards our master's ransom. It may not be +much, but still is something." + +Lady Apafi, her eyes glistening with involuntary tears, pressed hard the +peasant girl's trembling hand. + +"I thank thee, my girl," she said, deeply touched. "I prize thy offer +more highly than if my sister Banfi had placed ten thousand gold chains +at my disposal. But God will also be my helper. In Him is my trust." + +At that moment the trampling of horses was heard in the courtyard and +the dogs fell to barking. + +"Who can that be? Robbers, perhaps!" stammered the old nurse, and +neither of the two servants durst approach the door. + +Then Dame Apafi took the light from the table, stepped to the door, +opened it, and looked out into the courtyard. + +"Who's there?" she cried, loudly and clearly. + +"We!--I mean to say I," returned a hesitating voice, which all three +immediately recognized as Andy's. + +"Oh, 'tis you? Come hither quickly!" said Lady Apafi joyfully, pushing +Andy into the room, who was plainly very much confused, for he kept on +twirling about his hat in his hands, and looked sheepishly at the floor. + +"Well, did you see him and speak to him? Is he well?" asked Lady Apafi +impetuously. + +"Yes, he is quite well," replied the man, glad to have found his voice +again; "he respectfully kisses your ladyship's hand. He also bade me say +that God is good!" + +"But what do you keep looking sideways for? At whom are the dogs +barking?" + +"At the black horse perhaps; it is a long time since they saw him." + +"And you gave the purse to the Mirza?" + +Instead of answering this question, Andy began to fumble about in the +pocket of his sheepskin jacket, and as this pocket was very high up, +narrow and deep, his features expressed the most exquisite torture till +he had fished up the parchment, and he trembled all over as he handed it +to his mistress. + +"Is there still much in arrear? What says the Mirza?" asked Lady Apafi, +with a very shaky voice. + +"There is not much more. One might even say there is very little," +replied Andy, with downcast eyes, fumbling in his confusion with the rim +of his hat. + +"But how much, how much then?" they all cried together. + +Andy got very red. + +"Well--well, there is nothing at all!" + +He said this in a broken voice, and with that he burst into a loud and +long roar of laughter, and immediately after wept as if his heart would +break. + +The mind of Dame Apafi instantly grasped the whole truth. + +"Speak, man!" cried she passionately, seizing the fellow by the +shoulder; "you have brought my husband back with you?" + +Andy waved his fist behind him and nodded his head; he laughed and wept +at the same time; but, to save his life, he could not have uttered a +word. + +Dame Apafi, with a sob and a cry of boundless joy, rushed to the door +which already stood ajar. Some one had been waiting there and listening +all the time; it was Michael Apafi, her long expected, often bewailed +consort. + +"Michael! my beloved husband!" cried the woman, trembling with emotion; +and half swooning, half beside herself, she fell upon her husband's +neck, murmuring unintelligible words of love, joy, and tenderness. + +Apafi pressed her to his breast. She embraced him convulsively; no other +sound was to be heard but a deep sobbing. + +"Thou art mine!" she stammered, after a long pause, when the tempest of +her emotion had somewhat subsided and she was more herself. + +"I am thine," cried Apafi; "and I swear that nothing in the world shall +ever tear me from thee again!" + +"O God, what bliss!" cried Anna, raising her streaming eyes to heaven. +"What joy thou hast brought back to me!" she stammered once more, +leaning on her husband and hiding her face in his bosom. + +"And if the whole world were mine," continued Apafi, "even then I should +not be rich enough to requite thy devotion. I take God to witness, that +if I could call a kingdom my own I would give it thee, and think it but +a beggarly recompense." + +The joyful, loving pair, happy beyond all expression, were then left +alone with their joy and happiness. Late into the night burned the taper +in their window. How much, how endlessly much they had to say to one +another! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE. + + +A year had elapsed since Michael Apafi's return home. There was a great +hubbub in the house at Ebesfalva. One team of horses had scarcely had +time to rest, when off went another at full gallop along the high-road; +the servants themselves were sent hither and thither; some great trouble +had evidently visited the house, but for all that, not a glum or +sorrowful face was to be seen. + +To those who could question discreetly, it was presently whispered that +the wife of Michael Apafi expected every moment to be delivered of a +child. + +Good Sir Michael never quitted the chamber of his suffering consort. The +gossips said that the sight of her husband was a great consolation to +the invalid lady, and that he never ceased whispering sweet, caressing +words into her ear. + +Suddenly a wild tumult filled the courtyard, and, to the great terror of +the servants assembled there, four-and-twenty mounted Albanians, armed +with swords and lances, and headed by a big-headed Turkish Aga, dashed +up to the door. + +"Is your master at home?" cried the Aga dictatorially to Andy, who stood +rooted to the spot with fright. "For if he is," continued he, without +waiting for an answer, "tell him to come here. I have something to say +to him."--Andy still could not find his voice.--"If, however," proceeded +the Turk emphatically, "if he won't come, I'll go and fetch him." + +And with these words he sprang from his horse, and was crossing the +threshold, when Andrew plucked up sufficient courage to stammer--"But, +most gracious sir ..." The Turk turned savagely upon him. + +"It were better, my son, if you did not chatter so much!" said he, and +forthwith he plunged into the vestibule. + +At that very moment Apafi, startled by the clatter of the sabres, came +out of his wife's chamber. He was not a little alarmed when he found +himself face to face with this unexpected guest. + +"Are you Michael Apafi?" asked the Turk wrathfully. + +"The same, at your service, gracious sir," returned Apafi meekly. + +"Good! My master, his Highness, the famous Ali Pasha, commands you to +instantly get into your carriage, and come to my lord's camp at +Kis-Selyk without a single attendant." + +"This is a pretty go," murmured Apafi to himself. "Pardon me, worthy +Aga," added he aloud; "just now it is quite impossible for me to comply +with your wish. My wife lies in the pangs of child-birth; the issues of +life and death depend on the next five minutes. I cannot leave her now." + +"Send for a doctor if your wife is ill; and recollect that to bring down +the wrath of the illustrious Pasha on your head is not the proper way to +cure _her_." + +"Grant me but one day, and then I don't care if I lose my head." + +"You won't lose your head if you obey instantly; but otherwise I'll not +answer for the consequences. Come! don't be a fool." + +Anna heard in her chamber the dialogue that was going on outside, and +anxiously called her consort. Apafi quitted the Aga and hastened to his +wife. + +"What is it?" asked the sufferer, much disturbed. How pale she was at +that moment! + +"Nothing, nothing, my darling! Some one has sent for me, but I don't +mean to go." + +But Lady Apafi had perceived the points of the Turkish lances through +the rifts of the window-curtains, and she cried despairingly-- + +"Michael, they want to carry you off!" Then she clasped her husband +convulsively to her heart. "I won't let you go, Michael! I won't lose +you again. You shall not be dragged off into captivity. Rather let them +kill me." + +"Calm yourself, dear child," said Apafi soothingly. "I really don't know +what they want me for. I have certainly done nothing to offend these +good people. I suppose it is an attempt to levy black-mail. I'll satisfy +them." + +"Alas! I have an evil foreboding. My heart fails me. Some calamity +threatens you," stammered the sick woman; then, bursting into a violent +fit of sobbing, she threw herself on her husband's bosom. "Michael, I +shall never see you again." + +Meanwhile, the Aga outside began to feel bored, so he fell to hammering +at the door, and cried-- + +"Apafi! hi! Apafi! come out! I may not enter your wife's chamber, for +that would be an abomination to a servant of Allah; but if you don't +come out at once I'll burn your house down." + +"I'd better go, perhaps," said Apafi, trying to soothe his wife with +kisses. "My refusal would only make matters worse for us. They are sure +to let me go. I shall be back in the twinkling of an eye." + +"I shall never see you again," gasped Anna. She was near to swooning. + +Apafi took advantage of this momentary fainting fit, plucked up his +courage, left his wife, and joined the Aga with streaming eyes. + +"Well, sir, let us be off," said the Turk. "But surely you won't go +without your sword, just as if you were some poor peasant," continued he +fiercely. "Go back, I say; gird on your sword, and tell your wife that +she need fear nothing." + +Apafi returned to his room, and as he took down his large +silver-embossed sword (it was hanging up on the wall right over the bed) +he said cheerily to his wife-- + +"Look, now! there can scarcely be anything unpleasant in store for me, +or they would not have bidden me buckle on my sword. Trust in God!" + +"I do, I do trust in Him," she replied, convulsively kissing her +husband's hand and pressing it to her heaving bosom. Then she broke +forth again into bitter lamentations. "Apafi, if I die, do not forget +me." + +"Alas!" cried Apafi; then bitterly cursing his fate, he tore himself out +of his consort's arms, and wishing all Turks, born and to be born, at +the bottom of the sea, rushed violently out of the room. + +Then he threw himself into his carriage, and looked neither up nor down, +but wrestled all the way with the one thought that if his wife were now +to die, he would not be able to receive her parting words; and this +thought conjured up before him a whole series of images each more +lugubrious than the other. + +He and his escort had scarcely left Ebesfalva a mile behind them when +the Turks caught sight of a horseman dashing after them at full tilt, +obviously bent on overtaking them, and they called Apafi's attention to +the fact. At first he absolutely refused to listen to them; but when +they told him that the horseman came from the direction of Ebesfalva, he +made the carriage stop and awaited the messenger. + +It was Andy who came galloping up, with waving handkerchief and loosely +hanging reins. + +"Well, Andrew! what has happened?" cried Apafi with a beating heart to +his servant while he was still a long way off. + +"Good news, sir!" cried Andy: "our most gracious lady has just now given +birth to a son, and she herself, thank God! is quite out of danger." + +"Blessed be the name of the Lord!" cried Apafi, with a lightened heart; +and as he dismissed the messenger, the idea which was at the bottom of +all his griefs vanished from his brain, and with it all his griefs also. +He thought of his new-born son, and in the light of that thought he +began to regard his Turkish escort with other eyes: they now seemed to +him as good, honourable, civilized a set of people as it was possible to +find on the face of the earth. + +It was late at night when they reached Ali Pasha's camp. The sentinels +slept like badgers; you might have carried off the whole camp bodily so +far as they were concerned. Apafi had to wait in front of the Pasha's +tent till the latter had huddled on his clothes. The curtains of the +tent were then drawn aside, and he was invited to enter. Ali Pasha was +sitting with folded arms on a carpet spread out in the back part of the +tent; behind him stood two gorgeously-dressed Moors with drawn +scimitars. The outlines of a couple of figures were distinctly visible +through the tapestry wall which separated the back part of the tent from +the audience chamber--no doubt the Pasha's wives, on the alert to pick +up something of what was going on. + +"Art thou that same Michael Apafi who was for some years the prisoner of +the Tartar Mirza?" asked the Pasha, after the usual greetings. + +"The same, most gracious Pasha, to whom also the Khan compassionately +remitted the remainder of the ransom money." + +"Think no more of that. The Mirza remitted the remainder of the ransom +money because my master, the Sublime Sultan, commanded him so to do, +and the illustrious Padishah will do yet more for thee." + +"Wonderingly I listen, and gratefully; not knowing how I have deserved +such grace," returned Apafi. + +"The Sublime Sultan has heard how honestly, discreetly, and manfully +thou hast borne thy doleful captivity, and how thou didst win the hearts +of thy fellow-captives, insomuch that they all looked up to thee, though +among slaves there is no distinction of rank. For which cause therefore, +and also having regard to the fact that the present Prince of +Transylvania, John Kemeny, would fain rebel against the Sublime Porte, +the illustrious Padishah, I say, has for these reasons resolved to raise +thee without delay to the throne of Transylvania and keep thee there." + +"Me! You are pleased to jest with your servant, most gracious sir!" +stuttered Apafi. + +His eyes were blinded by excess of light. + +"Nay, thou hast not the slightest cause to be amazed thereat. The +Padishah has but to nod, and pashas and princes become slaves, beggars, +or corpses. He nods again, and beggars and slaves rise up into their +places. Thou art highly favoured, for thou hast found grace before him. +Use it discreetly then, but beware of abusing it!" + +"But, most gracious sir, does it occur to you how I'm to become a +prince?" + +"Leave that to me. I'll make thee one." + +"But Transylvania has got another prince, John Kemeny." + +"Leave that to me also. I'll dispose of him." + +Apafi shrugged his shoulders. He felt that he had never been in such a +mess in all his life. + +"My wife was quite right in her presentiment that a great misfortune was +about to befall me," thought he to himself. + +The Pasha began again. + +"Summon therefore a Diet at once, so that the installation may take +place as speedily as possible." + +"I summon a Diet! I should like to know who would appear to my summons. +Why, sir, I am the least amongst the gentry of the land; people will +laugh in my face, and say that I am mad." + +"In that case they will soon see that it is they who are mad." + +"But how am I to send out the writs? for, excepting the land of the +Szeklers,[9] Kemeny[10] holds every place." + + [Footnote 9: _Szeklers_ (Siculi). The Szeklers were + originally a military colony placed, at the beginning + of the twelfth century, in the waste lands of + Transylvania, which they engaged to defend against the + incursions of the pagan Pechenegs, on being exempted + from every other obligation.] + + [Footnote 10: John Kemeny, Prince of Transylvania, + 1661-1662.] + +"Then summon the Szeklers. They, at any rate, will come." + +"But I don't even know _their_ chief-men, for I am not a born Szekler. +The only persons I know amongst them are Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and +Stephen Nalaczi." + +"Then summon hither Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, if you +consider them fit and proper persons." + +Apafi began to scratch his head. + +"But supposing they do appear, where shall we hold our Diet? There is no +place for us. At Klausenburg the governor, my brother-in-law, Denis +Banfi, is my sworn enemy, while at Hermannstadt lies John Kemeny in +person." + +"We can assemble here in Kis-Selyk." + +Harassed as he was, Apafi could not help laughing aloud. + +"Why, here there is not a house large enough to hold thirty men," cried +he energetically. + +"What! is there not the church?" interrupted the Pasha. "If that house +be sufficiently fine for the honour of God, I suppose it will do to +honour men in!" + +Apafi saw no further escape. + +"Can you write?" asked the Pasha. + +"Yes, I can do that," replied Apafi, sighing deeply. + +"Very well, for I cannot. So sit down and issue the writs for a Diet." + +A slave then brought in a writing-table, a scroll of parchment, and an +inkhorn. Apafi sat down like a lamb about to be slaughtered, and began +with a caligraphic flourish so large that the Turk sprang up in +affright, and asked what it meant. + +"It is a W," answered Apafi. + +"You won't leave any room for the remaining letters." + +"That is only the initial letter, the others will be much smaller." + +"Read aloud then what you are writing." + +Apafi wrote with a trembling hand and read: "Whereas--" + +The Pasha furiously tore away the parchment and roared at him. + +"Plague take all your whereases and inasmuch-ases! Why all this beating +about the bush? Write the usual formula--'We, Michael Apafi, Prince of +Transylvania, command you, wretched slaves, by these presents, to appear +incontinently before us at Kis-Selyk, under pain of death.'" + +Apafi was brought almost to his wits' ends before he could make the +Pasha comprehend that it was not usual to correspond in this style with +free Hungarian noblemen. At last the Pasha allowed him to write his +letter in his own way, but took care that its purport should be emphatic +and dictatorial. As soon as Apafi had written the letters, Ali Pasha put +a Ciaus on horseback, and sent him off at full speed to all those to +whom the writ was addressed. + +"And now," said Apafi to himself, sighing deeply as he wiped his pen, +"and now I should like to see the man who could tell me what will come +of it all!" + +"Till the Diet assembles," said the Pasha, "you will remain here as my +guest." + +"Cannot I go home then to my wife and child?" asked Apafi, with a +beating heart. + +"To give us the slip, eh? A likely tale. That is always the way with you +Hungarian nobles. Those we won't have at any price are always dangling +about our necks, and begging and praying for the princely diadem; and +those we would place on the throne take to their heels as if we were +going to impale them." And with that the Pasha assigned Apafi a tent and +dismissed him, at the same time giving secret but strict orders to the +guard of honour stationed at the door of the new Prince, not to lose +sight of him for an instant. + +"I'm nicely in for it now," sighed Apafi with the resignation of +despair. + +His solitary hope now was, that the deputies whom he had summoned would +ignore his informal mandate by failing to appear. + + * * * * * + +A few days afterwards, as Apafi still lay on his camp bedstead in the +early morning, Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, with all +the other noble Szeklers to whom the circular had been sent, suddenly +walked into his tent. + +"In Heaven's name!" cried Apafi, starting up, "why have you come +hither?" + +"Your Highness ordered us to come hither," replied Nalaczi. + +"True; but you would have shown far greater wisdom if you had kept away. +What are you going to do?" + +"Solemnly install your Highness, and, if need be, defend you also in the +good old Szekler fashion," replied Stephen Kun. + +"You are too few for that, my brothers," objected Apafi. + +"Pray be so good as to cast a glance outside the tent!" replied Nalaczi, +drawing aside the curtain and pointing to a band of Szeklers armed with +sabres and lances, who had remained outside the tent. "We have marched +out _cum gentibus_, to prove to your Highness that if we have accepted +you as our Prince, we have not done so simply by way of a jest." + +Apafi shrugged his shoulders and began to draw on his boots; but he was +so dazed all the while, that almost an hour elapsed before he was half +dressed. He put on every article of clothing the wrong way, and had to +take it off again. Thus, for example, he had slipped into his mantle +before he even thought of his vest. + +Several hundred gentlemen had met together in Selyk at his bidding, a +thing he had never expected, still less desired. + +When Ali Pasha came out of his tent, he went towards the deputies, took +Apafi by the hand in the presence of them all, threw over his shoulders +a broad, new green velvet mente,[11] put an ermine embroidered cap on +his head, and explained to the assembled crowd that henceforth they were +to regard him as their legitimate Prince; whereupon the Szeklers roared +out deafening "Eljens," raised Apafi on their shoulders, and hoisted him +on to a das covered with velvet which Ali Pasha had expressly provided +for the occasion. + + [Footnote 11: _Mente._ See Note 2, p. 21.] + +"And now," said the Pasha, "go to church, administer the oaths to the +Prince according to ancient custom, and yourselves take the oath of +allegiance. I have ordered the bells to be rung myself, and you had +better have a mass sung in the usual way." + +"Your pardon, but I am a Calvinist," protested Apafi. + +"So much the better. The ceremony will be over all the quicker, and will +cost less trouble. There is the Rev. Francis Magyari, he will preach the +sermon." + +After that Apafi let them do whatever they liked with him, merely +twirling his long moustaches hither and thither, and shrugging his +shoulders whenever they asked him questions. + +Nalaczi and the other Szeklers thought good to treat him in church with +all the respect due to a sovereign prince, and the Rev. Francis Magyari +improvised a powerful sermon, in which he prophesied, in a voice of +thunder, that the God of Israel who had called David from the sheepfolds +to a throne, and exalted him over all his adversaries, would now also +graciously maintain the cause of His elect even though his enemies were +as numerous as the grass of the field or the sand on the sea-shore. + +This modest little house of prayer could never have thought that it +would have been the scene of a Diet and a coronation; and as for Apafi, +not even in his wildest dreams had it ever occurred to him that such +things might befall him. + +He had eyes and ears neither for the coronation nor for the sermon, but +kept on thinking of his wife and child. What would become of them, poor +creatures; where would they be able to hide their heads when John Kemeny +had put him in prison, confiscated his estates, and driven them out of +house and home? It next occurred to him that, somewhere in Szeklerland, +he had a brother, Stephen Apafi, with whom he had always been on the +most friendly terms, who would certainly take them under his roof if he +saw them destitute. These thoughts made him so forgetful of everything +around him, that when at the close of the sermon all present arose and +intoned the _Te Deum_, he too got up, oblivious of the fact that all +this ceremony was being held in his special honour. + +Then some one behind him placed two hands on his shoulders, pressed him +down into his seat again, and a well-known voice growled into his ear-- + +"Keep your seat." + +Apafi looked in the direction of the voice, and fell back in his chair +completely overcome. His brother Stephen was actually standing behind +him. + +"You here too?" said Apafi, deeply distressed. + +"I was a little late," returned Stephen, "but quite early enough after +all, and I'll venture to remain here till you tell me to go." + +"So you have also resolved to plunge into destruction?" + +"Brother," said Stephen, "we are in the hands of God; but something has +been put into our own hands also which may have a say in the matter," +and he touched the hilt of his sword. "Kemeny has lost the affection of +the greater part of the country; why I need not now tell you. Your cause +is righteous, nor do you lack the means of success." + +"But if it should turn out otherwise, what would become of my wife? Have +you not seen her?" + +"I came straight from her--that is why I came so late." + +"What! You have spoken to her? What did she say about my evil case? Was +she not much troubled?" + +"Not in the least. On the contrary, she was very glad of it, and said +that Transylvania could not have got a better prince; that you deserved +this honour far more than any of the magnates who practise nothing but +tyranny and extortion, and that she much regretted her illness prevented +her from assisting you with her sympathy and counsel." + +"Well, I should have liked it better if the election had fallen upon +her," said Apafi, half in jest and half in anger. + +"Take heed to yourself," answered Stephen archly; "the lady is already +so much used to ruling the roost, that we shall live to see her put the +Prince's diadem on her own head, unless you plant it right firmly on +your temples. Nay, brother, don't look so serious; I was but in jest!" + +But does not the proverb say that there is many a true word spoken in +jest? + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA. + + +Meanwhile, his Highness, Prince John Kemeny, was faring sumptuously at +Hermannstadt. This gentleman's darling vice was gluttony--even if the +whole machinery of state were to fall to pieces in consequence, he would +not have risen from table, and amongst all his counsellors his cook +always stood highest. + +And now, too, we find him at dinner. He has converted the Town-hall to +his own use, and it is thronged by his suite. In the courtyard we see +spurred and iron-clad cuirassiers flirting with the Saxon serving-maids; +German musketeers, professedly on guard, who have left their muskets +standing against the doorposts, in order to cultivate friendly relations +with the scullions removing the dishes. With brimming glasses raised on +high, they jocosely warble Hungarian airs picked up on the spur of the +moment, improvising at the same time an absurdly artless sort of dance, +in which one leg performs aimless arial gyrations. On the other hand, +the heydukes of the Hungarian bodyguard, dressed in yellow dolmans with +green facings, sit morosely in twos and threes against the wall, not +even condescending to look at the bumpers of wine thrust, from time to +time, into their hands; but gravely tossing it down at a single gulp +into its proper place, returning the empty pocal to the friendly butler, +who has as much as he can do to keep his feet; keeps on offering the +noble fluid to Tom, Dick, and Harry; and finding it easier to go +backwards than forwards, is constantly backing against the head cook as +he passes to and fro, bearing now a sugared almond tart adorned with +flowers on a silver salver, and representing the tower of Babel, now a +large porcelain bowl exhaling the spicy fragrance of hot punch, or a +peacock on a large wooden platter, roasted whole, with his gorgeous +head-dress and splendid tail still upon him. + +The head cook is scarcely able to force his way through the gaping mob +of petitioners assembled here, who must wait till the Prince has dined, +and are regaled in the meantime with wine, roast meats, and pastry, +getting in short everything but what they came for--justice. + +Within the dining-room itself the gentlemen and ladies are by this time +in a merry mood. The meal has already lasted a pretty long time, and is +likely to last a good while longer. + +French gastronomic science seemed to have reserved all her masterpieces +for Kemeny's banquet. Nature's three kingdoms have been laid under +contribution to tickle the human palate. Every extravagant and +extraordinary delicacy invented by Epicureanism, from the days of +Lucullus to the days of Gallic gourmandism, is here in abundance. Here +is to be seen every sort of foreign and domestic wine, in +artistically-carved and gorgeously-coloured Venetian flasks, placed in +huge silver refrigerators; game, large and small, of the rarest kind, on +silver dishes; transparent, rose-coloured, quivering jellies with names +unpronounceable by Hungarian lips; Indian fruits preserved in cane +sugar; _ragots_ of cocks' combs; enigmatical-looking snails, fit rather +for the eye than for the palate; gigantic lobsters and the rarer kinds +of marine fish fantastically disposed; meats which men who have already +eaten to surfeit can only make believe that they enjoy by a supreme +effort of the imagination; dishes which a true man would only eat by way +of penance; immense pasties made entirely of pikes' livers; large +baskets of rosy swans' eggs, which the guests may boil for amusement in +little silver egg-boilers placed over spirit-lamps in front of them, and +other wonderful dishes innumerable, the purpose of which is not +immediately obvious to ordinary children of men, and everything in such +profusion as would have more than sufficed for six times the number of +guests present. Then too there were there all sorts of spiced drinks to +suit every one's taste, from punch-royal to Polish brandy. Nothing was +forgotten. + +Behind every guest stands a little page, who whisks away his well-filled +plate from him the instant he turns his head, and places before him a +clean one instead. Behind the Prince's chair stands the son of Count +Ladislaus Csaky, who is right proud that a son of his should have the +privilege of filling and refilling the Prince's pocal. + +And the Prince's pocal has to be filled pretty often. Transylvanian +banquets generally ended with a wager on the part of the gentlemen to +drink one another under the table. At such banquets John Kemeny has no +equal. Now too he invites the bolder spirits to take up the usual +challenge. The greater part of the guests, however, decline the +invitation. Only three persons respond to the Prince's challenge. The +first is Wenzinger, the leader of the German mercenaries, a big, +raw-boned man, with a closely-shaven head, bright blue eyes, somewhat +stooping neck, and scarcely visible grey eyebrows. The second is Paul +Beldi, Captain-General of the Szeklers, a grave, handsome, +amiable-looking man with a very high forehead. The wine he has taken +gives a sparkle to his gentle eyes, and his taciturn lips are parted in +a half-smile--drink produces no other effect upon him. He wears a simple +yellow camelot dolman, with a scarlet, silver-embossed girdle round the +waist; his white shirt-collar extends far over his dark-blue kerchief. +His smoothly-combed hair is parted down the middle, brushed behind his +ears, and falls in long locks over his shoulders. The man with delicate +white hands who sits opposite to him, Denis Banfi, Lord-Lieutenant of +Klausenburg, is the third competitor. He is a middle-aged, +broad-shouldered, haughty-looking man, with an air of savage truculence +on his aristocratic face. His thick black beard has never yet been +touched by a razor. His dark, chestnut brown locks lie in spiral rolls +upon his forehead, and flow down over both shoulders in rich crisp +curls. His round face is red by nature, but wine has now made it redder +than ever. His sparkling eyes glance defiantly around. When he addresses +any one he strokes his double chin, screws his neck on one side, and +speaks in a sharp, irritating tone, at the same time throwing back his +haughty head provocatively, and assuming an expression of endless +condescension. His dress consists of a purple dolman with large +enamelled buttons, and over that a short, heavy, white silk tabard +trimmed with swan's-down, the sleeves of which are slit up to the elbows +and garnished with rubies. His golden knightly belt is thrown over his +shoulder with lordly negligence. + +At the head of the table sits John Kemeny himself, with the consorts of +Beldi and Banfi one on each side of him. Kemeny, despite his frequent +intercourse and close relations with the West, still prefers to adopt +the oriental costume. He is characterized by short clipped hair, a long +beard, a grave, dignified face, and a curt, monosyllabic style of +speech. The ruling expression of his face is an unmistakable, fatalistic +indifference to everything about him, an indifference which was ere long +to overwhelm him in so terrible a catastrophe. + +One of the ladies by his side, Banfi's wife, is a delicate, nervous, +gentle being, scarcely twenty years old. Ever since her sixteenth year +she has stood beneath the influence of her violent, imperious husband, +and is now almost as timid as a child. She scarcely ever dares to raise +her eyes, and then only to look at her lord, whom she loves +idolatrously. Her neck and shoulders are covered by a heavy, watered +silk dress, fastened by a row of diamond buttons. Round her neck twines +a gold chain, between each of the large broad links of which sparkles an +emerald. A silk coif set with pearls adorns her head, reaching half-way +down over her forehead, and jealously hiding the blonde locks of the +lovely lady. + +On the other side, between her husband and the Prince, sits Beldi's +wife, still a dazzling beauty. Her complexion ordinarily has the tint of +the white rose, but is now all aglow with the fire of the banquet: her +flushed cheeks seem literally to burn. Her coquettish black eyes roam +hither and thither. A seductive magic lurks in her eyebrows, and when +she lowers her long eyelashes over her burning eyes, how ravishing she +is! Her black locks are held together, not by a coif, but by strings of +pearls artistically intertwined and fastened behind to a little diamond +diadem, from which a long gold filigree veil descends to the ground. Her +dress consists of a tight-fitting, cherry-coloured kirtle of Hungarian +velvet, wide open in front and fastened over her embroidered cambric +smock by strings of pearls. Her snow-white shoulders peep half out of +the short, puffed sleeves, which are fastened in the middle by huge opal +clasps, leaving bare her exquisitely-shaped arms. She wears bracelets of +large oriental pearls, and a pale pink rose is stuck nonchalantly in her +bosom. + +The guests sitting at the far end of the table are plainly scandalized +by the coquettish ways of the siren, who, although she has a +marriageable daughter, still presumes to appear publicly in an open +kirtle; but the Prince, the impetuous Banfi, and even her own dove-like +husband, who worships his wife, appear to be all the more delighted with +her in consequence. + +The drinking wager had already somewhat exhilarated the worthy +gentlemen, so that they began to mingle their songs with the music which +had been playing in the gallery ever since the banquet began, when the +captain of the guard, Gabriel Haller, suddenly rushed into the room with +a very serious face, and hastening to the Prince, whispered a couple of +words in his ear. Kemeny looked first at him and then at the glass he +held in his hand, emptied it with the utmost composure, and then burst +into a loud peal of laughter. + +"Pray tell your tidings to the company, that they may know what is going +on," cried he to Haller, in a loud voice. + +Haller hesitated. + +"Come! Out with it. You could not, if you tried, invent anything half so +entertaining. Stop playing up there, will you! This is something like a +joke." + +The company urged Haller to lose no time in passing the joke on. + +"There is not much to tell," said Haller, shrugging his shoulders. "It +is only that Ali Pasha has proclaimed Michael Apafi Prince of +Transylvania." + +"Ha! ha! ha!" resounded on all sides. The Prince, with comic +affectation, turned first to one and then to the other. + +"Who is the individual? Does any one know him? Has anybody ever heard of +him?" + +Lady Banfi turned pale and clung tightly to her husband's arm, who +leaned his elbow on the table and replied with sublime indifference-- + +"The poor devil is, I believe, a very distant connection of mine. He has +married some relation or other of my wife's. He was for a long time a +slave among the Tartars, and the Turks (being wroth with us just now) +have no doubt only released him on condition that he allows himself to +be made Prince. He must be clean out of his senses." + +At this all the gentlemen laughed still more loudly than before. + +"Well, we'll go and inaugurate him," said Kemeny sarcastically, throwing +back his head. + +"That has already been done, your Highness," put in Haller. + +"Where? By whom?" asked the good-humoured Prince, with arched eyebrows. + +"At Kis-Selyk, by the Diet!" + +Kemeny intimated by a wave of his hand and a contraction of his eyebrows +that this explanation was not quite clear to him. + +"Who then were present? Where were the Estates? All the men of any +importance in the land are here with us." + +"There were Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, Kun, Daczo, and some two hundred +Szeklers." + +"Well, we'll go and count them as soon as we have disposed of our other +affairs," said the Prince contemptuously. "Pray give Master Haller a +chair!" + +"But they are not awaiting us there. They are marching against us. By +this time they must be at Segesvar." + +"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Kemeny. "I suppose, then, Master Michael Apafi +thinks to drive us out of the country with his couple of hundred +Szeklers." + +But now Wenzinger rose from his chair, and remarked with soldierly +precision-- + +"Does your Highness wish me to concentrate the army? We have eight +thousand armed men, and, if it please your Highness, we will disperse +this mob of nondescripts so effectually that not a couple of them shall +remain together." + +"Keep your seat!" commanded Kemeny, who treated the whole affair with +the most sovereign contempt. "Sit down again and drink! Let them come a +little nearer! Why should we inconvenience ourselves by going out +against them? We can then take the whole lot together bag and baggage. I +much regret, my lord Denis Banfi, that this fellow is a kinsman of +yours; but, out of regard for you, I will take care that he is not +broken on the wheel--I will simply have him _stuffed_!" + +Kemeny's witticism was received with uproarious laughter. + +"Give Master Haller a glass. And you up there! go on playing where you +left off." + +And once more the music resounded. The gipsy band now played a +_csrds_.[12] The gentlemen clinked glasses and sang in unison. The +guards outside joined in the song. The glasses flew against the wall. +Every one was ready to dash his glass into a thousand pieces except +Gabriel Haller, who, being the last comer and therefore tolerably +sober, was ashamed to destroy the expensive Venetian crystals so +recklessly. + + [Footnote 12: _Csrds_ [pr. _chrdsh_]. The national + dance of Hungary. It is danced in 3/4 time by single + couples, who improvise the figures. It commences with a + very slow and stately movement, gradually quickening + into a furious gallop.] + +"Come! down with it! Let the splinters fly!" roared the Prince at him, +and to please his Highness Haller dutifully but gingerly rapped his +glass against the table till it broke off clean at the neck, quite +decently and respectably, whereupon he bowed low to his Highness with +obsequious humility. + +Dame Banfi sighed at the thought of her kinswoman; but Banfi, to show +how very little he cared about the matter, leaped from his chair, and +with the wild music of the _csrds_ ringing in his ears, invited the +lovely Lady Beldi to a dance. + +The merry siren did not require twice bidding. Banfi passed his arm +around her slender waist, pressed her tightly to his breast, and whirled +away with her. The fiery beauty hung with elfin airiness on her +partner's arm. + +Then all the other gentlemen present, carried away by Banfi's example, +also leaped from their seats and whirled away with their fair +neighbours, till the whole company resolved itself into a maze of +fantastically revolving figures, every one dancing, applauding, and +huzzahing to his heart's content. + +Banfi was an impetuous, hot-blooded man who loved pretty women in +general and at all times. Now, moreover, he was heated with wine, and +thus it came about that as his lovely partner was dangling on his arm +and her glowing cheeks came very near to his, he suddenly so far forgot +himself as to press the bewitching dame to his breast and imprint a +burning kiss upon her lips. + +Lady Beldi shrieked aloud, and instantly repulsed the self-forgetful +Lothario. Banfi, much confused, cast a glance around him; but apparently +every one was so taken up with his own amusement, that neither the +shriek nor the kiss had been observed. + +Nevertheless, Lady Beldi, very much offended, left off dancing, and when +Banfi began stammering some sort of an apology, she sharply told him to +be off and leave her. + +Banfi will one day have to pay very dearly for that kiss! + +Nobody had observed it, however, save him whom it most concerned--the +husband. Beldi's eyes had seen it. Oh! you must not imagine that an +uxorious husband is never jealous. Even though he makes as though he +hears and sees nothing, he sees and hears and observes all the same. He +had seen Banfi kiss his wife, although he feigned not to perceive his +consort's confusion as, excited and indignant, she went in search of +him. He took her by the hand and led her out of the room. When they got +outside, he bade her go to her lodgings and dress for a journey. + +"Whither are we going?" asked the agitated lady. + +"Home to Bodola!" + + * * * * * + +Of all the guests, Denis Banfi was the only one who saw them quit the +room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BODOLA. + + +In one of the innermost recesses of the county of Fels-Feher, when you +have left behind you the Boza Pass, or avoided it by taking one of the +narrow footpaths which wind along the mountain side, you will come in +sight of the Tatrang valley. + +On every side of you are hills wrapped in lilac-coloured mists, and +behind the hills the heaven-aspiring peak of Kapri, glistening with +early-fallen snow. From the mist-shrouded valley below emerge four or +five villages, with their white houses sending up bluish smoke-wreaths +among the green orchards. The little Tatrang stream winds, silvery blue, +in and out among the quiet villages, forming cascades in its downward +progress, which in the dim distance look like fleecy mists. The clouds +sink so deeply down into the valleys that their golden, veil-like shapes +hide first this and then that object from the eyes of the observer on +the hill-tops. There you can see Hosszufalva, with its far-stretching +street. There, again, the tiny church of Zajzonfalva, whose pointed, +tin-covered roof gleams far and wide in the rays of the sun. Tatrang +lies on the banks of the stream, just where a large wooden bridge has +been thrown across it. Far, very far off, black and misty, are to be +seen the walls of Kronstadt and the blue outlines of the still unscathed +citadel. In the valley just below you is the straggling village of +Bodola. The houses lie low, but the church stands on rising ground, and +opposite the village you notice a sort of small fortress with broad +towers, black bastions, and projecting battlements. The western bastion +is built on a steep rock, whence there is a fall of three hundred feet +on to the roofs of the houses below. + +It is only in the distance, however, that the castle looks so gloomy. On +approaching nearer, you perceive that what had seemed, from afar, to be +a dark green belt of bushes, is really a wreath of flower-gardens thrown +round the ramparts. The large Gothic windows are adorned with handsome +sculptures and stained glass. A well-kept, serpentine path winds up the +steep rock, and there is a mossy stone seat at every bend. Where the +rock is most precipitous a breastwork has been thrown up. The pointed +turrets of the castle are all painted red, and adorned with fantastic +weathercocks. + +The path leading through the Boza Pass to Kronstadt is not more than an +hour's journey from this little castle, and along this path, at the very +time when Prince John Kemeny was still regaling himself at Hermannstadt, +we see a long line of cavalry wending their way into the valley +below--two thousand Turkish horsemen, or thereabouts, distinguishable +from afar by the scarlet tips of their turbans and their snow-white +kaftans. Among them are some hundreds of Wallachian irregulars in brown +gabardines and long black _csalmaks_.[13] + + [Footnote 13: _Csalmak_ [pr. _chalmak_]. A low, skin + turban.] + +The way is so narrow here that the horsemen can only proceed along in +couples, so that while the rearguard is still painfully making its way +through the narrow defile between converging rocks, the vanguard has +already reached Tatrang. + +The Turkish general is a middling-sized, sunburnt man, with eyes as bold +and bellicose as an eagle's. A large scar runs right across his +forehead. His beard curls in little locks around his chin. His moustache +is twisted fiercely upwards on both sides, making one suspect an +excessively fiery temper in its possessor, a suspicion confirmed by his +hard and curt mode of speech, the haughty carriage of his head, and the +impatient movements of his body. + +He halts his little army outside the village, to give the rearmost time +to come up. Last of all roll a few wagons and a large pumpkin-shaped +coach. This is all the heavy baggage which the Turks carry with them. +The rearguard is led by a child whose round, cherub face contrasts +strangely with his glittering scimitar and his grave, commanding look. +He cannot be more than twelve. Inside the coach, the curtains of which +are thrown back on both sides so as to freely admit the evening air, we +perceive a young lady of about five-and-twenty years of age, dressed +half in Turkish, half in Christian costume, for she wears the wide +silken hose and the short blue open kaftan of the Turkish ladies, but +has taken off her turban, and her face, contrary to Turkish custom, is +without a veil. She gazes with the utmost composure out of the carriage +window, bestowing her attention now upon the landscape and now upon the +passing peasants. + +The Turkish commander is marshalling his forces in the village below. +They seem used to the strictest discipline. Every one looks steadily at +his leader without moving a muscle. At the head of the left wing stands +the little boy; a tall, muscular man leads the right. The Wallachs are +drawn up in the rear. + +"My brave fellows,"--the Pasha addresses his troops in a hard, sharp +voice--"you will pitch your tents here! Every one will remain in his +place hard by his saddled horse, without laying aside arms or armour. +Ferhad Aga[14] with twelve men will go into the village and respectfully +ask the magistrate to send hither forty hundredweights of bread, just as +much flesh, and double as much hay and oats, at the average price of +four asper[15] per pound, neither more nor less." + + [Footnote 14: _Aga._ An honorary title among the Turks, + here equivalent to lieutenant.] + + [Footnote 15: _Asper._ A small silver coin worth about + fifteen to twenty kreutzers.] + +Then the Pasha turned towards the Wallachs-- + +"You, dogs! don't suppose that we have come hither to plunder! Stir not +from this spot, for if I find out that so much as a goose has been +stolen from the village, I'll hang up your leaders and decimate the rest +of you!" + +He then selected four horsemen. + +"You will follow me," said he; "the rest remain here. This very night we +resume our march. During my absence Feriz Beg commands." + +The little boy bowed. + +"If Feriz Beg receives orders from me to quit you, you will obey Ferhad +Aga till I return." + +With that the Pasha struck his spurs into his horse's sides, and +galloped with his escort towards Bodola. + +Then the boy whom the Pasha had called Feriz Beg rode forward with +soldierly assurance, and in a deep, sonorous voice gave the order to +dismount. His hard-mouthed Arab plunged, kicked, and reared, but the +little commander, heedless of the capers of his steed, delivered his +further orders with perfect self-possession. + +Meanwhile the Pasha pursued his way towards Bodola Castle. + +Paul Beldi had arrived there only the day before with his wife, having +quitted Kemeny's Court without a word of explanation, and was standing +in the porch at the moment when the Turkish horsemen trotted into the +courtyard. In those days the relations of Transylvania with the Turks +were so peculiar, that visits of this kind might be made at any time +without any previous announcement. + +The Pasha no sooner beheld Beldi, than he sprang from his horse, ran up +the steps to him, and brusquely presented himself--"I am Kucsuk Pasha. +Being in the way, I came to have a word with thee if thou canst listen." + +"Command me," replied Beldi, pointing to the reception-room, and +motioning to his guest to enter first. + +It was a square-built room, the walls of which were painted with +oriental landscapes, the spaces between the windows being filled by +large cut-glass mirrors in steel frames. The marble floor was covered +with large variegated carpets. Round about the walls hung ancestral +pictures, with clusters here and there of ancient weapons of strange +shape and construction. In the middle of the room stood a large green +marble table with fantastically twisted legs. Huge arm-chairs with +morocco coverings and ponderous carvings were dispersed about the room. +Facing the entrance was a door leading to a balcony, commanding a +panorama of the snow-capped mountains. The evening twilight cast red and +lilac patches through the painted windows on the faces of those who are +now entering. + +"How can I serve you?" inquired Beldi of the Pasha. + +"Thou art well aware," replied Kucsuk, "that great discord now prevails +in this country on account of the throne." + +"It does not concern me. I have made up my mind to remain neutral." + +"I have not come hither to beg for thy advice or assistance in that +matter; the sword will decide it. What brings me to thee is a purely +family affair which concerns me deeply." + +Beldi, much surprised, made his guest sit down beside him. + +"Speak," said he. + +"Thou mayest perhaps have heard, that once upon a time a daughter of the +Kallay family fell in love with a young Turkish horseman, naturally +without the consent of her kinsfolk?" + +"Yes, I've heard of it. People say that the young Turk was equally +victorious in love and in war." + +"Possibly. His victories in war, however, have disqualified him from +being the Knight of Love. Thou seest that my face is furrowed with +scars; know that I am the man who wedded that woman!" + +Beldi began to regard the Pasha with curiosity and astonishment. + +"I have continued to love that woman devotedly," pursued the Pasha. +"That may appear strange to thee in the mouth of a Turk, but so it is. I +have had neither wife nor concubine beside her. She has borne me a son, +of whom I am proud. My affairs just now are in such a critical condition +that I must, with God's help, work wonders, or perish on the +battle-field. Thou knowest that the religion of Mahommed highly commends +such a death. I have therefore no anxiety on that score. It is the +thought of my wife which disturbs me. If she should lose me and my son, +she would be in great straits. She would be persecuted in Turkey because +she remained a Christian; she would be persecuted in Transylvania +because she married a Mussulman. There my kinsfolk, here her own, are +her enemies. I come to thee therefore with a petition. I have heard tell +of thee as an honourable man, and of thy wife as a worthy woman. Receive +my consort into thy family circle. She will not be a burden to thee, for +I leave her everything I possess. All she wants is thy protection. If +thou dost promise me that, thou canst count upon my eternal friendship +and gratitude, and mayst command my fortune, my sword, and my life in +case I survive." + +Beldi pressed the hand of the Pasha. + +"Bring your wife hither. I and my family will welcome her as a +kinswoman." + +"I may bring her then?" + +"We shall be delighted to see her," returned Beldi; and he commanded his +retainers to escort the Pasha's suite back to Tatrang with torches, and +fetch from thence his carriage. + +Kucsuk sent word by them that Feriz Beg was to come too. + +Meanwhile Beldi introduced Kucsuk to his wife, and he was not a little +delighted to find that she recollected the Pasha's wife as one of her +girlish friends, whom she looked forward to see again with sincere joy +and some curiosity. + +After the lapse of some hours the carriage rumbled noisily into the +well-paved courtyard. Feriz Beg escorted it on horseback. + +Lady Beldi hastened down the steps to meet the Pasha's wife as she +stepped out of the coach, and received her with a cry of joy--"What! +Catharine! Do you still know me?" + +The lady immediately recognized her youthful playfellow, and the two +friends rushed into each other's arms, kissed again and again, and said +of course the sweetest things to each other--"Why, darling, you are more +handsome than ever!"--"And you, dear! What a stately woman you have +grown!" etc., etc., etc. + +"Look, this is my son," said Catharine, pointing to Feriz Beg, who, +after dismounting, had hastened with childlike tenderness to help his +mother out of her coach. + +"Oh, what a little darling!" cried Lady Beldi, quite enchanted, and +covering the rosy-cheeked child with kisses. + +If only she had known that this child was a child no longer, but a +general! + +"And I've got children too!" continued Lady Beldi, with maternal +emulation. "You shall see them! Does your son speak Hungarian?" + +"Hungarian!" cried Catharine, almost offended; "what! the child of an +Hungarian mother, and not speak Hungarian! How can you ask such a +question?" + +"So much the better," said Lady Beldi, "the children will become friends +all the more quickly. From henceforth you belong to the family. Our +husbands have settled all that already, and we shall be so delighted!" + +The amiable and sprightly housewife then embraced her friend once more, +took Feriz Beg by the hand, and led them both into the family circle, +chatting merrily all the time, and asking and answering a thousand +questions. + +A cheerful fire was sparkling in the chimney of the ladies' cabinet. +Large flowered-silk curtains darkened the walls. On a little ivory table +ticked a gorgeous clock, ablaze with rubies and chrysoprases. Sofas +covered in cornflower-blue velvet offered you a luxurious repose. On a +round table in the centre of the room, from which an embroidered Persian +tapestry fell in rich folds to the ground, stood a heavy candelabrum of +massive silver, representing a siren holding on high a taper in each of +her outstretched hands. + +In front of the fine white marble chimney-piece were Dame Beldi's +children. The elder, Sophia, a tall, slight, bashful-looking beauty of +some fourteen summers, was bustling about the fire. She still wore her +hair as children do, thrown back in two long, large plaits which reached +almost to her heels. This girl was afterwards Paul Wesselenyi's consort. + +The second child, a little girl of about four, was kneeling at the feet +of her elder sister, and throwing dried flowers into the fire. She went +by the name of _Aranka_, which in Hungarian means "little goldy," for +she carried her name on her locks, which flowed over her round little +shoulders in light golden waves. Her vivacious features, sparkling eyes, +and tiny hands are never still, and now too she is mischievously teasing +and thwarting her elder sister, laughing aloud with artless glee +whenever Sophia, naturally without succeeding in the least, tries to be +very angry. + +On hearing footsteps and voices at the door, both children spring up +hastily. The elder one, perceiving strangers, tries to smooth the +creases out of her dress, while Aranka rushes uproariously to her +mother, embraces her knees, and looks up at her with her plump little +smiling face. + +"These are my children," said Lady Beldi with inward satisfaction. + +Catharine embraced the elder girl, who shyly presented her forehead to +be kissed. + +"And here's your cousin, little Feriz. You must kiss him too!" said Lady +Beldi, pushing together the bashful children, who scarcely dared to +press the tips of their lips together. Sophia immediately afterwards +blushed right up to the ears, and rushed out of the room. Nothing would +induce her to show herself again that evening. + +"Oh, you shamefaced mimosa!" cried Lady Beldi, laughing loudly. "Why, +Aranka is braver than you. Eh, my little girl? You're not afraid to kiss +Cousin Feriz, are you?" + +The little thing looked up at the boy and drew back, clinging fast all +the time to her mother's skirts, but never once removing her large, +dark-blue eyes from Feriz, who knelt down, took the little girl in his +arms, and gave her a hearty kiss on her round, rosy cheeks. + +Having gone safely through this ordeal, Aranka was quite at home with +her new acquaintance. She bade the Turkish cousin sit him down on a +stool by the fire, and, laying her head on his lap, began asking him +questions about everything he wore, from the hilt of his scimitar to the +plume in his turban--absolutely nothing escaped her curiosity. + +"Let the children play!" cried Lady Beldi merrily, as with high +good-humour she led her friend out upon the balcony, from whence they +could survey the whole Tatrang valley now floating in the bright +moonlight. + +Here the two women--while the men were engaged with serious matters, and +the children were playing--here the two women entered into one of those +long confidential chats which young ladies find so charming when they +are by themselves, especially when they have as much to ask and answer +as these two had. + +Kucsuk Pasha's wife was a middling-sized, powerfully-built woman. Her +well-rounded bosom and broad shoulders were shown off by her +tight-fitting kaftan, which was fastened round the waist by a girdle of +gold thread, and reached somewhat lower down than is usual with the +dresses of Turkish ladies, just permitting a glance at her wide, +flowing, red silk pantaloons and her dainty little yellow slippers. Her +face, if a trifle too stern and hard, was yet most lovely; her full and +florid complexion betokened a somewhat choleric temperament; her thick, +coal-black eyebrows had almost grown together, and her gaze was burning +in its intensity. + +Lady Beldi made her sit down by her side, took her familiarly by the +hand, and playfully asked-- + +"Your husband then has no other wife but you?" + +Catharine laughed, and replied with just a shade of impatience-- + +"I suppose, now, you fancy that an Hungarian woman has only to wed a +Turk to instantly become his slave? You have no idea how dearly my +husband loves me." + +"I am sure of it, Catharine. But recollect that my question related to +what has long been customary among you." + +"Among us! My dear, I am not a Turkish woman!" + +"What then?" + +"A Christian, just as you are. We were married by a Calvinist minister, +the Rev. Martin Biro, now an exile in Constantinople, and for whom my +husband, out of gratitude, has built a church where the Hungarians and +Transylvanians who dwell there may attend divine service." + +"Really! Then your husband does not persecute the Christians?" + +"Certainly not. He believes that every religion is good, as leading to +heaven, but that his own faith is the best, as opening the gate of the +very highest heaven. Moreover, my husband has a very good heart, and is +much more enlightened than most of his fellows." + +"But why have you not tried to convert him to the Christian religion?" + +"Why should I? Because our poets regularly conclude their love-romances +in which a Turk falls in love with a Christian girl, by bringing him to +baptism and dressing him in a mente instead of a kaftan? Here, however, +you have one of those romances of real life, in which a woman follows +her spouse and sacrifices everything for him." + +"No doubt you are right, Catharine; but you must let me get used to the +idea that a Christian, let alone an Hungarian, girl may wed a Turk." + +"And listen, dear Lady Beldi: surely God would have imputed less merit +to me, if I had converted my husband to our faith, instead of leaving +him in the faith wherein he was born? As a Christian renegade he would +have occupied but a humble place in our little church; while as one of +the most influential of the Pashas, he has made the fate of all the +Christians in Turkey so tolerable, that the Christian subjects of other +states flock over to us as to a land of promise. Often, when he has +received his share of the spoils of battle, he has handed me a long list +with the names of those of my enslaved countrymen whom he has ransomed +at a great price. He has expended immense treasures in this way. And +believe me, love, the perusal of such a list gives me more pleasure than +the sight of the most beautiful oriental pearls which my husband might +easily have purchased with the amount, and it has raised him higher in +my estimation than if he had learnt the whole Psalter by heart. And he +is not the man to break the word he has once given, whether it be to God +or to his fellow-man. If he were capable of abjuring his religion, I +could believe no longer in his love, for then he would cease to be him +whom I have always known; he would cease to be the man who, when once he +has said a thing, always abides by it, never goes back from, and is to +be moved neither by the terrors of death nor the tears of a woman." + +Lady Beldi embraced her friend, and kissed her glowing cheeks. + +"You are right, my good Catharine! 'Tis our prejudices that prevent us +from rising higher than everyday thoughts. It is true. Love also has her +faith, her religion. But how about your country? Have you never thought +of that?" + +Catharine rose with proud self-satisfaction from her seat, and pressed +her friend's hand. + +"Let this convince you that I indeed love my country. I am about to +sacrifice for it the lives of my husband and my son, whom perhaps I now +behold for the last time." + +Lady Beldi's face plainly showed that she did not quite grasp the +meaning of these words, and Catharine was about to explain them to her, +when a servant announced that the gentlemen had long been awaiting them +in the dining-room. + +Lady Beldi thereupon gave her arm to her friend and led her into the +dining-room. The children had already become such close friends that +Aranka allowed Feriz Beg to carry her in to dinner, playing all the time +with childish coquetry with the diamond clasp of his agraffe. + +The lady of the house assigned to every one his place. Catharine took +the upper end of the table. On her right sat the Pasha, on her left the +hostess. The host took his place at the lower end of the table. Feriz +and Aranka sat side by side. Opposite Feriz was an empty place, the shy +Sophia's, whom nothing could induce to come to dinner. + +Catharine seeing that a large wine-jug was placed in front of her +husband, quickly seized it in order to exchange it for a cut-glass +caraffe full of pure, sparkling spring water. Lady Beldi remarked the +action, and glanced mischievously at her embarrassed friend. + +"He never drinks wine," said Catharine apologetically. "It is not good +for him. He is of a somewhat excitable nature." + +Kucsuk smiled and lifted Catharine's hand to his lips. + +"Why gloss over the truth? Why not say straight out that I do not drink +wine because the Koran forbids it, because I am a Mussulman?" + +Beldi shook his head at his wife and pointed at the children in order to +give another turn to the conversation. + +"It looks as if your son were already quite at home with us, Kucsuk. You +shall see, when you come back, what a Magyar we have made of him." + +Kucsuk and Feriz exchanged a proud and rapid glance, and then both of +them looked at Beldi. + +The child's features had suddenly and completely changed; at that moment +he looked wondrously like his father. There was the same hard, stony +glance, the same defiant bearing, the same haughty elevation of the +brows. + +"So thou dost imagine, Beldi," said Kucsuk severely, "that I only +brought my son hither to leave him with thee?" + +"But surely you do not mean to take that child with you to battle?" + +"Child dost thou call him! He is already the commander of four hundred +mounted Spahis; has already been in three engagements; has had two +horses shot under him, and is to command the left wing of my forces in +the impending battle." + +The Beldis looked with amazement at the child, who, with all eyes fixed +upon him, assumed his most manly air. + +"But I hope that you will at least keep him by your side in the heat of +the fight?" said Lady Beldi, much disturbed. + +"Not at all. I lead the centre. He too will give a good account of +himself. When I was his age I already wore the Nishan[16] order on my +breast, and I hope that this time he will not return home without having +at least deserved it." + + [Footnote 16: _Nishan Order._ A Turkish order of merit + for valour, instituted by Selim III. It consisted of a + gold medallion bearing the Sultan's effigy.] + +"But if it comes to a _mle_, and he is in danger?" continued Lady +Beldi, with increasing apprehension. + +"Then he will fight as a brave soldier should," returned Kucsuk, +stroking his moustache, which immediately twisted upwards of its own +accord. + +"Ah, no; he is far too tender to sustain a conflict with grown men!" +cried Dame Beldi compassionately. + +"Feriz," cried Kucsuk to his son, "just take down that sabre from the +wall, and show our friends that thou canst wield it like a man." + +The boy sprang up, and, proudly confident in his own strength, chose +from the weapons that hung on the wall not a sabre but a huge +club--seized it by the extreme end of the handle, and swung it with +outstretched arms in every direction with an ease and a dexterity which +would have done honour to any man. His feat was rewarded by enthusiastic +applause. + +"Deuce take it!" cried the astonished Beldi; "that is what I call a good +graft, a Magyar scion on a Turkish stock. You did not carry off his +mother for nothing. Come, Kucsuk--give me that lad!" + +"Be it so! But give me thy daughter." + +"Which? Make your choice." + +"She who sits next to him. When she has grown up they will make a good +pair, and then we shall both have a son and a daughter." + +Beldi laughed heartily, and both the women exchanged a smile. Kucsuk +looked with an air of satisfaction at his son, who took his aigrette +from his turban, tore off the diamond buckle which had pleased Aranka so +much, and handed it to the little girl with lavish gallantry. The child +timidly stretched out her tiny hand towards the costly gift, the +material as well as the moral worth of which she was far from +suspecting, but which nothing in the world would now have made her +relinquish. + +The parents suddenly became silent. Their faces still wore a smile, but +there was a melancholy earnestness in their eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZLLS. + + +Meanwhile Michael Apafi, comforted by Ali Pasha's assurance that help +was nigh at hand, had thrown himself into Segesvar, and there awaited +the turn of Fortune's wheel. John Kemeny came out against him with a +vast host. He had with him an imposing array of German and Hungarian +troops, but what his army really wanted was an enterprising general. + +Michael Apafi had very little to oppose to such a host--a few hundred +stubborn, undisciplinable Szekler spearmen, a handful of Saxon burghers, +and a bodyguard of blue Janissaries, altogether only about a tenth part +of Kemeny's army. + +Acting therefore on the advice of his brother Stephen, the Prince +resolved to remain strictly on the defensive at Segesvar till +auxiliaries should reach him from his Turkish protector. This resolution +pleased the Saxon burghers immensely, for they were well able to defend +themselves behind the walls of their own city, but never felt quite at +ease in the open field. Upon the Szeklers, however, Apafi's resolution +produced just the contrary effect. + +It was Nalaczi's mission to keep the Szeklers in a martial humour, and +one evening he took them all into the tavern, and filled them with such +ardour that at break of day they marched clamorously beneath the windows +of the Prince, and swore by hook and by crook that they must have one of +the city gates opened for them at once, so that they might fall upon +Kemeny there and then and fight him to the death. + +The Prince and his counsellors went down among them in great alarm, and +tried in every way to make it clear to them that Kemeny's suite alone +was more numerous than all the Szeklers put together; that at least +one-half of his army was armed with muskets, whereas with them scarcely +any one except the Saxon burghers knew even how to use fire-arms; and +that if they rushed out at one door, the enemy would rush in at the +other, and then there would be neither outside nor inside--and much more +to the same effect. + +But whoever fancies he can drive out of a Szekler's head what he has +once got into it is mightily mistaken. + +"Either you must let us march against the foe or home we go!" cried +they. "We don't mean to lie here for the next ten years like the +Trojans, for there's work to be done at home. Apportion, therefore, so +many of the enemy to each one of us; let every man go out and slay his +lot, and then in God's name dismiss us. We won't submit to be blockaded +and rationed on dog and rat-flesh." + +"My good fellows, if you don't like stopping here, go home by all +means," was Apafi's ultimatum; "but to fight a battle in my +circumstances were mere madness." + +The Szeklers did not waste another word; but they seized their wallets, +shouldered their lances, and marched out of Segesvar as if they never +had had anything to do with it. + +From that moment the Szeklers became Apafi's enemies to his dying day. + +Next day Kemeny's host stood beneath the walls of the town where Apafi +now barely had armed men sufficient to guard the gates. + +The siege operations were entrusted to Wenzinger as having had most +experience in warfare. This great general, true to the principles of the +school in which he had been brought up, first of all carefully surveyed +every inch of his ground; then he cautiously occupied every position +which by any possibility might become important, and took care also that +the besieging host should be covered at all points--in short, he so spun +out his preparations by his systematic way of going to work, that by the +time he had really begun to think about the siege, tidings reached him +that the Turkish auxiliaries were advancing by forced marches. Thereupon +(still faithful to his system) he re-concentrated his scattered forces, +and prepared to march against the Turks, the Hungarian gentry being +ready to a man to follow him. But John Kemeny was against a general +advance, holding that if the Turkish contingent was strong enough to put +his forces to flight, he would have Segesvar in his rear, and thus would +be caught between two fires. He therefore preferred to await his +opponent's attack, and retiring in consequence from the town, pitched +his camp at Nagy Szlls, whence he looked calmly on while Kucsuk +Pasha's horsemen, amid the bray of clarions, made their entry into +Segesvar. + +Apafi had eaten and drunk nothing for three days from sheer anxiety at +the straits into which he had fallen, through no fault of his own, when +word was brought him of the arrival of the auxiliaries. It was late in +the evening when Kucsuk Pasha, after a fatiguing march along +unfrequented mountain paths, entered the town. Apafi rode out to meet +him, and saluted the Turks as his guardian angels. But great indeed was +his astonishment, after mustering the troops twice or thrice, to find +that at the very highest estimate they were only a fifth part of the +forces opposed to him. + +"What does your Excellency mean to do with this little band?" he +uneasily asked the Pasha. + +"God alone knows, who reads the destiny of man in heaven above," +returned Kucsuk with laconic fatalism; and that was all that the Prince +could get out of him. That night the Turks pitched their tents in the +market-place, immediately opposite the dwelling of the Prince. + +Apafi, after so many sleepless nights, could at last enjoy repose. It +did his heart good to hear beneath his windows the snorting of the +war-horses and the sabre-clattering of the sentries, and he gradually +dozed off in the midst of the comforting hubbub, reflecting, that with +such an army he could at least defend himself for some time, and that +meanwhile a great many things might happen. Long before daybreak, +however, he was awakened by the hammering of planks, the usual signal to +the Turkish cavalry to feed their horses. "They feed their horses very +early in the morning," thought the Prince, and he turned over on to the +other side and again fell asleep. While still half-dreaming he fancied +he heard the songs of the dervishes, songs apt to make even the wakeful +feel drowsy. Then a loud and sudden flourish of trumpets once more +aroused his Highness from his slumbers. "Egad! What are they about in +the middle of the night?" cried he peevishly; got up, looked out of the +window, and saw that the Turks were all sitting motionless on their +horses in the dark. Then came a second flourish, and the whole squadron +started off, the clattering of the horses' hoofs on the paving-stones +and the watch-words of the sentinels resounding far and wide through +the silent night. "This Pasha is a very restless man," thought Apafi. +"Even at night, and after so many fatigues, he grudges his men their +proper repose." And with that he again turned in, and fell into a yet +sweeter sleep, from which he only awoke on the following morning. + +The sun stood high in the heavens when Apafi rang for his steward and +factotum, John Cserey. + +The first question he put to him was, "What is the Pasha about?" + +"He quitted the town last night, and sent back a messenger, who has been +waiting outside there ever since dawn to deliver his message." + +"Let him come in at once," cried Apafi, and he began hastily to dress. + +Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, and Daczo entered the Prince's apartments at the +same time as Kucsuk's messenger. They too had been waiting for the last +two hours for the Prince to awake, and were very curious to hear the +Pasha's message. + +"Speak quickly!" cried Apafi to the Turk, who bowed to the ground, +folded his arms across his breast, and said-- + +"Illustrious Prince! my master, Kucsuk Pasha, speaks these words to thee +through the mouth of thy servant: Remain quietly in Segesvar and be of +good cheer. Let the troops that are with thee mount guard upon the +walls. Meantime my master, Kucsuk Pasha, is marching against John +Kemeny, and will fight him wherever he meets him, yea! though he lose +his host to a man, yet will he fight with him to the death." + +The Prince was so confounded by these tidings that he had not a word to +say for himself. Kucsuk's forces were scarcely a fifth part of Kemeny's, +and, moreover, they were still exhausted by their forced marches. To +expect a victory under such circumstances was to look for miracles. + +"Let us make up our minds for the worst and trust in God," said Stephen +Apafi; and, under the circumstances, this was perhaps the most sensible +thing that could have been said. + +So Michael Apafi let things take their own course. If any one had a mind +to guard the walls he was free to do so. So the commanders left the +soldiers to their own devices, and the soldiers did nothing at all. The +fate of the realm lay in God's hands in the fullest sense of the word, +for man had withdrawn his hand from it altogether. One thing, however, +the Prince did. He sent old Cserey up to the top of the church tower +that he might keep a good look-out, and come and tell his master the +moment he saw troops approaching. + + * * * * * + +John Kemeny had established himself at Nagy Szlls, which is a few +hours' journey from Segesvar. He had fixed his head-quarters at the +parsonage there, and to this day the little room is pointed out in which +he slept for the last time, as well as the round hillock in the garden, +where stood at that time a pretty little wooden summer-house in which +the Prince began the dinner which he never finished. + +The Hungarian gentlemen had a long debate with Wenzinger and the Prince +about the plan of campaign. Some were for taking the town by storm, +others preferred starving it out by a blockade. + +Wenzinger shook his head. + +"Allow me, gentlemen, to express my opinion also," said the experienced +German. "I am an old soldier. I have knocked about in all manner of +campaigns; I know the value of numbers in war, but also the value of +position, and well understand how to weigh the one against the other. I +have learnt by experience that one hundred men under favourable +conditions are often more than a match for a thousand. I also know how +enthusiasm or indifference can multiply or diminish numbers. I can also +calculate the relative importance of the various kinds of arms; nor is +the military value of patriotism an unknown quantity to me. Now we have +ten thousand men, and there are not more than three thousand opposed to +us. But we must not lose sight of the fact, that the greater part of our +Hungarian forces consists of cavalry, and to storm walls with cavalry is +clearly impossible. Scarcely less impossible is it to persuade the +mounted Hungarians to fight on foot. I would further remark, that +although the Hungarian is a veritable hero when he stands face to face +with a foreign foe, nevertheless, whenever I have seen him called upon +to fight against his own countrymen (and often enough have I had that +opportunity) he becomes as slothful and indifferent as if he were only +awaiting the first pretext for taking to his heels. Then, again, we +possess a troop of Servians, whom I consider very good shots, and if we +only had them safely behind the walls of that town we might buckle to it +against a ten-fold superiority; but outside fortifications these people +are scarcely worth anything: they are strong enough to defend, but not +strong enough to storm a bastion. We ought therefore to demolish the +walls as soon as possible: but then, again, we have no cannon, and would +have to send as far as Temesvar for our field-artillery, and while they +were on their way to us along the vile roads--and of course it is a +further question whether the commandant there would send them at all at +our bidding--Ali Pasha would have time to return with fresh troops, and +we should lose all our labour. I consider, therefore, that we ought not +to remain here any longer. We are incapable of conquering that fortress +either by assault or blockade. We cannot, on the other hand, suppose +that the enemy would be insane enough to be lured into the open field. +The most prudent thing, therefore, that we can do under such +circumstances, is to set out for Hungary without delay, collect +reinforcements and artillery, and then endeavour to force the enemy to +an engagement." + +Kemeny, little accustomed to listen to such lengthy discourses, could +scarcely wait till Wenzinger paused, and, as if the whole plan of +campaign deserved not the slightest thought, he now interrupted him with +frivolous impatience. + +"Mr. General, leave all that till the afternoon. After dinner we shall +see everything in quite another light." + +"No, not after dinner," blustered the German. "No time is to be lost. We +are in the midst of war, where every hour is precious; not at a Diet, +where matters may be debated for years together." + +At this sally the Hungarian gentlemen laughed heartily, seized Wenzinger +by the arm, and dragged him off to the banquet, joking all the way. +"There will be lots of time after dinner!" cried they. + +"Well, well," said Wenzinger, half in jest and half in anger; "it is a +fine thing, no doubt, to have soldiers who will do everything but obey +your orders!" + +Not another word did he speak at table, but he drank all the more. + +In the midst of these table-joys, John Uzdi, the commander of the +skirmishers, stepped into the Prince's pavilion with a terrified +countenance, and scarce able to speak for excitement. + +"Your Highness! I see great clouds of dust approaching from the +direction of Segesvar!" + +The Prince turned his head towards the messenger, and said with comic +phlegm-- + +"If it gives you any satisfaction to stare at your clouds of dust, pray +go on looking at them as long as you please!" + +But Wenzinger sprang from his seat. + +"I should like to have a look at them myself," cried he, hastily +ordering his heavy charger to be saddled; "possibly the enemy has come +out to entice us nearer." + +The others did not trouble themselves about the matter, but continued to +make merry. + +In a few minutes, however, back came Wenzinger, unable to conceal the +secret joy which a professional soldier always feels when his plan is +about to succeed. + +"Victory, gentlemen!" cried he. "The enemy is marching against us in +force. If it is not merely a diversion, and he really means business, +the day is ours." + +Some of the gentlemen at once rose from their seats and began buckling +on their swords. The Prince, however, remained sitting. + +"Are they still a good way off?" he indolently inquired of Wenzinger. + +"Scarcely half-an-hour's march!" exclaimed the latter with sparkling +eyes. + +"Then let them come a little nearer still, and in the meantime sit down +by our side." + +"I'll be damned if I do!" cried the general angrily. "As it is, I have +scarcely time enough to marshal my forces." + +"But why marshal them at all? Let them advance upon the enemy _en +masse_, that he may be terrified out of his life at the bare sight of +them." + +"Yes, but I don't want to scare them away, I want rather to surround +them. I shall confront them with one-half the host, the rest I shall +distribute as follows: one division shall creep through the maize-fields +and cut off the enemy's retreat to the town; another shall attack him in +flank from above the mill-dam; a third shall remain behind in reserve. +Your Highness will join the reserve with your Court." + +"What!" cried Kemeny, deeply offended, "I in the reserve! The proper +place for an Hungarian Prince is always the fore-front of the battle!" + +"That was all very well formerly; but in a general engagement, such +precious personages require constant looking after, lest any accident +befall them, and are only in the commander's way, and seriously +interfere with his tactics. If, however, your Highness expressly desires +it, I will surrender my bton to you at once, and take my place in the +ranks. Here there is only room for one generalissimo!" + +"Keep your place and take what measures you please, but pray let me +choose my own position. That need not interfere with you in the least." + +And Kemeny, with a few other gentlemen, remained at table. + +Wenzinger had scarcely made the necessary preparations when word was +brought to the Prince that the army was in battle array. Then Kemeny +stood up with imperturbable _sangfroid_ and buckled on his sword, but +refused to wear armour. + +"Why should I?" cried he. "Do you suppose that the heart beats more +courageously behind a coat of mail?" + +So they brought him his most stately charger, whose restive head two +stalwart grooms could only hold with difficulty. The coal-black, +fiery-eyed steed plunged and reared; its nostrils snorted steam; white +frothy flakes fell from its mouth all over its breast; its long waving +tail reached almost to the ground. + +Kemeny swung himself into the saddle, drew his sword, and galloped to +the front. Every one was amazed at his skilful horsemanship; he seemed +to have been grafted on to his stallion, so perfectly did all his +movements correspond with its gambols. On reaching the front, the +stately charger fell into a mincing pace, sharply striking the ground +behind it with its prancing hoofs, and nodding its head as if saluting +the host, which broke with one accord into a loud shout of "Eljen!" At +the same instant the Prince's horse stumbled and plunged violently +forward on both knees at once. The silver bit in its mouth snapped in +two, and it was only his extraordinary skill and dexterity which saved +the Prince from flying headlong. + +His suite came hastening to his side. + +"That is a bad omen, your Highness!" stammered Alexius Bethlen. "Your +Highness should mount another horse." + +"'Tis not a bad omen," replied Kemeny, "for my horse has not thrown me." + +"Nevertheless, your Highness, it would be well to change your mount. +That horse is frightened, and will do nothing but rear." + +"I mean to keep my seat, if only to show that omens have neither meaning +nor terror for me," said Kemeny defiantly; and he ordered the broken bit +to be replaced by another. At the same instant Kucsuk Pasha's trumpets +sounded a charge. + + * * * * * + +The Turkish cavalry formed a half-moon with the horns turned outwards. +Kucsuk himself rode in the centre. + +The Pasha on this occasion wore an unusually splendid costume. His +kaftan was of rich-flowered silk wrought with gold; beneath the kaftan +peeped forth a dolman of cloth of gold; a costly oriental shawl +encircled his loins; his scimitar, buckled on behind, sparkled with +gems; a ger-falcon's plume, fastened by a diamond agraffe, waved from +his turban. His charger, a fiery barb with slender head, long, twisted +mane, and black flying tail, threw back its head proudly and shook its +richly-fringed saddle-cloth. A sort of gold netting surrounded its whole +body, from the fringes of which depended numbers of large, jingling, +golden half-moons. + +As soon as Kucsuk Pasha perceived Kemeny's troops, he dismounted, threw +himself with his face to the ground, thrice kissed the earth, thrice +raised himself on his knees, uplifted his face devoutly to heaven, and +called upon the name of Allah. Then he remounted his horse; sent for his +son; tore one of the falcon feathers out of his turban, and sticking it +in the youthful hero's, said--"Go now to the left wing of the host, and +fight as becomes a man of valour! For 'tis better that thou shouldst +fall by the hand of the enemy, and lie dead before me, than that thou +shouldst fly, and this my sword" (here he smote the scimitar by his side +with his fist) "should slay thee!" + +Feriz Beg reverentially bowed his head, kissed the hem of his father's +kaftan, and proudly galloped to the post assigned to him, feeling that +every eye was fixed upon the falcon's feather which his father had +fastened to his turban. + +The Pasha now rode along the ranks and addressed these words to his +cavalry-- + +"My brave fellows! the enemy is before you! I say not whether they be +many or few--you can see for yourselves. They are indeed many times more +numerous than we; but trust in Allah, and fight valiantly! It is more +honourable to die here sword in hand than to fly like cowards. We are in +the midst of Transylvania. He who flies will fall by the sword of the +pursuer ere he reaches the frontier, and he who escapes the pursuer will +fall by the bowstring of the Padishah. We have no other choice but +victory or death!" + +Then he turned to the Wallachs. Them he addressed with harsh and +wrathful words. + +"You dogs, you! I know right well that you are ready to bolt at the +first shot; but know that I have ordered the troops behind you to +instantly cut every one of you down who so much as looks backward." Then +the Pasha, placing himself at the head of his host, waved his naked +sword for the trumpets to blow, and glancing once more along the lines, +saw the Moorish troops who stood behind him, with melon-shaped, +copper-plated helmets, making ready to fire their long muskets. + +"What are you doing?" growled the Pasha. "Away with your muskets! The +enemy has more of them than we. We shall only need our swords. Let every +one charge boldly upon the foe, ducking his head down over his +saddle-bow the moment I give the signal, and then gallop forward without +hesitation!" + +The host did as it was commanded. The Moors slung their funnel-shaped +muskets over their shoulders, drew their broad scimitars, and trotted +forward in the footsteps of the Pasha. + +Kemeny's troops, like a wall of steel confronted them, the musketeers in +the first line, the lanzknechts behind. In the centre stood Wenzinger, +on the right wing John Kemeny. The flanking troops were creeping +stealthily on behind the mill-dam and among the maize-fields in order to +take the foe in the rear. + +When the Turkish army had come within gunshot distance of Kemeny's +forces, Kucsuk Pasha suddenly turned round and glanced fiercely back, +right and left, upon his soldiers, who immediately ducked their heads +over their horses' necks, tightly grasped their swords, used their spurs +freely, and dashed like a whirlwind upon their opponents. + +"Allah! Allah! il-Allah!" thrice sounded from the lips of the charging +Turks, and simultaneously John Kemeny's musketeers gave the attacking +horsemen a point-blank enfilade, which for a moment enveloped their +ranks in smoke. But in those days musketry fire did little harm; it was +far more noisy than dangerous. So now too only a couple of Turks or so +glided out of their saddles, dragging their horses down with them; the +rest galloped forward with a howl of fury. + +Wenzinger, perceiving that his arquebusiers had no time to load again, +immediately ordered his lanzknechts to advance. Now if these troops +could only have kept back the Turkish cavalry till the arquebusiers had +managed to reload, or till the flanking squadrons had come up and fallen +upon the enemy, Kemeny would no doubt have won the battle. But the ranks +of the lanzknechts collapsed at the very first onset, and after (to do +them justice) a really desperate resistance, were mostly cut to pieces, +whereupon the helpless musketeers took to their heels _en masse_, and +threw their whole army into great confusion. + +Wenzinger now tried to restore order by commanding the whole line to +fall back, and had his command been properly obeyed, the engagement +might perhaps have had a different issue. But the cavalry, which the +Prince led in person, obeying his proud counter-orders to remain where +they were, were left fighting single-handed against the divisions +opposed to them, when the rest of the army had already changed its +position. + +The Pasha immediately left off pursuing the panic-stricken musketeers +and fell with all his might upon Kemeny, who, attacked simultaneously in +front and in flank, altogether lost his head; and as there was neither +time nor space for an orderly retreat, wildly cut his way through the +first opening which presented itself, not perceiving in his confusion +that he was riding down his own retreating infantry, for the cavalry, +galloping frantically into the newly-formed ranks, trod their own people +under-foot, frustrated the last hope of forming a reserve, and threw the +whole army into hopeless disorder. The infantry threw down their arms +and fled in all directions before their own and the enemy's cavalry, +which followed, helter-skelter, on each other's heels, trampling to +death all who came in their way. Neither the skill of the general nor +the self-sacrifice of a handful of heroes was able to restore the +battle. The wild flight of one part of the army had demoralized the +other. The battle was irretrievably lost. + +Amidst the general rout the Prince also found himself a fugitive. As he +had stood in the fore-front of the battle during the fight, he naturally +found himself now among the hindmost in the flight, and could scarcely +escape from his pursuers for the press in front. The Turks were +everywhere on the heels of the fugitives, and mercilessly cut down all +whom they could reach. A Turkish youth was following the Prince like his +shadow, and as the boy's steed had very much less to carry, speedily +came up with him. The falcon feather in his turban enables us to +recognize Feriz Beg, Kucsuk Pasha's son. + +The face of the youthful hero glowed with excitement, but the face of +the Prince was dark with rage and shame. He frequently looked behind him +and gnashed his teeth. "To fly perforce before a child! Shame, oh, +shame!" Again and again he tried to stop, but his frenzied steed tore +him along with it. + +Meanwhile the youngster had come near enough to reach him with his +scimitar. At first the Prince disdained to defend himself against his +puny foe; but the latter, becoming more and more audacious in his +attacks, he at last drew his sword and parried his blows. + +"Avaunt, you little bastard!" cried Kemeny, foaming with rage, "for if I +do turn round, I'll deal you a blow that will knock all your baby teeth +down your throat." + +But now a bound of his horse brought Feriz alongside of the Prince, and +regarding Kemeny with flashing eyes, he aimed a blow at his neck with +his supple Damascus blade; while Kemeny, with a lowering countenance, +seized his sword with both hands, and dealt a tremendous backward blow +with all his might which was meant to cut his presumptuous young +assailant in two. It was as though a young eagle had brought a flying +panther to bay, and forced him to a life-and-death struggle. At the +moment when both swords sped hissing through the air, Kemeny's horse +again stumbled and fell forward with a broken foot, causing Kemeny's +blow to fall wide, and strike not Feriz but Feriz' horse's head, which +it clove in twain, while Feriz' blow flashed down upon the Prince's +forehead. + +The Prince as he sank from his horse looked darkly up into the face of +his youthful opponent. The blood flowed in streams from his frowning +forehead. Once more he gave his horse the spur, but the maimed beast +only reared on its hind legs, fell over with its sinking rider, and both +were instantly trampled under-foot by the enemy's cavalry. + +In the wild rout no one noticed the spot where the Prince had fallen. It +was only after many days that his torn and tattered mantle and his +broken sword were offered for sale in the market-place of Segesvar by +Turkish hucksters, purchased by Michael Apafi, now sole Prince of +Transylvania, and subsequently preserved in his museum at Fogaros. Apafi +also ordered search to be made on the battle-field for the corpse of +the fallen Prince in order to give it decent and honourable burial, but +no one could recognize his body among the naked and mutilated slain. + + * * * * * + +The battle won, Kucsuk by a flourish of trumpets recalled his squadrons +from pursuing the beaten foe. The Turkish horsemen came galloping back +at once, quite contrary to the usual practice of Turkish armies, which +are generally as much demoralized after a victory as the vanquished +themselves. Kucsuk had inured them to the strictest discipline. + +Back they came, black with smoke and red with blood, but the bloodiest +of all was Feriz Beg. His mantle was riddled with bullets, and the horse +he rode was the third that he had mounted since the action began, two +had already been killed under him. + +Kucsuk, without a word, embraced his son, kissed him on the forehead, +fastened his own Nishan Order on his breast, and exchanged swords with +him, then the highest conceivable distinction. + +Ferhad Aga, the leader of the right wing, was brought dead, on a litter +of lances, before the general. His body bore wounds of every shape and +size; he was literally covered with gunshot wounds, sabre-cuts, and +lance-thrusts. + +Kucsuk sprang from his horse, bent weeping over the corpse, covered it +with kisses, and swore by Allah that he would not have given this man's +life for the whole of Transylvania. + +Nor would he enter the town till Ferhad had been buried. The dervishes +immediately surrounded the dead man, washed him, wrapped him in fragrant +linen, and the Pasha himself sought out for him a sunny spot in the +midst of a little grove. There they buried him with his face turned +towards the east, and with a pennant fluttering on a lance's head over +his grassy grave. And for three days sentinels watched over him, to +prevent the accursed Jins from mutilating the corpse of the dead hero. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE PRINCESS. + + +After the fatal day of Nagy Szlls, the faithful followers of John +Kemeny fled to Hungary, and transferred their allegiance to Simon +Kemeny, the son of the fallen Prince. But a sinking cause has few +friends, and while the younger Kemeny's party rapidly diminished, +Apafi's as rapidly increased. His victory had assured his position, and +won for him all the great men of the land--the governors of the towns, +the magnates, the commandants of the fortresses--in short, it was a race +who should do him homage first, all the Estates of the Realm recognized +him as Prince. + +Only a few fortresses, where Kemeny had placed German garrisons, still +held out, Klausenburg among the number. + +Kucsuk Pasha, whose army meanwhile had been reinforced, brought Apafi +beneath the walls of that city, and pitched his tent at Hidelve over +against the old town, then a mere heap of straw huts, and there the new +Prince held his first reception. + +The morning had scarcely dawned when Apafi's tent was besieged by a host +of visitors, petitioners, and liegemen. The Prince, enchanted at the +delightful novelty of a position which enabled him to gratify +everybody's desires, could not find it in his heart to say no to +anybody. Nalaczi and Daczo were there before he had finished putting on +his boots, and introduced a whole mob of persons anxious to pay their +respects, who were waiting with smiling faces at the tent door. Apafi +made haste with his toilet in order that none should be kept waiting. He +was anxious to oblige every one. + +Amongst the first who elbowed their way in was Count Ladislaus Csaky. +He came to offer his son as a page to the Prince, the self-same son who +had filled and refilled John Kemeny's glass a few weeks before. Apafi +could scarcely find words to express his gratitude for such an offer. + +Next came Master Gabriel Haller, who seemed as if he would really never +leave off bowing and scraping, and addressed an eloquent oration to +Apafi, every tenth word of which was a title of honour. Apafi could +scarcely conceal his childish joy at being called your Highness, and +invited Master Gabriel Haller to dinner straight off. + +A das was then placed in the back part of the tent, which the modest +Prince absolutely refused to mount, till his brother Stephen used gentle +violence, and even then he insisted on rising to receive every suitor, +and accompanied him to the door at the end of each audience. + +Petitioners, homagers, and visitors of every description kept coming and +going one by one. + +By Apafi's side stood Nalaczi, Daczo, Stephen Apafi, and John Cserey, +whom his Highness urged repeatedly to be seated. + +After receiving the oaths of allegiance, on which occasion the +commandants of the fortresses placed the keys of their strongholds in +the Prince's hands, it was the turn of the petitioners to be introduced. + +First came Master Martin Pok, the jailer of Fogaros, with the humble +petition that he might be appointed the governor of that fortress, +inasmuch as the former governor had fled to Simon Kemeny. + +Apafi promised to bear him in mind. + +Next came Master John Szasy, the chief magistrate of Hermannstadt, +complaining, with tears in his eyes, that his fellow-citizens were +persecuting him, and throwing himself on the Prince's protection. + +Apafi at once took him under his wing. + +Then followed Master Moses Zagoni, who begged the Prince to let him off +a certain balance in his accounts which had been outstanding from +Kemeny's time. + +Him too Apafi sent away comforted. + +Last of all came a thick-set, sturdy Szekler, in a short sheep-skin +jacket, who called himself the representative of Olahfalva; did homage +to Apafi in the name of his district, and preferred two very peculiar +petitions, to wit: that from henceforth Olahfalva should be declared to +be only _two_ miles from Klausenburg (the real distance between the two +places is, as we all know, more than twenty); and secondly, that it +should be legally enacted that he who had no horse should go on foot. + +The Prince laughingly complied with both of these extraordinarily +ludicrous requests, which put him into such a good humour that an +itinerant scholar, Clement by name, a crooked-nosed, long-legged +individual, wrapped from head to foot in a fox-skin mantle, made bold to +approach Apafi, and present him on his knees with a huge parchment roll +which he had been holding in his hand for some time, and which the +Prince, not without extraneous help, now took and unfolded. Inside it he +read the whole genealogical record of the Apafis, painted on a +green-leaved family-tree, whereby his family was brought into connection +with the illustrious Bethlen and Bathory families; traced back to King +Samuel Aba, from him again to Huba, one of the seven original leaders of +the Magyars, and thence ascending still further, first to Attila's +youngest son Csaka, and from him in the female line to the daughter of +the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus, but in the male line to Nimrod, +the first recorded earthly king. + +This fulsome piece of flattery seemed to somewhat annoy Apafi; but as he +could not quite make up his mind to kick the impertinent poet out of the +tent, he resolved to be quit of him with a handful of ducats, and placed +the genealogical tree behind him by way of a prop. + +Nevertheless the Prince's good-humour was not in the least disturbed. He +seemed to feel it his bounden duty to treat every one who approached him +with peculiar graciousness and condescension, and after listening +patiently to the last of his many petitioners, he turned to Messrs. +Nalaczi and Daczo, who stood by his side, and said-- + +"Is there absolutely nothing I can do for you? How shall I requite the +fidelity with which you have stood by me from the very first?" + +Nalaczi and Daczo had long been racking their brains as to what _they_ +should ask of the Prince. Their chief anxiety was lest they should ask +too little. + +"I leave the reward of my poor services to the benevolence of your +Highness," said Nalaczi: but he thought within himself that the Szeklers +needed another Captain-General in the place of Beldi. + +"The little I have been fortunate enough to do for your Highness is, in +my opinion, not even worth mentioning," declared Daczo; but it did +occur to him at the same time that the post of Governor of Klausenburg, +vacant by the flight of Banfi, was just the very thing for him. + +Apafi looked at them benignly, and no doubt would have created both +these worthy but not particularly capable gentlemen privy-counsellors at +the very least, when, unfortunately for them, a hubbub outside here +interrupted the conversation, and the body-guards, drawing aside the +curtains of the tent, admitted Kucsuk Pasha. + +The Prince sprang from his seat at once, and would have gone to meet +him, had not Stephen Apafi pulled him by the mantle and whispered in his +ear-- + +"Keep up your dignity in the presence of the Turk. He is only a +subaltern Pasha, while you are the sovereign Prince of Transylvania." + +Despite this admonition Apafi did not feel quite at his ease till Kucsuk +had beckoned to him to be seated, and although the Turk remained +standing in the presence of the Prince, there was this difference +between them, that whereas Apafi's face expressed nothing but affability +and condescension, Kucsuk's was all haughtiness and dignity. + +"How can I show my gratitude for the labours and perils you have +undergone on my behalf?" asked Apafi with genuine enthusiasm. + +"Not to me but to my imperial master are thy thanks due," replied Kucsuk +dryly. "I did but do his will when I set thee on the throne of +Transylvania. With God's help I have scattered thy enemies, only a +fortress here and there still holds out. I shall have done my whole duty +when I have captured them; the rest lies with thee. To-morrow I shall +besiege Klausenburg, and, cost what it may, I shall not rest till the +town is taken. When that has fallen the others will follow of their own +accord." + +"Should I not also call out the provincial banderia[17]?" inquired +Apafi. + + [Footnote 17: _Banderia._ The mounted gentry of the + county.] + +"I need them not," replied Kucsuk; "let them remain at home and look +after their own affairs. My own troops will do everything." + +Apafi was about to thank the Pasha for his magnanimity, when suddenly he +became aware that every one was looking towards one of the +side-entrances of the tent, through which some one had just entered +without being announced. + +The Prince also looked round in the same direction, and what he then saw +before him made him forget instantly Transylvania, Kucsuk Pasha, +Klausenburg, and everything else, for before him stood his beautiful and +majestic consort, Anna Bornemissa. + +It was indeed a queenly apparition. + +That commanding countenance, which seemed to exact homage, how affably +yet how proudly it could glance around! In her dress there was no trace +of pomp; but was there any need of gems where such speaking eyes flashed +and sparkled? Did that royal form require velvet or ermine to lend it +majesty? + +It was the first time that Apafi had seen her since his departure. She +had risen from her child-bed twice as lovely as before. Renewed +happiness and comfort had invested her features with a sort of +transparent brightness. Her eyes, dimmed no longer by tears of sorrow, +flashed with a purer radiance than before. Her lips, which had long +known nought but joy, smiled still more sweetly. Her figure had gained +in fullness and roundness without losing in symmetry, and the confident, +self-conscious dignity visible in all her features and all her movements +well became her majestic form. + +Apafi, forgetting all dignity and decorum when he saw his consort, +sprang from his seat, rushed towards her, seized her hand, drew the +enchanting lady to his breast, just as he used to do when he was a +simple squire, and kissed her mouth and cheeks so heartily that the +assembled Estates of the Realm had auricular demonstration of the fact. + +Anna nestled closely to her husband's breast, and her lips tenderly +returned his salutations; but her large, earnest eyes seemed to be +scrutinizing over her husband's shoulder the faces of all who were +present, and her gaze rested for an instant on each one of them. + +These connubial caresses seemed likely to have no end so far as Apafi +was concerned--his wife was worth more to him than all Transylvania with +the appurtenances thereof--till Anna disengaged herself from his arms +with a smile, and said merrily-- + +"You lavish the outpourings of your heart on me alone, but there is some +one else here who claims his share too;" and with that she beckoned to +Dame Sarah, who had followed her mistress into the tent with a beaming +countenance, and now unwrapped before Apafi's eyes a pretty sleeping +babe, whom the good nurse had been dangling about in a piece of silken +tapestry. + +Beside himself for joy, Apafi took the child in his arms and kissed its +little round cherub face again and again. The child awaking, allowed +itself to be kissed and hugged without uttering a cry, and snatched with +its plump little be-ribboned arms at papa's beard, which naturally gave +papa indescribable delight. + +The gentlemen standing around considered it their bounden duty to +congratulate the Prince on his parental felicity, who, drunk with joy, +exhibited his son to them and said-- + +"Look how serious he is. He doesn't even cry. What a perfect little man +it is!" + +Meanwhile Anna beckoned to Stephen Apafi, and whispered to him-- + +"I am sure the gentlemen will not take it ill if the Prince's family +concerns and joys withdraw him for a few moments from public affairs." + +"Your Highness has taken the words out of my mouth," replied Stephen. "I +was just about to say the same thing to the gentlemen myself;" and +turning towards the courtiers, he begged them to leave the Prince for a +few moments in the bosom of his family, and meanwhile withdraw into the +antechamber. + +The gentlemen considered the request only natural, and at once retired, +obsequiously giving precedence as they went to Kucsuk Pasha. + +No sooner did Anna find herself alone with her consort, than she took +the child from his arms, gave it back to Sarah, and sent them both away. +Apafi now approached her with fresh demonstrations of tenderness, but +she took him by the hand, gazed earnestly into his eyes, and said-- + +"It is to the Prince of Transylvania that I have come!" + +Apafi was somewhat chilled by her steady look; but she, perceiving it, +nestled closely up to him again, and said kindly-- + +"I was beginning to suspect that the Prince might have more need of me +than the husband." Then she added with a smile full of irresistible +grace--"I hope you will not misconstrue my good intentions." + +Apafi embraced his wife, and made her sit down by his side. The chair of +state was large enough to accommodate them both. It is true that the +pretty wife had to sit half upon her husband's knee, but that certainly +did not inconvenience either of them. + +"You are right," said Apafi; "it is well that you are here. When I don't +see you I always feel that I lack something. At any rate you deserve to +be nearest to my heart, and I'll venture to set your judgment against +the judgment of any of the gentlemen surrounding me." + +"Who are all these gentlemen?" asked Anna. + +"You must know them all by name. The lanky man is Ladislaus Csaky, who +offers me his son as a page." + +"He loses no time about it! A very little while ago the lad was John +Kemeny's page." + +Apafi began to look glum. + +"The man with the large moustaches is Gabriel Haller." + +Anna smote her hands together in amazement. + +"What! he here too?" + +"What have you to find fault with in him?" + +"I'll tell you. He has always been the spy of your enemies. He brought +Kemeny the first tidings of your installation, and of Kucsuk Pasha's +arrival at Segesvar." + +Apafi's features grew still darker. + +"And I have invited the gentleman to dinner!" he murmured between his +teeth. + +"And why are Messrs. Nalaczi and Daczo so familiar with you? Do they +want anything?" + +"They are my faithful followers, who have stood by my side from the very +first." + +"But pray don't on that account make them the highest personages in the +land. Simple, ignorant men in responsible positions are far more +dangerous to a state than open but enlightened foes. Reward them by all +means, but only in proportion to their abilities." + +"I'll do so," replied the harassed Prince; and during the remainder of +the interview he tried hard to uphold his conjugal supremacy, but Anna +would not let the subject drop. + +"And Master John Szasy, what does he do here? for I saw him too." + +"The poor fellow is persecuted," returned Apafi, who began to find the +joke a little tiresome. + +"Evil rumours are abroad about that man. People say of him--and they say +it pretty loudly--that he has young Saxon girls abducted for him, and +after sacrificing them to his brutal lusts, removes them out of the way +by poison. The parents of the girls have indicted this man, and he +fancies he will escape exposure by fawning upon you." + +Apafi sprang wrathfully from his seat. + +"If that be so, I will show Master Szasy the door; he shall find no +shelter beneath my mantle." + +"And what brought that honest, tattered Szekler hither?" asked Anna, who +had evidently made up her mind to know everything. "I like not his +crafty face at all. The Szekler is always most dangerous when he puts on +the garb of simplicity." + +The Prince was suddenly seized with a paroxysm of mirth, he could +scarcely speak for laughing. + +"That was the representative of Olahfalva," said he. + +At the mention of this place even Anna could not forbear from smiling. + +"The good folks of Olahfalva," continued Apafi, still laughing, "who +carry people to church in sheets and beat watches to death!" + +"I fear me the poor people are very much maligned. They are called +simple, but methinks their ways are altogether crooked and crafty." + +"But is it not true then that they carry ladders horizontally through +the woods?" + +"Yes; but why? You shall hear. Their Captain-General had forbidden them +to waste the woods, but at the same time sent them out to pull down +crows' nests; so to get at the nests they carried the ladders +horizontally through the woods to have an excuse for hewing down every +tree that stood in their way." + +"Well explained! But at least you will not deny that in hilly districts +they never plough to the end of their fields for fear that if they go +right to the margin the earth will tilt over with them." + +"They do that because the margin is of a rocky consistency which no +ploughshare will penetrate." + +"Then what do you say of their custom of choosing to represent them at +the Diet those amongst them upon whom their obsolete, short skin-jackets +sit the best? I'll swear I saw the self-same jacket now worn by the +Olahfalva deputy at the Diet of Klausenburg twelve years ago, only then +it was on some one else's shoulders." + +"The good folks think," returned the Princess, "that a deputy to the +Diet need say little or nothing, but that the coat in which he has to +sit for hours ought to be as comfortable as possible." + +"You seem to know the reason of everything. But, come now! explain, if +you can, the signification of the promises which this Szekler has got +out of me. He petitioned for two things: first, that the distance +between Olahfalva and Klausenburg should henceforth be declared to be +only two miles." + +"Oh! _sancta simplicitas_!" cried Anna. "They have a charter which +permits them to offer their timber for sale at any place within two +miles of their district; they are consequently anxious to have the +Klausenburg market thrown open to them." + +"I really believe you are right," returned Apafi, in a tone of +conviction. "I now begin to suspect their second petition, although it +seems to me to have no special connection with their community. They +desire it to be legally enacted that he who has no horse shall +henceforth be obliged to go on foot." + +"I have it!" cried Anna, after a moment's reflection. "Olahfalva has +recently been made a post station, and the couriers passing through the +place have therefore the right to demand fresh horses there. Now the +good people begin to find this new obligation onerous, and therefore +want a law passed to compel the couriers to make their pilgrimages +through Olahfalva on foot." + +Apafi stamped angrily on the ground. + +"The impudent rascal! To presume to jest with me in such a way! Well, +you shall see how I'll make them grin on the other side of their faces. +But is it not about time to re-admit the gentlemen?" + +"One word more, Apafi," said Anna gently, placing her velvety arms on +her husband's shoulder. "I observed Kucsuk Pasha among your liegemen; I +presume he came to take his leave?" + +Apafi threw back his head much perplexed. + +"Not at all! Don't you know that we are here to capture Klausenburg? It +is Kucsuk's business to take it." + +"Michael!" cried the Princess, in a tone of tearful supplication. "Do +you mean to say that you will suffer a Turkish garrison in Klausenburg? +Do you forget that the Osmanlis are always loth to relinquish any +Hungarian stronghold that they once get possession of? Do you not +recollect that Klausenburg is the capital of your realm, and those who +dwell within its walls are your own people, your own compatriots, your +own co-religionists? And you would expose them to the horrors of an +assault? The Turks may be your allies, but after all they are heathens +and aliens, whom you should not allow to play havoc with your people. +Did not your heart sink within you when you saw the walls of +Klausenburg? Could you behold those towers, those houses, without +reflecting that there are the homes of your fellow-countrymen and the +churches of your God, into which the besiegers would hurl their +firebrands? Could you look at those ramparts without perceiving crowds +of mothers holding their babes in their arms, and declaring to you that +your own people--an innocent, loyal, honest people--dwell therein? And +you would hold your triumphal entry into the capital of your country +over the mutilated bodies of these women and children?" + +Apafi rose from his seat. His forehead was bathed with sweat. +Involuntary remorse was legible on his troubled countenance. + +"No, Anna; I don't wish it. How can you think me so heartless? What! I, +who could never endure the tears of a single woman, should remain deaf +to the lamentations of a whole nation? But what am I to do? I meant to +have called out the banderia to invest the town, and so compel the +garrison to surrender; but how shall I set about it with Kucsuk Pasha in +the way? He is determined to storm the town, I know not how to prevent +him." + +"Be easy on that score. The commanders of the Turkish troops in +Transylvania have received firmans[18] ordering them to instantly rejoin +the army of the Grand Vizier at rsekjvr. Kucsuk too has doubtless +received such a firman." + + [Footnote 18: _Firman._ A decree issued by the Sultan + and proclaimed by the Grand Vizier.] + +"I was not aware of it. That is why he wants to press on the assault, I +suppose?" + +"A similar mandate is already on its way to you from the Divan,[19] and +by pretending that this mandate has already reached you, it will be easy +to induce the Pasha in a friendly way to raise the siege of +Klausenburg." + + [Footnote 19: _Divan._ The Sultan's council.] + +"I will try, Anna; I will try!" cried Apafi, walking up and down the +tent. "I owe it to my people, and I would rather turn my back upon these +walls than force my way through them with fire and sword." + +"But you must not turn your back upon them," replied the discreet lady; +"there are ways and means of getting possession of the fortress without +having recourse to fire and sword." + +Apafi stood still and looked inquiringly at his wife. She drew him +closer to her and whispered in his ear-- + +"Before coming to Klausenburg, I secretly instructed the well-disposed +within the town to try and bring the garrison over to our side. This +morning our spies have brought us word that the infantry is ready, at +the first sound of the trumpet from without, to open the gates and go +over to us with bag and baggage. The cavalry by itself will be unable to +offer any resistance." + +"My dear!" cried Apafi in astonishment, "you are really a born +princess." + +Anna took her husband softly by the arm, led him to the das, and made +him sit down. + +"The sceptre is no plaything, Apafi," said she earnestly. "Never forget +that posterity will sit in judgment on princes. A ruler's every act and +word may mean the ruin or the salvation of thousands. Think of that in +all you do and say. And now, God be with you. Be firm!" + +Anna, with an exalted look, kissed the Prince on the forehead. At that +very moment her eye fell on the parchment roll of the itinerant scholar. + +"What plan of campaign is this?" cried she, taking up the parchment. + +Apafi would have snatched it from her, but it was too late; Anna had +already unrolled it, and after casting a rapid glance over the +lickspittling pedigree, looked with an expression of overwhelming +reproach at the discomfited Prince, who stood before her with downcast +eyes. + +"Did _you_ get any one to compose it?" she softly asked. + +"Certainly not," replied Apafi energetically; "a shameless poet brought +it to me." + +"Then throw it into the fire," replied his wife, much relieved. + +"That is just what I was going to do. I can then get rid of him with a +few ducats." + +"A few strokes with a whip would be much more appropriate," exclaimed +Anna wrathfully; but soon her features grew mild again, and steadfastly +regarding her husband she said to him kindly--"Be strong! Be a prince! +Protect the loyal! Forgive the repentant! Despise flatterers!" + +With that she curtseyed low, kissed her husband's hand, and had vanished +from the tent before he could return the salute. + +Apafi immediately called Cserey and commanded him to re-admit the +gentlemen, who were still waiting in the ante-chamber. + +On the countenances of the courtiers could be read, as plainly as if it +were written there, the persuasion that they might now ask for and +expect from the Prince anything they liked, on the presumption that the +blissful antecedent domestic scene had left him in a state of mental +flabbiness which could say no to nobody. Stephen Apafi was alone +sufficiently sober-minded to perceive the change which had come over his +brother's face in the meantime. Apafi's features now wore an expression +of dignity, firmness, and energy worthy of a prince. + +"My loyal friends," he cried, in a hard, firm voice, without waiting for +any one to address him. "As concerning the petitions preferred to us, we +would dismiss you with fit and proper answers. We accept your homage +with all due appreciation, and trust you will ever persevere in your +loyalty. You, Ladislaus Csaky, we permit to return home. We will no +longer deprive you of your family joys. As for your son, we will have +him educated abroad at our own cost, till he be suitable for our +service." + +Count Ladislaus Csaky, with a very wry face indeed, expressed his +gratitude for the Prince's gracious permission to return home, although +he would willingly have remained at Court all his life with the whole of +his family. + +Gabriel Haller the Prince passed over altogether, as if he absolutely +did not see him, but he turned pointedly towards Nalaczi and Daczo, who +made desperate efforts to appear meek and humble. + +"Having regard to the zeal and affection which our faithful Stephen +Nalaczi has always testified for our person, we appoint him herewith +first gentleman-in-waiting at our Court. And you, John Daczo, we appoint +commander of Csikszerda." + +Both gentlemen made the grimace usual in suitors who have expected much +and got little. Nalaczi smiled, but within he was all wormwood and gall. +Daczo tried to look contented, but he coloured up to the ears. They were +scarcely able to thank the Prince for his goodness. + +Meanwhile Master Pok, in order not to be left altogether out of sight, +had elbowed his way to the front, completely covering honest Cserey, who +modestly made way for him. + +Apafi beckoned to him, however. + +"Why do you keep so much in the background?" said he. + +Master Pok, under the impression that the hint was meant for him, drew +still nearer. + +"'Tis Master Cserey whom we address," continued the Prince, "or do you +think that we are unable to distinguish our faithful from our feigning +followers? Your fidelity and prudence, Master Cserey, are well known to +us, wherefore we appoint you forthwith governor of our fortress of +Fogaros." + +In his consternation Master Pok looked up at the ceiling as if he +expected it to fall on his head. + +"Master Martin Pok, on the other hand," pursued the Prince, "we confirm +in his former post. He will continue to be jailer at the same fortress." + +Master Martin Pok sobbed aloud. Cserey was about to raise objections, +but the Prince beckoned him to be silent. + +Next came Master John Szasy's turn. + +"You are accused of grievous crimes, from which we have neither the will +nor the power to absolve you. You will therefore be conveyed to +Hermannstadt with a strong escort, there to clear yourself as best you +can." + +John Szasy, with a stupefied air, looked first to the right and then to +the left. He could not understand it at all. + +"You, Master Moses Zagoni, we command to present your accounts for +examination to our officers of the Exchequer thereunto appointed." + +To hide his own confusion, Zagoni thought he could not do better than +whisper consolation to Szasy. + +The deputy of Olahfalva had now to take his turn. It was indeed high +time that something amusing should happen, for while the Prince had thus +been distributing rewards and punishments, the smile had gradually +vanished from every face; nothing short of the discomfiture of the +quaint and crafty boor could now restore the general hilarity. + +"What I promised you," said the Prince, scarcely able to repress his +inward merriment, "is yours. If it give you any satisfaction, you may +henceforth regard Olahfalva as only two miles distant from Klausenburg +instead of twenty; let him also who has no horse go on foot as you +desire. But we grant this with the express reservation that you are not +to take any timber to the market of Klausenburg, and that you always +give the couriers the necessary relays of horses." + +The Szekler grinned, shook his head, and then looked very hard at the +Prince, as if to find out how Apafi could possibly have got to the +bottom of his artifice. + +The wondering, puzzled face of the Olahfalvian was too much for Apafi's +gravity, and he burst into a loud guffaw, in which everybody present +joined him. The Szekler, whose face had hitherto worn a bewildered +smile, suddenly became quite serious, threw back his head defiantly, +cast a furious look around, half stripped off his short jacket, and +exclaimed-- + +"Harkye, gentlemen! If the Prince chooses to make merry with me, I +suffer it; but I'll trouble you all not to laugh so at my expense." + +The Prince beckoned to them to be silent, and diverted their attention +by calling forward the itinerant scholar Clement, who shambled up on his +long, lean legs, as if he were every moment about to fall on his knees. + +"We have commanded our treasurer," said the Prince, "to pay to you out +of our privy purse three _marias_[20] for the work which you have handed +to us." + + [Footnote 20: _Maria._ An old Hungarian coin worth + about thirty-five kreutzers.] + +"Your Highness was pleased to observe--" stammered the confounded poet. + +"You heard very well. I said three _marias_. That is about the value of +the writing materials which you have wasted upon this pedigree. Another +time employ your leisure more profitably." + +The Prince then signified that the audience was at an end. + +The gentlemen quitted the tent with many a deep obeisance. Kucsuk Pasha +alone remained behind. + +During the whole of this scene the Pasha had been shaking his head, as +if he had not expected all this from Apafi. He could not help remarking +too that Apafi now needed no one to remind him how to preserve his +princely dignity in the presence of others. Apafi wore an affable air; +but it was the affability of princely condescension. + +"We have learnt with regret," he began, turning towards the Pasha, "that +we must shortly lose you, whose valour we so much admire, whose +friendship we so much esteem." + +The Pasha looked up with astonishment. + +"What means your Highness?" + +"In consequence of a firman commanding the Transylvanian generals to +assemble in the camp of the Grand Vizier. We shall, alas! only see you +in our circle for a very short time." + +Kucsuk angrily bit his lips. + +"How could he have learnt that already?" he muttered. + +"We would willingly retain you, for your person is most dear to us; but +we know that the commands of the Padishah require instant submission. +Moreover, lest your devotion to us should draw down upon you the +displeasure of the Sublime Porte, we have taken such measures as will +bring the fortress of Klausenburg to capitulate without having resort to +an assault, thus releasing you from the troublesome obligation of +keeping your army here any longer. As to the confirmation of our +princely dignity, we will take care to settle all that with the Grand +Vizier, presumably at rsekjvr, whither we also are summoned." + +During this speech, Kucsuk had regarded the Prince fixedly and with +folded arms. Even when Apafi had finished speaking, he remained standing +in the same position without uttering a word. + +Apafi calmly continued-- + +"In order however to express our personal gratitude, however feebly, for +your services, we would have you accept from us this little gift more as +a token of our respect than as a reward." And with that the Prince took +from his neck a gold chain set with large brilliants, and hung it round +the Pasha's neck. + +Kucsuk still remained immovable. He searchingly scrutinized the Prince, +and wrinkled his brows. Then, all at once, he began to smile, and +shaking his head said slyly-- + +"It is well, Apafi, it is all excellently well. But I see that thou art +wont to commit thy understanding to the custody of thy wife. _Salem +aleikum!_ Peace be with thee!" + +And off went the Pasha, shaking his head all the way. + +But Apafi, with a lightened heart, hastened back to his wife. + +Master Gabriel Haller waited a very long time at the door of the tent, +till one of the bodyguards came out to inform him that the Prince would +dine that day in his family circle. + +Then he too shook his head and departed. + + * * * * * + +A couple of days later, with drums beating and banners waving, Prince +Michael Apafi made his triumphal entry into Klausenburg. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE PERI. + + +Once more we are in Hungary, among the Homolka Mountains, in one of +those parts of the land which no one has ever thought of colonizing. For +fifty miles round there is not a village to be seen; not a single +passable road traverses the whole mountain range. The very footpaths +break abruptly off amongst the rocky labyrinths, terminating either in a +leaf-covered waterfall, or at the forsaken hut of a charcoal-burner, the +carbonized, sooty environment of which suffers nothing green to grow. + +The very skirts of this wilderness are uninhabited. One can wander for +hours among the oaks and beeches, towering up one above the other, +without hearing any other sound but one's own footsteps; not a blade of +grass, not a flower, not a shrub can thrive anywhere here. Beneath the +uncleared trees rustle the fallen yellow leaves, peeping up from the +midst of which we perceive the speckled caps of oddly-shaped fungi +clinging in clusters to the mossy tree stems. + +Only where the stream dashes down from the mountains, forcing its way +through the valley, does the greensward appear. There, among the +luxuriant grasses, lie the fearless stags; wild bees build their +basket-shaped nests in the hollow trees on the margin of the stream, and +sweep buzzing round the Alpine flowers which dance on the surface of the +water. + +That stream is the Rima. + +In the dim, dismal distance still higher mountains appear, from which +the stream plunges down in a snow-white torrent. The morning mists +exaggerate the magic remoteness of the scene, and when at last you have +reached the extremest point of that remoteness, it is only to see before +you a still more awful expanse, still more desolate mountain ranges, +forming as it were an immense and uninterrupted ladder up to heaven. + +The Rima burrows in every direction among these primeval mountains. She +alone is bold enough to force her way through this wild rocky labyrinth. +Sometimes she plunges down from the granite terraces with a +far-resounding din, dissolving into a white, cloudy spray, in which the +sunbeams paint an eternal rainbow, which spans the velvet-green margins +of the abyss like a fairy bridge. A moss-clad rock projects from the +midst of the waterfall, dividing it into two, and from the moss-clad +rock wild roses look over into the dizzying, tumbling rapids below. Far +away down, the vagrant stream is hemmed in between basalt rocks; the +twofold echo changes its monotonous, muffled roar into melancholy music; +its transparent, crystal waters appear black from the colour of their +stony bed, wherein rosy trout and sprightly water-snakes, like silver +ribbons, disport themselves; then, escaping from its brief constraint, +it dashes onwards from crag to crag, angrily scourging a huge mass of +rock which once, in flood-time, it swept into its bed from a distance of +many miles, and which, after the next thaw or rainfall, it will hurl a +thousand fathoms deeper into the rock-environed valley. + +Higher and higher we mount. The oaks and beeches fall behind us; the +pines and firs begin. The horizon opens out ever wider and wider. The +transparent mists which have hitherto veiled the heights are left behind +in the depths. The little green patches of valley are scarcely visible +through the opal atmosphere, and the hilly woodlands have dwindled into +dark specks; only their outlines, gold and lilac in the rays of the +rising sun, are still distinguishable. + +And before us the mountains still rise higher and higher. One feels +tempted to scale these fresh giants also, in order to find out whether +there is really any end to them. Now too even the Rima has forsaken us. +Deep down below, we perceive a round, dark-blue lakelet, enclosed on all +sides by steep rocks, on the mirror-like surface of which white swans +are bathing beneath the shadows of the pines dependent over the water's +edge. In the midst of this lakelet, the source of the Rima tosses and +tumbles, casting its bubbling crystal fathoms high, and keeping the +lakelet in perpetual ebullition, as if some spirit were trying to raise +up the whole lake with his head. + +And yet another mountain range starts up before our eyes, covered with +thick fir-woods, though nothing else will grow on the steep ridge, which +is covered along its whole length by masses of rock piled one on the top +of the other. Nowhere does a single green speck meet the eye. + +Having scaled these heights also, we naturally fancy that at last we +have reached the highest point, when suddenly, high above the dark fir +forests, a white giant emerges, and before the eyes of the wearied +mountaineer rise the lofty distant peaks of the Silver Alps, +representing the unattainable with their towering, snowy pyramids. + +Here we pause. + +All along the mountain ridge, standing out the more distinctly for the +great distance, meanders a footpath, disappearing among the pine forests +at one point and re-emerging at another, thereby showing that some one +must dwell here in the wilderness, a circumstance the more startling as, +up to this point, the region has seemed altogether uninhabited, while +beyond it shimmer the still more inhospitable snowy mountains. + +From the top of this peak one sees hundreds and hundreds of mountains +and valleys exactly resembling one another. The eye grows weary of +regarding them, and so long as the sun's rays strike obliquely over the +region, suffusing it with a golden mist, one can barely distinguish the +separate parts of the oppressively sublime panorama. + +Gradually, however, our attention is attracted towards a deep, rocky +gorge, surrounded by greyish-blue mountains, which seem likely at any +moment to topple over. In the midst of this gorge an enormous and +completely isolated rocky pillar stands upright, looking for all the +world as if it had just fallen from the skies. A careless glance might +easily pass over this rocky mass without seeing anything remarkable +about it; but a more attentive observer would discover a narrow wooden +bridge planted on fir-wood piles, and apparently connecting the rocky +block with the surrounding mountain summits. And gradually we perceive +that it was not Nature's hand which made this rocky scaffolding so high. +Those monochromatic rocks, piled one atop the other, forming a wall all +round, and seeming to prolong the mountain range, are the work of human +hands. It is a massive rocky bastion, almost as high as the hill which +forms its base, and as the walls are everywhere carried right out to the +verge of the steep, naked mountain side, they look as if they have grown +out of it, and as if the creeping plants which cling to the rocky walls +are only there to bind them more closely together. + +In the year 1664, the eye which looked down from this point upon the +bare bastions could have perceived within them a dwelling fresh from +fairy-land. Corsar Beg, the terror of the district, dwelt in this +stronghold, and at his command, hedges of roses bloomed on the bastions, +groves of orange and pomegranate trees sprang up around the courtyard, +and everywhere could be seen those gorgeous structures which oriental +magnificence builds for transient pleasure. Spacious rotundas with +sky-blue, enamelled cupolas, sparkling in the sun; variegated turrets +rising from the bastions; balconies adorned with arabesques and covered +with porcelain vases; slim, snow-white minarets encircled by fragrant +creepers; trellised kiosks with their gilded columns; everything +constructed of the most delicate materials, as if it were meant to be a +toy castle; nothing but gilded wood and painted glass, enamelled tiles +and variegated tapestry. Bright banners and pennants flutter down from +the copper roofs, and golden half-moons sparkle on every gable-ridge. +All the kiosks, rotundas, and minarets are bright with banners and +half-moons. 'Tis a fairy palace ready to take flight. + +But the bastions which encircle this frail fairy palace are impregnable. +On every side nothing but inaccessible rocks, where, if once he reach +them, the pursued can defend himself against odds a hundredfold. The +Comparadschis stand, day and night, with burning matches behind the +cannons which Corsar Beg has had cast for himself within the fortress, +for there is no road for ordnance in the whole region. Two of the +cannons are pointed at the bridge, to blow it into the air in case of an +assault. + +From this stronghold Corsar Beg sallies forth, pillaging the land and +massacring the defenceless people; and if he lights upon any pursuing +host, he instantly turns tail with his Spahis and Bedouins; and whilst +he flies to his stronghold along mountain paths, on mules laden with +booty, his Timariots, who cover his retreat, throw barricades up on the +narrow roads, and stone to death all who venture to follow them into the +dark gorges. Sometimes, however, he permits the pursuers to come right +up to the fortress walls, and while they are popping away at the rocky +bastions with the little half-pound mortars which they have dragged up +thither after incalculable exertions, and think that now they will +starve him out at last, he plays a practical joke upon them by somehow +or other (perhaps through subterranean ways), making a sortie from his +stronghold, and robbing and burning behind the backs of the besiegers. +Every attempt to capture, surprise, or blockade him has been in vain. +The inhabitants of the surrounding villages have begun to migrate into +more distant regions for fear of their terrible neighbour. + +After the battle of St. Gothard, in which the Turkish general lost the +fight and twelve thousand men against the Imperial and Hungarian forces, +a twenty years' armistice was concluded between the Porte, the Emperor, +and the Prince of Transylvania, which left the Turks in possession of +all the fortresses which they had built or captured in Hungary. The +lords of these fortresses now continued the war on their own account, +and pillaged and destroyed whenever and wherever they had a chance. The +Sultan was too far off to interfere in each individual case. All he +could do was to authorize the complainants to capture the peace-breakers +if they could, and deal with them as they chose. + + * * * * * + +In the twilight hour of a sultry summer evening, when the heat, +compressed among the rocks during the day, made the atmosphere so heavy +and stifling that sound only travelled with difficulty, we see two +shapes hastening towards the same point from different directions. One +is a man in Hungarian costume, with a low forehead and sharp, squinting +eyes, whose oblique gaze seems expressly made to disconcert whomsoever +he looks upon. The other is an old Turkish woman, with a warty chin +covered with sprouting bristles. The sleeves of her long striped kaftan +hang slovenly down, and her dirty turban gives you the impression that +she has slept in it for weeks together. + +The trysting-place which the two shapes are cautiously making for is a +cavern covered with bushes. Both shapes glide, at the same time, into +the cavern, from the dark depths of which they can see the fortress +without being seen themselves. The old woman, with a hideous smile, +whispers something in the man's ear. + +"Are you quite sure?" inquired the squinter, with a searching look. + +"So certain that I make bold to claim one-half of the promised reward in +advance." + +"That I can quite understand," replied the man with an insulting smile; +"but I will make bold not to pay it. I prefer sticking to my principle +of paying as I go along, sentence by sentence." + +"Ask then!" murmured the hag greedily. + +"When does the Beg return? I lay five ducats on that question." + +"The answer to it costs ten. That is my lowest price." + +"There's your money then! Now speak!" + +The woman counted the gold pieces, put them in her bosom, and replied-- + +"The Beg comes home this evening." + +"Where is the subterranean way by which he arrives?" + +"The answer to that costs one hundred ducats." + +"There you are! Don't count them, but answer me!" + +The woman took the money, pointed to the yawning chasm behind them, and +said-- + +"We are on the very spot." + +The man looked around him with some surprise, then, jingling the purse +from which he had been doling out the ducats in the old woman's ear, he +said-- + +"All in this purse is yours if our plan succeeds, but if you betray us, +this dagger will surely reach you. I'd hunt you down even if you took +refuge in hell itself!" + +The hag grinned. + +"No threats, please! I know something which will not only make you hand +over that purse of gold to me instantly, but will also fill you with +such insane joy that you'll be ready to cover me with kisses. I have +about me a letter which, if once your master reads, he would cover me +with gold from head to foot." + +"Who wrote it?" + +"That is a very dear question. If you paid for the answer down, I'm +afraid you would not have enough money left to carry you home." + +"I want to know who wrote that letter. I'm not going to buy a pig in a +poke." + +"Then farewell! If you want to know anything more, you must pay for it." +And she prepared to go. + +"Stop! Give me that letter, or I'll kill you." + +"No, you won't! One shriek from me and you are lost." + +"Where's the letter?" + +"You surely don't think me fool enough to tell you! I don't carry it on +my person, so you need not look for it!" + +The man angrily threw the purse towards her, whereupon she tripped to +the entrance of the cavern, fetched from thence her crutch and unscrewed +its handle, and drew forth from the hollow of the stick a crumpled +silken roll, which the man unravelled and began to read, and as he read +his face began to tremble for joy, disbelief, and surprise. + +"If all this really happens, what you have now received is a mere +earnest of what you will receive hereafter." + +"Didn't I tell you so?" returned the beldame complacently. "Didn't I say +that you'd gladly pay me in advance at least one-half of the sum +stipulated?" + +"Now, take heed that nothing is observed!" + +"Pst! Go round by the stream, the usual path is to-day infested by +marauding parties." + +With these words the two shapes glided hastily out of the cavern, and +vanished in different directions among the thickets of the wood. + + * * * * * + +And now begone, thou inhospitable outer world! thou oppressive mountain +panorama! thou desolate horizon! + +Appear, ye fairy realms! ye earthly counterfeits of the paradise of +dreams! Permit us one glance into the sanctuary of mysterious joys, of +stifled kisses, of glowing sighs, where Love and Love's satellites alone +do dwell and live! + +We see before us a gorgeous circular saloon. Its spacious walls are made +of mirrors, the perpetual reflection of which lends a peculiar lustre to +every object, nowhere suffering a shadow to fall. The sky-blue cupola of +the domed ceiling is supported by slender, dark-red porphyry columns, +half concealed by clusters of exotic flowers, which, heaped profusely +together in rose-coloured porcelain vases, scatter the gold-dust of +their velvet blossoms on the floor. The floor itself is covered with +silk carpets--only here and there does the mosaic pavement shimmer +forth. In the midst of the room, in a basin of rose-coloured marble, +bubbles a crystal-clear fountain, from the centre of which springs a jet +glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and falling back in showers +of liquid pearls. The water of this fountain is introduced into the +fortress through a secret passage by hidden pipes. All along the walls +extend rows of velvet divans with cylindrical, flowered cashmere +cushions; and on every side of us are fairies, laughing young girls +dancing on the carpets, romping on the divans, and splashing one another +with the water of the fountain. One odalisk swings a cymbal above her +head, and dances with audacious leaps and bounds among the rest, who, +winding their hands together, weave a magic circle around her. Three +Nubian eunuchs accompany the dancers, singing love-lorn lays to the +music of their simple pipes. + +The veils of these fairy forms flutter left and right, revealing faces +whose youthful charms no eye of man has ever gazed upon. The patter of +their tiny feet is scarcely audible on the soft carpets. They seem to +fly. Their light muslin robes ill conceal their youthful forms, and +their tresses, escaping from their turbans, writhe down their snow-white +shoulders like tame serpents. + +A black slave is playing with the little gold fish that dart about in +the basin of the fountain, and laughs aloud whenever any of the nimble +little animals wriggle out of her hands. Her white, embroidered robe is +held together by a golden girdle, and as she sits there on the rosy +marble, the hemispheres of her ebony-black bosom and her plump round +arms glisten in the sunbeams. The glow of youth shines through her dark +features, and her coral lips, radiant with mirth and joy, allow us a +glimpse at rows of the purest pearly teeth, as, with childish glee, she +laughs at her own simple sport. + +At the end of this oval saloon, raised a few feet above the floor, +stands a purple ottoman. The rosy-coloured damask curtains, which form a +baldachin over it, are tied to the branches of enormous jasmine trees by +heavy golden tassels. Oriental butterflies, with ultramarine wings, +flutter round about the silvery jasmine blossoms; and at the head of the +ottoman, on a perch in a golden cage, two little inseparable paroquets, +with emerald wings and carmine heads, nestle close together and kiss +each other perpetually. + +Stretched out to her full length upon the ottoman lies Corsar Beg's +favourite odalisk[21] Azrael. Beneath her snow-white elbows, left bare +by the loose-falling, laced sleeves of her ample kaftan, lies a living +panther, like a bright speckled cushion, licking his glossy skin, and +playing like a young kitten with his mistress's jasper-black locks which +descend upon his head. + + [Footnote 21: _Odalisk_, from Turkish Odalyk = + chamber-maid. Applied particularly to the chief + concubines of the Sultan.] + +The young lady has well chosen her companion. She too is as slender and +as supple as he; her limbs are just as flexible as his; her slight +figure has the same undulating motion, and in her languid eyes burns +just the same savage, half-quenched fire which we see in the eyes of the +half-tamed beast of prey. She lies supine on the ottoman. The amber +mouthpiece of her fragrant narghily droops from her listless hand. Close +by, on a little ivory table, spiced sherbet exhales from a golden bowl. +There too, on Japanese dishes, lie heaps of luscious fruit--golden, +warty melons; pine-apples; the red fruit of the palm; fragrant clusters +of grapes--and, dripping down upon a little silver platter, snow-white +comb-honey, gathered by the bees in the days of the acacia's bloom. + +Azrael bestows not a glance on the luscious fruits. When, from time to +time, she raises her languid eyes, half hidden by their long silken +lashes, one is almost thunderstruck: such burning glances are only to be +found beneath southern skies, whose summer is as glowing, as +languishing, as parching as the eyes of this girl. An eternal desire +burns in those eyes, unspeakable, unappeasable, which enjoyment feeds +without satisfying. If you gave her a world she would instantly demand +another. Even when every sense is sated with bliss and rapture, her +heart remains empty, and yearns after the unattainable. Those who love +her, she hates; those who hate her, she loves. Die for her, and she will +mock you; kill her, and she will adore you. + +Her oval face is as pale as though the burning rays of her eyes had +burnt up all its roses; but when she closes her eyes, and her bosom +heaves convulsively beneath the fire of her secret thoughts, the bright +crimson blood suffuses her cheeks once more. + +And how her lips tremble! She is in a brown study. She speaks to no one. +Dancing and singing, the girls of the harem circle round her. A little +negro boy kneels before her with a silver mirror. Half-naked female +slaves shower down rose-leaves upon her, and fan her with peacock's +feathers. Azrael sees them and hears them not. She looks into the +mirror, and speaks to herself, as if she would read her own thoughts +from her own features; her lips tremble, smile, and pout defiance; her +eye entices, languishes, weeps, or flashes rejection; at one moment she +transports you into the seventh heaven of delight, at the next she +dashes you to the earth. And now some cruel thought, some demoniacal +idea has got hold of her. She retracts her upper lip, exposing her +tightly-clenched teeth; her contracted eyebrows draw a trembling furrow +across her snow-white forehead; the pupils of her eye disappear, +leaving only the upturned whites visible; the beauty lines round the +corners of her mouth grow crooked, and give the expression of a Fury to +the beautiful countenance; her curling tresses, like writhing snakes, +twist down on both sides of her. Her tremulous fingers, involuntarily +and spasmodically, clutch at the smooth neck of the panther, and the +tortured beast roars aloud for pain. + +The favourite shrinks back from her own countenance. She thrusts aside +the little negro, mirror and all; wraps her starry veil around her; +turns upon her side with her tiny scarlet-slippered feet beneath her; +presses her supple body against the panther's neck, and leaning upon her +elbows, glances around with such a savage, menacing look, that every one +on whom it falls, not even excepting the wild beast, shrinks back with +fear. + +But she cannot keep still a moment. A tormenting weariness compels her +every moment to shift her position. Now she reclines on her divan, and +raising her arms aloft, throws back her head and neck; all her limbs +writhe like the folds of a serpent; in her eyes sparkle the tears of +smothered desires. + +None dare ask her, "What ailest thee?" Azrael is so capricious. Perhaps +the questioner might please her, and she would command her to +straightway leap down before her eyes from the highest pinnacle of the +Corsar's castle into the abyss below. It is therefore neither wise nor +safe to try to please Azrael. + +But lo! a gold-trellised door opens, and Azrael's tearful eyes sparkle +with joy when she perceives who it is that enters. It is the old woman +with the warty chin, whom we have already met at the cavern's mouth. A +ghastly, hideous duenna! Turkish women age prematurely. Ten years ago +Babaye was Corsar Beg's favourite mistress, now she is Azrael's +favourite slave. + +The hag sits down at Azrael's feet. She alone has the privilege of +sitting down before Azrael. + +"Are we weary then?" said the beldame to the beautiful odalisk, with a +confidential leer, displaying a row of jagged fangs black from +sugar-sucking and betel-chewing. "We find no joy in anything, eh? What! +have not the Bayaderes[22] danced amidst a circle of burning tapers? Or +has that also lost its charm? Are the Persian silks already shabby and +threadbare? Is there no longer any flavour in the honeycomb or any +perfume in the pine-apple? Have the pearls of Ceylon lost their lustre? +Do the songs of the Italian eunuchs vex and weary? And has the mirror +nothing beautiful to show? Wherefore is the Sun of suns so moody and so +impatient? Why should a cloud obscure the heaven of Damanhour? Shall I +delight her of the alabaster forehead with a tale? Shall I tell the +story of the captive lion which Medzsnun, the immortal poet, has +written?" + + [Footnote 22: _Bayaderes._ Indian singing and dancing + girls. A Portuguese word.] + +Azrael cast down her languid eyelids by way of assent. + +"Once upon a time they captured a lion in the palm forests of +Bilidulgherid. A rich and powerful Dey bought the beast for a thousand +gold pieces. The Dey was a mighty man. At his command they built for the +lion a cage of gold so large that palm-trees could stand upright +therein. The ceiling of the cage was inlaid with lapis-lazuli. They +brought to it, from the distant mountains, a spring of living water, and +the floor was decked with purple carpets. But the lion was sad and +silent. All day it lay there sullen and morose. Only when the sun had +set would it arise with an angry roar, shake the door of its cage, and +terrify the silence of the night. The Dey asked the lion, 'What dost +thou lack, my beautiful beast? Thy house is of gold. Thou dost eat with +me out of the same dish, and thy drink is the crystal spring! What more +dost thou desire? Wouldst thou bathe in ambergris? Or dost thou desire +for supper the hearts of my favourite odalisks?' The lion roared and +made answer, 'My cage, though it be of gold, is still a cage; these +palm-trees are not the groves of Nubia, and this basin is not the +springs of the desert of Berzendar. I want neither thy perfumes nor thy +spices, nor the throbbing hearts of thy slaves. Give me back the free +air of the desert, there will I speedily find again my good-humour!'" + +Babaye was silent. The odalisk, with a tremulous sigh, bowed down her +head upon her aching bosom, and beckoned to the duenna to tell her yet +another tale. + +"Wouldst thou hear the story of the fairy and the mortal maiden? Once +upon a time the fairy of the rainbow perceived a lovely maiden, enticed +her away with sweet words, and took her over the bridge of the seven +colours into the third heaven. There, everything was more beautiful than +it is on earth--the flower a languid diamond; the sigh of the zephyr a +melodious song; the pillars of the palaces nought but crystal and gems. +There every sense experienced a threefold greater bliss than here below. +The fairy treated the maiden like the apple of her eye--fairies know the +secret of loving tenderly--and yet the girl was sad. She grew weary in +heaven, and whenever the fairy went away to suck up water for the sky +from the ocean, she saw how the girl bent over the rainbow-bridge, and +looked longingly down upon the cloudy earth. 'What lackest thou?' she +asked the maiden. 'Wherefore dost thou look down so upon the earth? +Speak! What dost thou want? Command me, and I'll fetch it for +thee!'--'Stars are falling down from heaven,' replied the girl, 'and +they fall upon the earth. Give me of them, and I will make a pearly +coronet for my hair!' And the fairy went and brought the stars. Again +the maiden looked down sadly upon the earth. Again the fairy asked her, +'What dost thou lack? Is there aught on earth that thy soul desirest?' +The maiden answered, 'There below dance slim damsels, and look up +smilingly at me! Wherefore are they happier than I? Would that I had +their heads to play at ball with!' And the fairy brought the heads of +the damsels for the maiden to play at ball with." + +Azrael looked at the hag with contracted eyebrows, half raised herself +upon her elbows, and sought in her golden girdle for the malachite +handle of her little dagger. + +"Once more the maiden looked down upon the earth," resumed Babaye, +smiling. "'Is aught else to be found there that is worth a wish?' asked +the fairy in despair. 'Below there, youthful heroes are walking to and +fro,' returned the maiden, 'and they are all so sweet and so lovely. +Thou art a fairy, 'tis true, but thou art alone in heaven. Thou canst +not give me fresh love. Let me go back again to earth.'" + +Azrael sprang from the ottoman with glowing cheeks, and seized the +beldame by the shoulder. Her bosom heaved tumultuously; a threatening +scarlet flamed upon her burning face. All the muscles of her snow-white +arms seemed to quiver. + +Babaye looked up at her with a grin. + +"Come into thy bathing-chamber," said she to the agitated odalisk. "The +agate basin exhales the perfumes of spikenard and ambergris. Whilst thou +art there alone, I will entertain thee. I know still more beautiful +tales which shall rejoice thy heart." + +Azrael, all tremulous, drew her veil around her neck, and with nervous +irritability beckoned to the girls to be gone. They escaped through the +side-door in terrified haste; nor were they fearful without good cause, +for as soon as Azrael had withdrawn, the deserted panther, freed from +the thrall of his mistress, stretched himself to his full length, lolled +out his red tongue as far as it would go, protruded his sharp claws, +lowered his head with a menacing growl, sprang at a single bound into +the middle of the room, careered twice or thrice round the walls, +savagely howling and snuffing at every door behind which he scented the +vanished slaves, scratched at the threshold with bloodthirsty rage, and +whined peevishly because he could not get at them. Then he crouched down +by the water-basin, rested his fore-paws thereon, lapped up the +crystal-clear stream with his long red tongue, then, rolling himself +into a ball on the soft carpet, seized his long speckled tail between +his hind legs and played with it like a cat. Then he stood up again, +looked around with cunning, malignant eyes, and perceiving a large white +cockatoo in a bronze cage, wriggled towards it on his belly, and watched +it for a long time with lowered head and restless tail. Suddenly, with +one bound, he sprang upon it, and seized the bar of the cage with his +claws. The terrified cockatoo, loudly screeching, struck at his +assailant with his crooked bill; and the panther, who could neither +overthrow the cage nor destroy it, for it was nailed fast to the ground, +leaped over it again and again, roaring furiously, and then cowered down +before it, lashing the ground on both sides of him with his tail, and +gaping from time to time at the terrified bird with his wide +bloodthirsty jaws, whilst the cockatoo screeched, whistled, fluttered +about the cage, and hacked away at his inaccessible perch. + + * * * * * + +Along the hollow, labyrinthine way which meanders into the Corsar's +castle, the trampling of a troop of horsemen is faintly audible. The +clash of arms resounds from the depths of the wood long before we can +discern who are approaching. Now they have climbed to the mountain +summit where the road runs along the rocky ridge. It is Corsar Beg +himself with his robber band. The booty-laden mules lead the way. The +treasures of pillaged churches gleam forth from the leathern sacks piled +one on the top of the other. In the centre rides the Beg himself, with +his motley body-guard recruited from every kind of Turkish +cavalry--silk-clad Spahis with long lances, bare-armed Baskirs with bows +and arrows, Bedouins in snow-white mantles with long, brass-tipped +muskets. The Beg is a man in the prime of life. His brown, almost black +countenance makes his slight beard and moustaches nearly invisible. His +lips and eyes are large and swollen. His projecting cheek-bones and +broad chin give him a truculent, ferocious air, with which his massive +shoulders and enormous muscular development well agree. His clothing is +tastelessly overladen with gems. A string of pearls goes round his +turban. Large gold rings hang glistening down from his ears. His dolman +is embroidered with a flower-pattern of precious stones, and everything +about his horse, from its hoofs to its snaffle, is of pure gold. His +round shield is made of burnished silver, and the head of his +morning-star consists of a single cornelian. + +His troop follows him in silence. Many of the horsemen carry behind them +half-swooning Christian girls on whom they do not bestow a glance. The +garments of all these freebooters are stained with blood; some of them +have not even taken the trouble to wipe away the blood-stains from their +faces. + +The mules, whipped by the fellahs, trot noiselessly towards the +fortress; the host ambles after them along the narrow path. The Timariot +infantry straggle behind, and quarrel among themselves about the booty +which they carry on their shoulders. No one pursues them. + + * * * * * + +The large oval room is empty. The women of the harem have withdrawn into +their own apartments. Azrael is alone. + +On quitting her perfumed bath, she has a hammock slung over the +fountain, reclines therein, rocks herself luxuriously to and fro, and +lets her glowing, snow-white limbs be splashed by the water-jet. She +folds her arms across her bosom, and, with a self-complacent smile, +watches the diamond jet break against her lithe body as the swaying +hammock cuts across it with its charming burden. + +The red curtains are let down to keep out the rays of sunset, but a +rose-coloured light pervades the room, suffusing every object with a +soft and magic hue. The odalisk appears like a rosy water-nymph swinging +on a bright lotus-leaf over a fountain of liquid rubies. + +The atmosphere of the room is impregnated with a bewitching, +love-inspiring perfume. Not a sound is to be heard save the pattering of +the water-drops as they fall back into the basin. + +All at once the familiar winding of a horn is heard outside. The +prancing and neighing of horses in the courtyard scares away the +silence. Above the din rises the word of command of a well-known voice. +Azrael smiles, and rocks herself still more swiftly in her hammock. A +fatal enticement lurks in her eyes as she looks towards the +golden-trellised door, and throws back her head. + +A minute later, and we hear hasty steps approaching. Impelled by love, +Corsar Beg is hastening towards his earthly paradise. The turning of a +key is audible in the golden door. Azrael laughs aloud, and rocks +herself still more swiftly in her bright-winged hammock. + + * * * * * + +The shadows of night have descended. Every living thing sleeps soundly. +Love alone is wakeful. + +"Oh, I fear me! I fear me!" whispers Azrael, clinging still more closely +to the breast of the wild Moorish horseman. + +"Why dost thou tremble? I am here," and he embraces her slim waist. + +"Hamaliel hath brought me evil dreams," returns the odalisk. "I dreamt +that the Giaours stormed thy castle in the night-time and murdered thee. +I would have hurled myself down from the battlements, but I could not +because I was a captive. A Christian held me in his arms! Mashallah! it +was frightful!" + +"Fear not!" said the Corsar. "The Koran says that only birds can fly, +and none can get into this castle without wings. But even if we were +surprised thou hast no cause to fear falling into the hands of the +Infidel, or being defiled by the touch of the Giaour, for under the +ottoman on which we now lie a lunt is laid which goes right down into +the powder-chamber. If all were lost, thou hast but to touch that lunt +with this night-lamp, and the whole castle with us and our foes would +fly into the air." + +"Oh, what a consoling thought!" sighs Azrael, softly pressing her lips +to the Corsar's cheeks, and seeming to slumber once more. + +The night-lamp flickers feebly on its tripod, multiplying its own +shadow. The watchers snore before the doors. + +Suddenly Azrael springs screaming from her couch, dragging the Beg along +with her. + +"La illah, il allah! Dost thou not hear the noise of the Jins?" she +cries, trembling in every limb. + +The Beg stares around him in terror. A tempest is raging outside. The +weathercocks creak and rattle. The wind tears the tiles from the summits +of the minarets, and hurls them on to the cupolas of the kiosk. The +lightning flashes, and the thunder teaches the rocks to tremble. + +"Dost thou hear how they howl, those invisible beings, and rattle at the +barred and bolted windows with a mighty hand?" + +"By the shadow of Allah! I hear them right well," murmurs the trembling +freebooter, with wildly staring eyes. + +"Mercy! mercy! Avaunt, ye evil spirits!" cries Azrael, sinking down upon +the floor with dishevelled tresses, and stretching wide her naked arms. +"Ye shall be whipped with sunbeams and the darkness shall swallow you! +Go hence to the Giaours and torture them! May ye break your wings on the +horns of our half-moons, as ye whirl past them in your hosts!--Ha, how +their eyes flash! Shadow of Allah, conceal us, lest they look upon us +with their fiery eyes!" + +The big, strong man, all trembling, lies on his face beside Azrael, and +hides himself beneath her mantle and her long flowing tresses. His +superstitious terror has stolen every feeling of manliness from his +breast; he quakes like a child. + +"Dost hear! dost hear how they murmur! Repeat rapidly and aloud the +prayer of Naama, and stop thy ears that thou mayst not hear what they +say!" + +At that moment a terrible gust broke one of the panes of glass, and the +free invading air began to move the heavy curtains to and fro, and make +the lamp flicker. + +"Ha! Dost thou see him?" cried Azrael. "Pst! Look not thither! Open not +thine eyes! Hide thy face! Duck down by me! Cover thee with my mantle! +It is Asasiel, the Angel of Death! Dost thou not feel his cold sigh upon +thy cheek? Pst! Be covered! Perchance he will not see thee!" + +Corsar Beg clung convulsively to Azrael's garment, and covered his face +with his hands. + +"What wouldst thou?" cried Azrael, as if addressing an invisible spirit. +"Black shadow, with blue sparkling eyes of fire, for whom dost thou +come? There is none here but I. Corsar Beg has not come home! Come +later! Come an hour hence! Avaunt, avaunt, black being! May Allah crush +thy head in the dust! Come an hour hence, and be for ever accursed!" + +Corsar dared not open his eyes. Azrael bent half over him, to shield him +from the eyes of the Angel of Death. + +"Avaunt! avaunt!" + +At that moment the lightning struck one of the bastions, and shook the +mountain to its very base. The crackling roar of the thunder, like an +infernal trumpet-blast, went clanging up to heaven. + +"Ah!" cried Azrael, and she sank down upon the Corsar, encircled his +body with her arms, and so remained till the rumbling of the thunder had +died away, and a gentle shower began to patter down upon the copper +roof. Then the tempest gradually passed away, sighing and moaning around +the windows, and finally dying away among the distant forests. + +Azrael softly raised her head and looked around. + +"He is gone," she whispered, in a scarcely audible tone. "He said he +would return in an hour. Corsar, thou hast yet another hour to live." + +"An hour!" repeated Corsar faintly. "Alas! Azrael, where canst thou +conceal me?" + +"It cannot be. Asasiel is inexorable. Another hour, and he will take +thee away." + +"Bargain with him. If he must have the dead, I will behead a hundred of +my slaves. Promise him blood, treasure, prayers, and burning villages. +All, all he shall have, only let him give me back my life!" + +"Too late. In my dreams I saw thy sword break in twain. Thy days are +numbered. Nay, thou hast but one chance left, but one way of thwarting +the Angel of Blood: if only one among the dead will change names with +thee, so that Asasiel may carry him off instead of thee." + +"Oh yes! oh yes!" stammered the strong man, beside himself for fear. +"Oh, seek me out some such dead man who will change names with me. Thou +dost know the incantations. Go! call up one from the grave! Promise him +anything, everything, whoever he may be--a fellah, a rajah, it matters +not. I'll give him my name and take his. Go!" + +"Nay, but thou must go also. Gird on thy kaftan quickly. Leave thy +weapons here. Spirits fear not sharp steel. We will descend into the +churchyard beneath the fortress walls; kindle ambergris and borax on a +tripod; hurl the magic wand into the nearest grave, and so compel the +dwellers therein to appear before thee. When the spirit appears he will +stand motionless, but thou must advance towards him, and cry thrice in +a loud voice--'Die for me!' whereupon the spirit will vanish, and +Asasiel will cease from troubling thee." + +"But thou too wilt be close at hand?" stammered the Corsar, grasping +tightly the arm of the odalisk, as if he feared that Death would +instantly seize him if he let her go. + +"Yes, I will be by thy side. But hasten. An hour is but a brief +respite." + +Corsar quickly threw his upper garment around him, and recited in broken +sentences the beginning of a prayer, the end of which he could not +recollect. + +"Wake none of the watch," said Azrael cautiously. "The power of the +spell might be broken if we met any living soul who should say a prayer +contrary to ours. We will saddle the horses ourselves and descend by +secret paths. Speak not a word by the way, nor cast a glance behind +thee." + +The Beg was ready. He was just putting on his fur-lined kaftan, for his +limbs felt frozen, when the odalisk called to the panther, which was +reposing on the carpet. + +"Oglan,[23] thou shalt go with us and keep watch, and if we fall in with +a wild beast, thou shalt defend us." + + [Footnote 23: _Oglan_, the Turkish for boy.] + +As if he understood the words of his mistress, the panther rose up on +his hind legs and placed his fore-paws on her arm, while the trembling +man clung to her on the other side. + + * * * * * + +The Turkish cemetery beneath the walls of the fortress is planted with +cypress trees. The turbaned graves, with their coffin-like slabs, peer +forth, ghastly white, from among the dark weeping-willows. The sound of +the approaching footsteps startles away a grey wolf from among the +tombs, the sole inhabitant of that desolation. Since the last shower the +clouds have dispersed, and here and there the dark-blue sky looks +through with its diamond stars. Raindrops trickle down from the leaves +of the trees. + +From time to time the rumbling of the storm is still heard faintly in +the distance. Sheet-lightning flickers above the mountain crests, +painting everything white for an instant. The lightning, like the night, +can only give one colour to this region--the one paints it white, the +other black. + +The nightly shapes reach the churchyard by the secret path and dismount +among the graves. Azrael places the reins of both horses in Oglan's +jaws, and the shrewd beast remains sitting there on his haunches, +holding both the snorting horses as firmly as if they were fastened to a +stake. + +The Moorish horseman and the odalisk ascend a high funereal mound, the +tombstone of which is barely visible through the dependent branches of a +weeping willow. + +"Something more than a slave must rest beneath that stone," whispered +Azrael to the quaking horseman; and placing her magic tripod on the +tomb, she ignited with a phosphorous pellet the powdered ambergris and +borax, which flickered up and cast a whitish glare all around the grave. + +There was a slight rustle in the distance. The Corsar's horse neighed +uneasily. + +"What was that?" asked the Corsar. + +"The Jins," replied Azrael; "look not behind thee." + +With that she raised her magic staff, and pronounced in unintelligible +words the exorcism over the grave. + +"Thou restless spirit, appear at my bidding. Wherever thou art, beneath +the dark tree of Hell, or in the garden of the Houris; whether thou dost +pine in chains of fire or dost recline on beds of roses, obey my voice, +fly through the air, dissipate the darkness, and appear before me in the +mortal shape thou didst wear on earth. Appear!" + +With these words she struck with her staff upon the stone slab, and +immediately a lofty shape in a white winding-sheet rose up from behind +the tomb. + +"Now advance three steps forward and speak to it," cried Azrael to the +confounded Moor. + +With tottering footsteps Corsar Beg approached the shape, and cried with +a hoarse, trembling voice-- + +"My name is Corsar Beg. Who then art thou, accursed spirit?" + +"I am Balassa," replied the shape with a sonorous voice; and casting +aside the white winding-sheet, a powerfully-built, fair-complexioned man +appeared with a drawn sword in his hand. "Corsar Beg, you are my +prisoner," cried he to the Turk, who stood there in his bewilderment as +if turned to stone. + +The next moment the Beg put his hand to his side, and not finding his +sword there, rushed back with a howl of fury to his horse, threw himself +like lightning into the saddle, and struck his sharp spurs into the +flanks of his steed. But Oglan held the reins firmly between his teeth, +and when the horse tried to start off, the panther planted his front +paws firmly into the ground, and forced it back again. + +"To hell with thee, accursed monster!" roared the Beg, foaming with +rage, and striking at the panther with his fist; but the beast tugged +the halter first to the right and then to left, and stopped the horse in +its flight; terrified it with his leaps and bounds, and forced it to go +round and round. + +"Speak to this monster, Azrael!" cried the Beg. He turned round to look +for his favourite, and he beheld her nestling lovingly in Balassa's +bosom, with her snow-white arms encircling the young Hungarian's neck. +At the same instant the woods all around teemed with life; the ambushed +Hungarian soldiers rushed forth and tore the Beg from his horse, who, +even when forced to the ground, tried to defend himself with stones. + +"Be accursed!" gasped the vanquished freebooter. + +The attacking squadrons marched before his very eyes through the secret +passage into the fortress, and an hour later he could see, by the light +of his burning palace, his favourite Azrael mounting up behind Balassa, +and disdaining to bestow so much as a glance at the discomfited Beg. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER. + + +Several years have elapsed since Apafi became a Prince. We have reached +that period when the unexpected death of Nicolas Zrinyi dissolved the +faction of the malcontent Hungarians, compelling most of them to +emigrate into Transylvania, which land, owing to the ceaseless +antagonism of the German Emperor and the Turkish Sultan, was allowed to +enjoy an independent government. It paid indeed a tribute to the Sublime +Porte; but it adopted what measures it chose in its own Diet, and if the +Tartars occasionally reduced a few villages to ashes, that was only +another proof that they no longer regarded the land as their own +property. All the strongholds were in the hands of the Prince. He could +keep as many soldiers as his purse would pay for, wage war with +whomsoever he could cope, and hoodwink the Turks whenever it pleased him +so to do. The Turk had nothing to find fault with, either in the +constitution of the land, its peculiar privileges, its patriarchal +aristocracy, its Latin language, and its Hungarian dolman; or, again, in +its manifold religions and its three distinct[24] and self-governing +nationalities. All these things did not trouble him in the least. At +most he pitied the poor gentlemen who made such a muddle of affairs of +state; but he never made the slightest attempt to initiate them into his +own much simpler political system. + + [Footnote 24: _Viz._ the Saxons, the Szeklers, and the + Magyars. The Wallachs simply cultivated the soil.] + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, great changes had taken place at Ebesfalva. The dwelling of +the Prince no longer consisted of a simple manor-house. On a +neighbouring hill he had had a castle built with lofty, square towers, +from the corners of which rose still loftier turrets. The entrance was +guarded by two proudly rampant stone lions. On the faade, in bold +relief, was carved the inscription: _Fata viam inveniunt_. A vestibule, +connecting one wing of the castle with the other, and surrounded by a +richly-gilded and ornamented trellis-work, runs along the front of the +castle on huge, classically-carved stone pillars. The windows are all in +the Perpendicular style, with old-fashioned ornaments, and you reach the +inner courtyard by a subterranean corridor. + +In this courtyard, instead of ploughs and wagons, our eye falls upon +arquebusses and culverins. Instead of peasants, we see body-guards, in +yellow dolmans and scarlet hose, swaggering before the doors. To reach +the Prince's cabinet, one must traverse long corridors and re-echoing +saloons, in which pages, footmen, and gentlemen of the bedchamber +announce the newcomer from door to door, and when one has finally +reached the reception-chamber, it is only to see, after all, not the +Prince, but the Prince's chief councillor, Master Michael Teleki, the +same bald-headed man whom we first met at Csakatorny, at that memorable +hunt where Nicolas Zrinyi met his death. At that time the worthy +gentleman was only one of Prince George Rakoczy's disgraced ex-captains; +but since then a kind Providence has taken him by the hand, and he is +now Captain-General of Kvar, and the Prince's omnipotent prime +minister. His mother was the Princess's sister, and his aunt, whom he +always calls sister (women seldom take offence at such mistakes), +introduced him to her consort. Once near the Prince, Teleki needed no +one's good word. His comprehensive intellect, vast knowledge, and +statesmanlike dexterity made him indispensable to the Prince, who loved +to bury himself among his books and his antiquities, and felt aggrieved +when anything tore him away from his family circle or his favourite +studies. + +To-day, too, his reception-room is crammed to suffocation by gentlemen +who seek an audience of his Highness. They are the fugitive Hungarians, +of whom the Prince seems to stand in peculiar horror. These restless, +bellicose, dark-browed people are an abomination to the easy-going, +contemplative Prince. So he shuts himself up in his study, and the only +person admitted to his presence is the learned and reverend John +Passai, Professor at Nagy-Enyed, beloved by the Prince on account of +his profound scholarship. + +Apafi's private room is more like the study of a scholar than the +cabinet of a ruler. All around stands filled with books in gilded +bindings hide the walls, and in every corner lie heaps of plans and +charts. In the very circumscribed intervening spaces stand consoles with +clocks upon them, which the Prince always winds up himself; and the +chairs and sofas are so overladen with books for immediate use, that +whenever the Prince has a confidential visitor, he hardly knows where to +bestow him. Nay, sometimes the stone floor itself is so bestrewn with +outspread maps, dusty MSS., and open folios, that Teleki, when he +enters, has to walk as circumspectly as one who picks his way +circuitously through mud and mire. + +The two gentlemen are at the present moment standing before the table, +which is covered with all sorts of ancient coins. Apafi wears a short +grey coat with loose sleeves, which is fastened round his loins by a +silken cord. His headgear consists of a round skin cap. Passai is +buttoned up in a dark-green, fur-lined mente, which reaches from his +chin to his heels. His thick white hair is shoved back and held together +by a large circular comb. His face, despite the wrinkles which cover it, +is fresh and ruddy, and his teeth are as perfect as those of a youth. + +Apafi is attentively regarding a gold piece, which he poises between his +fingers and holds against the light. Passai stands hat in hand before +the Prince like a log, with his wrinkled countenance fixed intently on +his Highness. + +Apafi petulantly turns and twists the coin in all directions. + +"These are not Roman letters," he angrily murmurs; "neither are they +Greek nor Cyrillic, and least of all Hunnish symbols. Where was it +found?" he asked, turning to Passai. + +"In Vasarhely, as the Wallachs were removing the ruins of the old +temple." + +"Deuce take them! They might have been better employed." + +"It was a very ancient ruin, what they call a Roman temple." + +"But it cannot have been a Roman temple, for this is not a Roman coin." + +"That's my opinion too; but the Wallachs have a way of regarding all +the ruins in Transylvania as Roman monuments." + +"But why did they take it to pieces?" + +"The villagers wanted to make lime of the statues." + +"The impious wretches!" cried Apafi indignantly, "to turn such precious +masterpieces of art into lime. And you have not striven to save at least +a part of it from destruction?" + +"I bought the lid of a sarcophagus adorned with sculptures, and a sphinx +in a perfect state of preservation; but the Wallach who was charged with +their removal was too lazy to have them lifted up as they stood, so he +broke up the statues into five or six pieces, so that he might have less +trouble in loading his cart." + +"That man deserves to be impaled. I will issue a decree that no one +shall henceforth lay a hand upon such antiquities." + +"I am afraid your Highness will arrive too late, for when the people +found that I was paying for these stones, the belief spread among them +that I was seeking for diamonds and carbuncles therein, so they smashed +the whole mass into such tiny morsels that they could now be offered for +sale as sand." + +"Have you spoken to that nobleman of Deva about the mosaic?" + +"He won't part with it at any price. He said that none of his ancestors +had ever carried their property to market. If only he would remove it +from the place where he found it, it would be something. But he won't +even do that, and now the cow-house stands over it, and the oxen make +their beds on the prostrate figures of Venus and Cupid." + +"I should very much like to confiscate that man's property, and so come +into possession of that priceless curiosity," cried Apafi, with a +scholar's zeal, and again he busied himself with the investigation of +the enigmatical letters. + +At that moment Teleki entered the room with a busy, important look, and +drawing from his silken pocket a MS. roll, placed it open in Apafi's +hand. The Prince made as though he were reading the document +attentively, and wrinkled his brows. Suddenly he looked up and exclaimed +joyfully-- + +"They are Dacian letters!" + +"What!" cried Teleki, opening his eyes wide in his astonishment. He was +at a loss to explain how the Prince could have found Dacian letters in +the Latin MS. which he had just put into his hands. + +"Yes; there can be no doubt about it," continued the Prince. "I +recollect reading somewhere--in Dion Cassius, I think--that the Romans, +after the fall of Decebalus,[25] had commemorative medallions struck off +with Dacian inscriptions, and the figure of a decapitated man on the +reverse. Don't you see the emblem?" + + [Footnote 25: _Decebalus_. King of Dacia during the + reigns of Domitian, Nerva, and Trajan.] + +"But your Highness," interrupted Teleki impatiently, "the memorial which +I have handed to you----" + +And now for the first time Apafi perceived that a parchment was in his +hand awaiting perusal. He returned it sulkily to Teleki. + +"I have already told you that I can speak to no one to-day. In a month +the session of the Diet will begin, and then the Hungarian gentlemen can +ventilate their affairs to their hearts' content." + +"I cry your Highness' pardon!" replied Teleki caustically; "this +document is not from the Hungarian lords, but from his Excellency the +Tartar Khan." + +"And what does he want?" cried Apafi, throwing a glance upon the +parchment, but when he perceived how long it was he laid it aside. "I +will be brief with him. Who brought the letter?" + +"An emir." + +Apafi immediately threw his attila over his shoulders, girded on his +sword, and stepped into the reception-room. + +"Good-day! good-day!" he cried hastily to those assembled there. He +wished to cut short their long ceremonious greetings, and looked about +among them with inquiring eyes. + +"Where is the emir?" + +The Tartar envoy at once stepped forward. He was a truculent, swarthy +fellow, with small sparkling eyes. A heron's plume as long as the shaft +of a lance waved from his large turban. He wore a red, richly-fringed +jacket, and the gold inlaid hilt of his scimitar peeped forth from his +broad girdle. Defiantly he placed himself in front of the Prince and +stuck out his chest. + +"_Salem alek!_ What do you want?" asked Apafi curtly. + +The emir measured the Prince from head to foot twice or thrice with his +piercing eyes, threw back his head, and said-- + +"My master, the gracious Kuban Khan, bids me say to thee, O Prince of +the Giaours, that thou art a perjured, false, and faithless man. Thou +didst swear by thy honour that we should be good neighbours, and how +hast thou kept thy word? It chanced last year that we traversed the +Saxon[26] land, and visited those towns whose names no true believer can +pronounce, to collect the usual yearly tribute. They were ever good +payers, but some among them chancing to lag behind with their +contributions were, by the order of the most gracious Khan, instantly +reduced to ashes that they might learn to behave better another time. +And perchance thou dost fancy that they amended their evil ways? Not at +all. For when we visited them again this year, we found the charred and +naked walls as we had left them the year before: the unbelieving dogs +had traitorously fled away. Wherefore my gracious master, the mighty +Kuban Khan, bids me ask thee what manner of prince thou art that dost +suffer these unbelieving dogs to so forsake their towns and make fools +of us. When we came at other times, the hay was housed, the corn +thrashed, the cattle stalled--and this time we find nought but weeds, +and therein hares and other unclean beasts which ye unbelievers delight +to eat, and none of the towns built up again, so that we could take no +vengeance. Look to it, then, if thou wouldst not draw down upon thy head +the wrath of the mighty Khan, look to it that thou commandest this +runaway people to return to its towns that we may reckon with them; and +in the meantime bid the remaining Saxon towns, which have faithlessly +environed their houses with impregnable walls, that they open their +gates to us, otherwise we will visit thee in Klausenburg itself with +fire and sword, and will not leave thee one stone upon another." + + [Footnote 26: _Saxons_. Geza II. (1141-1161) planted in + Transylvania a German colony to clear the forests and + till the lands. These so-called Saxons have survived to + the present day, and reside chiefly at Hermannstadt.] + +Apafi, during the course of this speech, had frequently laid his hand on +his sword, but he evidently thought better of it, for it was with the +utmost tranquillity that he thus replied-- + +"Go back! Greet thy master, and say that we will give him satisfaction." + +With that he turned his back upon the envoy, and would have returned to +his cabinet had not Teleki barred the way. + +"That is not enough, your Highness. Once for all we must make it +impossible for any dog-headed Tartar to speak such brave words before +the throne of the Prince of Transylvania." + +"Speak to him then yourself!" + +Teleki thereupon, with an earnest, dignified mien, stepped up to the +emir, stared him out of countenance, and said with a firm voice-- + +"Thy master is doubtless the ruler of Tartary, but is not my master the +Prince of Transylvania? And is not the sublime Sultan the protector of +us both? Know then that the sublime Sultan did not make thy master Khan +of Tartary that he might dwell in Transylvania, nor has he set my master +on the throne of Transylvania to endure the insolence of thy master! Go +back then to thine own land, and come not hither again to wonder why a +town which is burnt down one year is not built up again the next. We +will take good care that all such places are rebuilt, but we will also +see that the bastions are high enough to keep thee out, and shouldst +thou desire to visit us at Klausenburg next year, we will also take care +that thou shalt not have thy journey for nothing, and will provide guns +in abundance to salute thee at a respectful distance." + +All this Teleki said to the emir with a perfectly serious countenance. + +The emir snorted with fury. His eyes grew bloodshot. His hand played +with the hilt of his scimitar, and he stammered with pallid lips-- + +"If any of my master's servants spoke thus in his presence, he would +immediately have his head struck off." + +But Apafi tapped Teleki on the shoulder, and murmured as he stroked his +beard-- + +"It is well, Master Michael Teleki! You have spoken like a man." + +The emir turned furiously upon his heel, and, shaking the dust from his +feet, left the room. + +This scene put Apafi in a good humour, especially with Teleki. The +minister could read this change of mood in his master's face, and +hastened to make use of it. Taking one of the many suitors by the hand, +he presented him to Apafi with these words-- + +"My future son-in-law, your Highness." + +Apafi would probably have escaped from a presentation made in any other +way; but made in this form he could not possibly avoid it. He was +compelled to cast a glance upon the young man. + +The person so presented was a tall, handsome stripling with blooming red +cheeks and no trace, as yet, of a beard. In his femininely beautiful +features, it was pride alone which revealed the man. + +The youth pleased Apafi. + +"What is your son-in-law's name?" he asked Teleki. + +With a peculiar smile Teleki said-- + +"Emerich, Stephen Tkly's son." + +On hearing this name, Apafi suddenly became very grave, and said to the +young man-- + +"Your father was a good friend to me"--and yet he did not extend his +hand to the son. + +"I know it," replied the youth, "and for that reason I have come to your +Highness." + +"But your late father--God rest him!--was an unruly spirit. It is well +that you have not followed in his footsteps. He was never happy unless +he was fighting. The thunder of artillery was a vital necessity to him, +and the last hours of his life were spent at a siege. Well for you that +you do not imitate him! You seem to me a very steady, quiet sort of +young man." + +"Oh! such praise as that I'm sure I don't deserve," replied Tkly +proudly; "I also was at the siege you speak of, and defended the +fortress till my father died." + +Apafi did not like to be interrupted in this way, but, meaning to show +his sympathy, he added, after a pause-- + +"And how then did you manage to escape, my son?" + +Emerich blushed deeply and would not answer; but Teleki, by way of +correcting his young kinsman's intemperate zeal, answered +apologetically-- + +"The fact is, he was then very young, so they disguised him in woman's +clothes, and he was thus able to elude the vigilance of the besiegers." + +Apafi immediately recovered his good-humour. He playfully stroked the +youth's blood-red cheeks, and signified to Teleki that he might now +introduce the other gentlemen also. + +They were all fugitives from Hungary, and the Prince did his best to +appear gracious towards them; but, in the meantime, one of the court +ushers entered and announced with a loud voice-- + +"His Excellency Monsieur l'Abb Reverend, the French Envoy, desires an +audience." + +This announcement again filled Apafi with embarrassment. He drew Teleki +aside and whispered in his ear-- + +"I will not, I cannot receive him. Go out and speak to him yourself, and +explain how matters stand." And with that he hastily quitted the +reception-room, delighted at having this time shifted the difficulty on +to Teleki's shoulders; but he remained listening at the door to find out +whether there would be any violent explosion behind his back. + +And an explosion there certainly was, though not of a particularly +terrifying character. + +The Prince heard Teleki burst into a jovial peal of laughter, whereupon +all the gentlemen present with one accord followed his example, just as +if they were taking part in some intensely amusing diversion. + +"It must indeed be a very peculiar phenomenon which extorts such +extravagant merriment from these sour-faced gentry," thought Apafi, and +he half opened the door--he could not quite open it, because learned +Master Passai, ordinarily a miracle of gravity, had so given himself up +to mirth that he was forced to lean back against the Prince's cabinet. + +"Let me come in, Master Passai!" cried the inquisitive Prince, and +succeeding shortly afterwards in opening the door, the cause of the +general mirth was immediately obvious to him. + +The Abb Reverend stood in the centre of the room in full Hungarian +costume. A more comical figure was scarcely conceivable. + +The worthy gentleman, who rejoiced in the possession of a really +redoubtable corporation, standing there, clean shaven and benignly +smiling, presented an amiably ludicrous figure, of which only an +Hungarian, or one who knows what a severe criterion of the human figure +the tight-fitting Magyar costume really is, can form any idea. Add to +this that the worthy Frenchman, in his stiff hose and spurred +jack-boots, moved about as gingerly as if he feared every moment to fall +on his nose. He had also forgotten to buckle on his girdle, which lent a +peculiar quaintness to his general get-up, and his long bag-wig, in +which he looked like a lion, was surmounted by a tiny round cap from +which waved a gigantic heron plume. + +Apafi did not see why he too should not smile when the others laughed. + +Monsieur Reverend, with that facility peculiar to Frenchmen of coupling +gaiety with solemnity, tripped at once up to the Prince and said-- + +"Your Highness's persistent refusal to receive me made me assume that +perchance I did not present myself becomingly attired, and my present +good-fortune demonstrates the correctness of my assumption, for the +moment I present myself in Magyar costume I am lucky enough to behold +you." + +"Parbleu, Monsieur!" returned Apafi, repressing his merriment with +difficulty, "I am always glad to see you on condition that politics are +banished from our discourse. But you have not fastened on your scarf, +and without the scarf a person in the Magyar dress looks for all the +world like a Frenchman who has forgotten to put on his breeches." + +With these words the Prince produced a scarf adorned with gems, and tied +it with his own hands round the respectable waist of Monsieur Reverend. + +"And what's this? Who taught you to stuff your pocket-handkerchief into +your trousers pocket? Only heydukes do that. What the deuce! A nobleman +always keeps his pocket-handkerchief in his kalpag. So! Hem! What a +beautiful pocket-handkerchief you've got!" + +"Splendid, is it not?" + +"Indeed it is! A garland pattern in silk thread, with gold and silver +embroideries at the corners. Only Paris can produce the like of this." + +"And yet it was manufactured in Transylvania." + +"You don't say so?" + +"Yes; and what is more, in this very place, in Ebesfalva." + +Apafi looked at Monsieur Reverend with amazement. + +"And I not to know the artistic hands which work such beautiful things!" + +"But your Highness does know them. The name of the fair artist will be +found embroidered in gorgeous Gothic letters on the hem of the +handkerchief." + +Apafi carefully examined all the corners of the handkerchief one after +the other. Each had a different device embroidered on it--here a wreath +of oak-leaves, there a trophy, in the third a Turkish scimitar, an +Hungarian sabre, and a French sword bound together by a ribbon. At last +he came to the fourth corner, where, beneath a princely coronet, was +embroidered the word _Apafin_.[27] + + [Footnote 27: _Apafin_ = Lady Apafi. The "n" is a + feminine suffix.] + +The Prince read the name aloud. All who stood around looked at Apafi's +face with fearful suspense, as if they expected an explosion of wrath. +To every one's surprise, however, the Prince only smiled, stuck the +pocket-handkerchief into Monsieur Reverend's kalpag, cocked it rakishly +on the ambassador's head, and said to him with peculiar _bonhomie_-- + +"So you have succeeded in seducing my wife, eh?" + +Reverend laughed awkwardly at what was a rather ambiguous jest so far as +he was concerned. + +"Me, however, you shall not seduce," added Apafi, smiling. + +Reverend bowed deeply; then, throwing back his head, he observed +archly-- + +"That will be brought about also, I hope, though by mightier than I." + +At that moment the door opened and a servant announced--"Her Highness, +Dame Anna of Bornemissa, his Highness's consort, desires an audience of +the Prince." + +Apafi looked at Teleki. + +"This is all your doing." + +Teleki calmly replied--"It is, your Highness." + +"You have besieged us in form?" + +"I do not deny it, your Highness." + +"It was you who brought the ambassador to the Princess?" + +"Such is indeed the case, your Highness." + +"And it was you who then advised him to present himself in this +masquerade in order to lure me hither more easily?" + +"I did it all, your Highness." + +"Then you have done a very foolish thing, Master Michael Teleki." + +"That remains to be seen, your Highness," replied the minister proudly, +conscious of his own intellectual superiority. + +Meanwhile Dame Apafi had entered the room; her princely robes well +became her princely aspect. All the gentlemen present hastened forward +to do her homage. But Apafi also advanced quickly towards her, put his +arm through hers, and with marked tenderness endeavoured to lead her +into his cabinet. + +"No; let us remain here," cried the Princess; "there will be plenty of +time later on to look at your Dutch clocks. Far more serious matters +claim our attention first. These gentlemen from Hungary desire an +audience." + +Apafi exploded at once. + +"I know beforehand what they want, and I have declared once for all that +I will hear no more of the matter." + +"But you will surely listen to me. I too am an Hungarian woman, and in +the name of my fatherland I implore the Prince of Transylvania for help. +None shall say that I rule the Prince in secret. Look now, I advance +openly before his throne, and I beg of him protection for Hungary, whose +sons are called strangers in Transylvania, though I, her daughter, am +the Princess." + +From Apafi's looks it was clear that he would much rather have listened +to the Hungarian gentlemen than to his own consort. But he was caught in +a trap. She stood before him as a petitioner. There was no escape. + +Teleki bade the pages in waiting at the door admit no one else. Apafi, +with a gesture of impatience, sat down in an arm-chair, and resigned +himself to listen to his consort; but Anna had scarcely commenced to +speak, when the rattling of a coach was heard in the courtyard, and +shortly afterwards heavy footsteps resounded in the corridors, and a +stern, dictatorial voice, with which every one appeared to be familiar, +asked if the Prince was in. The pages said No, and tried to stop the +intruder, but exclaiming, "Out of my way, you brats!" he burst open the +door and forced his way into the room. It was none other than Denis +Banfi. + +He had just descended from his carriage. His cheeks were much redder +than usual, and his eyes sparkled. He went straight towards the Prince +and cried, without the slightest preamble-- + +"Do not listen to these gentlemen, your Highness! Do not listen to a +single word." + +The Prince smiled and greeted Banfi. + +"God preserve you, my cousin," said he. + +"Pardon me, your Highness, if in my great haste I neglected to salute +you; but when I heard that the Hungarian gentlemen were here in +audience, I was quite beside myself with rage. What do you want?" +continued he, turning towards the Hungarians; "not satisfied, I suppose, +with ruining your own country with your unruliness, you must needs come +hither to disturb us likewise?" + +"You speak of us," remarked Teleki, with quiet sarcasm, "as if we +belonged to some outlandish Tartar stock, and as if we had been cast +hither from heaven only knows what sort of savage, distant land." + +"On the contrary, I know you only too well, ye Hungarian lords. I speak +of you as men whose turbulence has, time out of mind, been ruinous to +Transylvania. The people of Hungary are idiots one and all." + +"I beg you not to lose sight of the fact that I too am one of them," +said the Princess. + +"I know it; and it is with anything but satisfaction that I see the will +of your Highness predominant here." + +Dame Apafi, with an expression of wounded dignity, turned towards her +brother-in-law. + +"Whatever you may say, I will not cease to be your good kinswoman and +well-wisher," and with these words she quitted the room. + +"You might at least have addressed the Prince more becomingly," remarked +Teleki, sharply. + +"Have I then spoken one word to the Prince?" asked Banfi, shrugging his +shoulders. "How can I even reach his Highness when you are always +standing in the way? I am and always will be the enemy of those who have +no right whatever to stand on the steps of the throne, and you are one +of them, Master Michael Teleki. Oh, don't imagine that the reasons which +make you so enthusiastic in the Hungarian cause are hidden from me. You +are not content with being the first in Transylvania after the Prince; +you would fain become Palatine of Hungary[28] as well. Ha! ha! how you +all befool one another. The French promise aid to the Hungarians; the +Hungarians promise Teleki the dignity of Palatine; Teleki promises Apafi +a kingly crown, and ye lie, the whole lot of you; ye deceive and are +deceived." + + [Footnote 28: _Palatine_ (Hungarian: "_Nador_"). The + Palatine was the highest dignitary in Hungary after the + King. The dignity was instituted soon after the year + 1000, but since 1848 has been found incompatible with + modern parliamentary government.] + +"Sir," replied Teleki, bitterly, "is that the way to speak to guests, to +exiled, unhappy fellow-countrymen?" + +"Don't teach me how to be generous," retorted Banfi, proudly. "At my +house the poor and the persecuted have ever found an asylum, and if +these fugitive gentlemen wish us to share house and home with them, I'm +ready to do so. Here's my hand upon it. But just as I should be out of +my senses to burn my own house down, so now too I protest against the +conflagration of my country; and if you do not cease from troubling a +peaceful land, I'll leave no stone unturned till I have driven you all +out." + +"We ought not to be surprised at this tone, my friends," said Teleki, +with bitter scorn, turning towards the Hungarians. "His Excellency here +has been so very recently amnestied by the Prince, that he imagines he +is still at war with us." + +Apafi, who had been sitting on burning coals, now interposed. + +"Cease this bickering. We dismiss you all. You see that sundry of our +councillors are against the matter, and without their consent I can do +nothing." + +"Then," cried Teleki, with solemn emphasis, "we appeal to the Diet." + +"I too will be there," said Banfi. + +The Prince, very much offended, withdrew to his cabinet. The Hungarian +nobles, much excited, went out by the other door. Teleki remained +behind. Banfi, adjusting his marten-skin cap, haughtily measured his +opponent from head to foot, and exclaimed ironically as he went out--"I +leave my reputation behind me!" Teleki returned his gaze with the most +nonchalant sangfroid. + +When every one had disappeared, Teleki whispered some words to a page, +who went out and returned in a few moments with a florid, curly-headed +young man. Methinks we have seen this youth somewhere or other before, +though only for an instant which we cannot call to mind. A beggar's sack +hangs down over his ragged clothing, his hand holds a knobby stick. + +"So you permit me at last to approach the Prince?" said he, in a +somewhat dictatorial tone. + +"Sit down here by the door," replied the minister; "the Prince goes to +dinner shortly, and will pass by this way. You can then speak to him." + +The young man with the beggar's sack sat for a long time at the Prince's +door, till Apafi came out of his room on his way to dinner. The beggar +with the knapsack planted himself right in his Highness's way. + +"Who are you?" asked the Prince, much surprised. + +"I am that renowned warrior, Emerich Balassa, who once was one of the +chief men of Hungary, and now stands before your Highness with the +beggar's staff." + +"You were involved, I understand, in that conspiracy against us?" said +Apafi, disagreeably flurried. + +"That I was not, your Highness. If you would deign to listen to my tale, +then----" + +"Speak!" + +"There was once in Hungary a famous Turkish freebooter, named Corsar +Beg, who for a long time ravaged the mountain regions. The banded might +of six counties was insufficient to besiege him in his fortress. This +man I captured by subtlety. By promises and flatteries I won over his +favourite slave, who enticed him out of his stronghold by night and +alone. I, duly advertised thereof, fell upon him with horsemen ambushed +in the woods, and took captive both him and his slave, who is the most +beautiful and the most abandoned of her sex in the whole world." + +"I have heard of you, Master Balassa. It was a daring deed." + +"Listen further, your Highness. No sooner had the news of my capture +spread abroad, than the Palatine of Hungary, very emphatically, insisted +upon my handing over the prisoners to him. The Turks had already offered +me a ransom of sixteen thousand ducats for the pair, but I would not +part with the girl at any price. I therefore sent word to the Palatine +that if he wanted a Beg of his own he must catch one, for I had not +captured mine on his account." + +Apafi laughed heartily. "That was one for him!" + +"Thereupon the Palatine waxed wroth, and by the Emperor's command sent +out troops against me to rob me of my captives. Now just at this very +time, your Highness's brother-in-law, Denis Banfi, had taken refuge in +my castle, and to him I entrusted the slave, of whom I was madly +enamoured. He was to fly with her to my castle of Ecsed, and as I saw +that the Palatine was bent upon securing Corsar Beg for himself in order +to cut off his head at Buda as a warning to all malefactors, I gave the +Turk poison, which he, to escape the scaffold, thankfully accepted. +When, therefore, the troops of the Palatine arrived at my house, all +that they found there was the cold corpse, which the Turks afterwards +purchased from me for a thousand ducats." + +"The Palatine was naturally very angry, I suppose?" remarked Apafi. + +"'Twas I who had cause to be angry, for all through him I lost fifteen +thousand ducats, and yet he succeeded in obtaining an order for my +apprehension from the Emperor. I scented the danger in time, and got +together my valuables in order to fly into Transylvania, and remain +there till the affair had blown over. First of all, then, I hastened to +my castle at Ecsed, whither, as I have said, I had sent Banfi on +beforehand with the Turkish slave. While still on the way, I learnt that +Banfi had been restored by your Highness's amnesty to his former +position. I rejoiced greatly thereat, supposing that I now had in him a +powerful protector. Nevertheless, on reaching Ecsed, I found no sign or +trace of the girl. My castellan there informed me that Banfi had carried +her off with him, and left a letter behind for me, which contained the +following words--'Learn from this, my friend, that there are three +things you should never entrust to another--your horse, your watch, and +your mistress!'" + +"What!" cried Apafi; "is this really true?" + +"Pray let your Highness look at his own writing," and he drew the letter +in question out of his leather knapsack. "He is said to have concealed +the girl somewhere in his forests at Banfi-Hunyad." + +Apafi turned scarlet with rage. + +"'Tis monstrous!" cried he. "This fellow possesses a virtuous and lovely +wife of his own--my consort's own sister--and yet he can so far forget +his duty as a husband! I'll not put up with it!" + +"Pardon me, your Highness; I have nothing more to do with Banfi now. My +complaint is against one Kapi, who had the usufruct of my Transylvanian +property. Not wishing, then, to have anything more to do with Banfi, I +took up my quarters with Kapi at Aranyosi Castle. Your Highness, the +pomp which that man displays exceeds anything that I have ever seen, and +I have seen many princely and palatinal courts in my day. His wife never +uses her feet at all. Even if she wants to get to the door, she is +carried thither in a gilded sedan-chair, and she never wears a dress +more than once!" + +"But what have I to do with the frippery of Dame Kapi?" + +"I'm coming to that. Her love of display costs money, and has compelled +her husband to resort to fraudulent practices. And besides, such +extravagance concerns your Highness also, as tending to emphasize the +contrast already apparent between the frugal simplicity of your +Highness's court and the dazzling pomp of these petty kings--a contrast +which has already made a pretty deep impression upon our foreign +visitors. Thus, quite recently, the Bavarian minister, who had come from +a banquet at Ebesfalva to Aranyosi, remarked in a flattering tone to +Dame Kapi, in my hearing, that she was the real Princess of +Transylvania." + +"He said that, did he?" cried the Prince, becoming much interested. "Go +on with your narrative. So he said that Kapi's wife was the real +Princess, eh?" + +"Yet strip from off her her costly pearls and diamonds, and you will see +that in regard to beauty and majesty she is not fit to lace the shoes of +her Highness the Princess Apafi." + +"Go on! go on!" + +"Well, one fine day this same Kapi came to me, and told me that your +Highness had been commanded by the Palatine to arrest and deliver me +over to him." + +"I receive a command! I know absolutely nothing about it." + +"Unfortunately I believed his words, and imagining myself caught between +two fires, I made over my Transylvanian property to Kapi to save it from +confiscation, he at the same time delivering to me an undertaking to +re-transfer the estates as soon as possible. Meanwhile I resolved to fly +to Poland, and stay there till the storm blew over. Kapi gave me two +guides, who were to conduct me through the mountain-passes to the +frontier; but at the same time he secretly informed the frontier +sentinels that I was a spy sent by the Emperor to explore Transylvania, +and was now desirous of returning unobserved. So the rogues waylaid me, +robbed me of all my money and papers, and dragged me to Fehervar, where +my innocence came to light, but my money and papers were of course +hopelessly lost. And now this Kapi actually maintains that I sold him +all my property, and I've nothing in the world but this leather knapsack +round my neck, with which I must now beg my way about." + +"Be of good cheer. I will give you the most exemplary satisfaction," +returned the enraged Prince. + +"It is a matter which also concerns your Highness's own dignity," +replied Balassa. "These great lords behave in as high-handed a fashion +as if they had absolutely no superior." + +"Be easy. I will very soon show them who is the real Prince of +Transylvania." + +Apafi, full of indignation, then left the audience-chamber. + +A storm was gathering over the heads of two great men who stood in +Teleki's way. + + + + +BOOK II. + +THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE PATROL. + + +Clement the Clerk stuck his pen behind his ear and recited to himself +the elegant verses which he had just composed, two hundred strophes in +all, almost every line of which ended in _fuerat_, with a sporadic +_fuisset_ in between. + +Michael Apafi used regularly to repent whenever he had offended any one, +and he therefore could not rest till he had compensated the itinerant +scholar Clement for the snub he had administered to him, and this he did +by making the unsophisticated poet his----Patrol-officer. + +In those days many agreeable duties were connected with this +office--duties which Clement simply left alone, devoting himself instead +to the composition of epics and chronicles, which he manufactured in +great abundance. + +At that moment he was casting his eyes over a great epic, in which he +recorded how his Highness, Prince Michael Apafi, had gone out against +rsekjvr to besiege it; how with splendid valour he had arrived there; +how, on beholding the foe, he had drawn his sword; how, after mature +deliberation, he had turned back again; and how, finally, he and all his +heroes had returned home again safe and sound. + +Poetic distraction had so completely absorbed the faculties of Clement +the Clerk, that a week had already elapsed since his servant had made +off with his master's spurred jack-boots, without the latter, in his +capacity of Patrol-officer, thinking of pursuing the runaway; but in +fact he was confined within a vicious circle, inasmuch as every time he +thought of inquiring for his boots, it occurred to him that his servant +had stolen them; and every time he thought of going out and inquiring +for his servant, it occurred to him that he had no boots. What could he +do then under such circumstances but sit down again, and write poems in +absolutely endless quantities? + +His room had not been swept out for weeks, naturally therefore there was +no lack of dust and cobwebs; but, by way of contrast, the deal floor all +around the solitary table was mottled with ink-blots. The table itself +had only two legs, the place of the others being supplied by layers of +bricks. + +The poet scribbles, erases, and nibbles at his pen; on the window-sill +lies a piece of bread and some cheese; it occurs to the poet that it has +been put there for him to eat; but first he must use up the ink still +remaining in his pen, and in doing so another idea occurs to him, and +after that a third, and then a fourth; meanwhile mice come skipping out +of a hole beneath the window-sill, frisk about the bread and cheese, +nibble away at it till not a morsel remains, and then skip back into +their holes again. The poet having wearied out his Pegasus, starts up, +looks for his bread and cheese, and perceiving that only the crumbs +remain on the window-sill, concludes that he has already eaten his fill, +so sits him down again and goes on writing. + +While he is thus plaguing himself for the benefit of posterity, somebody +begins scratching at the door, and after groping about the door-hinge in +search of the door-latch, finds it at last, and shakes it to and fro as +if he does not know what to do with it. This disturbance disagreeably +awakens Clement the Clerk out of his poetic reveries, who, after vainly +exclaiming in a loud and angry voice that the door is not bolted, finds +himself at last obliged to rise from his seat and open the door himself, +lest the importunate visitor should break off the latch or lift the door +bodily from its hinges. + +Before him, with a sealed letter in his hand, stands a gaping Wallach +peasant, who appears extraordinarily terrified to see the door open, +though that was the very thing he had been aiming at all along. + +"Well, what is it?" snapped Clement the Clerk, horribly angry. "Why +don't you speak?" + +The Wallach raised his round eyebrows, which looked, for all the world, +like a charcoal smear extending from his nostrils to his temples, and +which also served him as a kind of propeller for shoving backwards and +forwards the lamb's-wool cap that he wore half over his face, looked at +the poet with wide-open eyes, and asked him-- + +"Are you he whom they pay to tell lies?" + +The Wallach meant no offence by this terminology. It was only his +roundabout way of describing Clement the Clerk's sphere of activity. + +The poet was almost choking with rage. + +"And whose ox are you?" he exclaimed furiously. + +"The ox of his Excellency who sent this letter," he answered with +perfect simplicity. + +"What is your master's name?" cried Clement, angrily snatching the +letter out of the Wallach's hand. + +"They call him Excellency." + +Clement tore open the letter and read as follows--"I want a word or two +with you; follow the bearer whithersoever he leads you." + +Clement was wroth enough already, but the reflection that he was +summoned away on important business, and had no boots to go in, was the +last straw. He was quite beside himself. + +"Go," cried he to the Wallach, "and tell your master, whoever he may be, +that he is as near to me as I am to him; if he wants to speak to me, let +him take the trouble to come hither. Do you understand?" + +"I understand, Dumni Macska" (Mister Pussy), returned the Wallach, +involuntarily using in his fright the nickname secretly given by the +Roumanian peasants to the Patrol-officer when he is making his rounds; +and with that he slouched out of the room. + +Meanwhile Clement, with a great muscular effort, had climbed on to his +high-backed chair again, and placed two huge folios upright on the floor +in front of him, so that his coming visitor might not see that he was +bare-footed. + +In a short time strident, energetic footsteps were audible outside, and +Clement the Clerk, peeping out of the window, perceived to his no small +confusion that his visitor was none other than his Excellency, Count +Ladislaus Csaky, accompanied by two gold-laced heydukes. + +"Clement," thought the clerk to himself, "now's the time to assert your +dignity! No doubt his lordship is a great man and a high; but, on the +other hand, he is in the Prince's bad books, while you, my boy, are in +high favour at court, and a public officer to boot." So he hid his feet +behind his books, stuck his pen between his lips, and when Csaky came in +did not so much as offer him a seat. + +Csaky seemed much put out by this reception. + +"You have a very high opinion of your official dignity," said he to +Clement. + +"I am what I am thanks to the favour of the Prince," returned Clement +haughtily, crossing his arms with an air of importance. + +"I too have come hither by the Prince's command. His Highness has just +entrusted me with a very delicate errand, in which I need your help; but +the affair must be managed with the utmost secrecy, and that was why I +wanted you to come out to me." + +At this explanation Clement the Clerk forgot his dignity altogether. + +"I beg you a thousand pardons," stammered he in great confusion, and +with meekly-bowed head. "I did not know--pray be seated!" As however +there was no other chair in the room but that on which he sat, he sprang +down from it to give place to the Count, thereby revealing the fact that +his feet were minus their legitimate coverings, at which Csaky laughed +till his jaws ached. + +"Why, deuce take it, Mr. Officer, is it from a feeling of excessive +reverence that you take off your boots like the Turks do?" + +"I beg your pardon! I have not taken them off; but my servant ran away +with them while I slept, and that was the sole reason why I was forced +to send your lordship that churlish message, which I hope your lordship +has long since forgotten." + +At this Csaky's mirth became downright uproarious. + +"Well, if that is all, we will soon find a remedy," said he to Clement; +and calling the heydukes, bade them fetch at once his own parade boots +out of his carriage. + +Clement instantly began to raise objections: he could not think of it; +the honour was too great. But when his eyes fell upon the boots, they +took his fancy immediately, for they were made of the finest green +morocco, sewn with gold thread, trimmed on both sides with galloon, and +provided with enamelled spurs. + +"Quick! on with them!" cried Csaky to the Patrol-officer; "for you must +set out upon your journey without delay." + +So Clement the Clerk seized one of the boots by the tags, and after +bestowing a smile upon it, proceeded to pull it on. But this of itself +was no light labour, for Csaky wore very small, tight-fitting, +gentlemanlike boots, whereas Clement the Clerk was a very large-footed +animal; so that it was not till after three desperate struggles had +completely exhausted him that he managed to get one foot half-way down +the leg of the first boot, and all the time he made such grimaces that +Ladislaus Csaky had to put his head out of the window to hide his +merriment. When he got as far as the heel, he stuck fast again, so that +he had to seize the straps with both hands and stamp his way down, +hopping round the room all the while, with his body forming a complete +curve, and groaning aloud at every forward shove; so that by the time he +had wriggled into one boot, the eyes of the poor poet were almost +starting from their sockets, and the sweat trickled from his cheeks. + +Similar difficulties awaited the good Patrol-officer with the second +foot; but after working with six-horse power to force his foot into a +receptacle never intended for it, he was at last able, with the +ruddiness of satisfaction on his cheeks, to take a smiling survey of his +gorgeous, tight-fitting boots, which harmonized so delightfully with the +other dusty, greasy, ink-bespattered constituent parts of his dress. + +"Now, mark what I say!" said Csaky, sitting down with a lordly air on +the solitary chair, whilst the clerk, standing before him, raised first +one and then the other leg aloft, at the same time uttering a peculiar +hissing sound, and turning a livid green and blue in his agony, for the +boots had now begun to play havoc with his corns. "When did you last go +your rounds?" + +"I really don't know." + +"But you ought to know. Why don't you make a note of it? The Prince +wishes you to go your rounds at once, and you must look particularly +sharp after all the places between Toroczko, Banfi-Hunyad, and +Bonczhida. Besides the usual questions, you must ask the people whether +they have seen any foreign wild beast in the surrounding woods." + +"Foreign wild beast?" mechanically repeated the wretched Patrol-officer. + +"And if at any place they tell you they have seen such beast, you must +go personally into the districts indicated, and search till you come +upon its track." + +"I cry your Excellency's pardon! but what manner of beast may it be?" +asked the student timidly. + +"Come, come! don't be afraid! It is neither a seven-headed dragon nor +yet a minotaur, but only a young panther." + +"A panther!" stammered the terrified Clement. + +"You are not expected to catch it," said Csaky cheerily. "You have only +to discover its hiding-place and let me know." + +"And if this wild beast--whose existence indeed in Transylvania I very +much doubt--should stray into the territory of Denis Banfi," asked +Clement, "what am I to do then?" + +"You must go after it." + +"I cry your Excellency's pardon, but his property is a _liber +baronatus_, where my jurisdiction ceases." + +"Don't be so stupid, Clement," said Csaky. "I never said you were to +repair thither _vi et armis_: the whole expedition must remain a secret. +You have only to follow the wild beast's track. We have it, on the best +authority, that the beast is somewhere in the neighbourhood, and we +trust to your dexterity to spot it. The rest will be done by more +enterprising people than yourself." + +Clement regarded the mission as altogether odd and risky, but he dared +not raise any objection, so he simply bowed low and sighed deeply. + +"Above all things we must have dexterity, expedition, and secrecy. Keep +that constantly in mind." + +"I will go at once," cried Clement desperately; "but first I must borrow +me a horse from some one or other, for I should not like to utterly ruin +these beautiful boots by walking in them." + +"That too would be a little too slow for our purpose. But don't bother +your head about a horse. One of my heydukes will give you his, which you +must mount at once. Remember however to give him oats occasionally, as I +don't want him to come back all skin and bone." + +Clement the Clerk, quite confounded by so much graciousness, hastily +shouldered his shabby knapsack, fastened his rusty sword to his side, +and after placing in his knapsack a roll of parchment, a goose-quill, +and a wooden ink-horn, declared himself ready to depart. + +"You have a very light equipment," remarked Csaky. + +"_Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu_," +returned the philosopher with a classical flourish, and when the reins +had been placed in his hands, he prepared to mount. But the aristocratic +charger, as soon as he perceived that the clerk had one foot in the +stirrups, began to plunge, buck, and run round and round, thereby +compelling the aspiring poet to hop along with him on one foot, till the +laughing heydukes seized the horse by the bridle, and helped the +unpractised horseman into the saddle. As however he had very long legs, +and the wicked heydukes had lashed the stirrups up very high, he was +obliged to squat upon the horse as if it had been a camel. + +Ladislaus Csaky bawled after him once more not to forget what he had +told him, whereupon the poet, quite unintentionally, gave his horse the +spur, and dashed madly off at full tilt over stock and stone. Mantle, +sabre, and knapsack flew about the ears of the unfortunate horseman, who +held on to his saddle with both hands in mortal agony, to the intense +delight of the whole population of Toroczko, who were sitting in groups +outside their houses on their _beard-driers_, as the benches used to be +called in those days. + + * * * * * + +First of all the Patrol-officer took the road to Abrudbnya. Formerly, +while he still had a servant, Clement used to leave all the pioneering +to him; but now he was forced to find his way from village to village +himself, with the occasional assistance of the country magistrates. + +He had just quitted the narrow mountain path, and was ambling slowly +over a dilapidated bridge, which spanned a brawling stream, when he +perceived in the thicket a group of dirty-looking men crouching over a +large fire. At first he took them for gipsies, but, approaching nearer, +was horrified to discover that they were Tartars, who had dismounted +from their horses, and were sitting round an ox which they had roasted +whole. + +To turn back was scarcely advisable; but the road he was following went +straight past the diners. Clement was in a fix; but he determined at +last to put a bold face on the matter, so he trotted by the gaping group +with affected nonchalance, pretending to be intent all the while on +calculating the exact number of acorns on the wayside oaks, and merely +raised his hat to the Tartars with a brief "_Salem aleikum!_" when he +came close up to them, as if he only then perceived them for the first +time, passing quickly on without looking once behind him. + +So far all was well, but at that very moment two of the Tartars sprang +up from the fire and called to the rider to stop. Clement, perceiving +that they were both unarmed, argued therefrom that they had no murderous +designs upon him, and therefore halted and awaited them. + +No sooner had the two dog-headed figures come up to him, one on each +side, than they caught hold of his legs and displayed no less an +intention than to rob him of his beautiful boots. + +"Would you? ye sons of Belial!" cried Clement, beside himself with rage, +and grasping the hilt of his sword he tried to pull it from its leather +sheath, in order to cut off the ears of his assailants forthwith. But +the good blade, which had not quitted its sheath for ten years, had +grown so rusty that Clement, despite all his endeavours, could not pluck +it forth, and in the meantime the two Tartars pulled the wriggling rider +hither and thither by the legs, naturally without succeeding in +loosening the tight-fitting boots in the least. The Tartars reviled +Clement, and Clement reviled the Tartars: their language was perfectly +horrible. + +The noise brought the Aga to the spot--an ourang-outang-like object +whose mahogany features were framed by a white beard--and he asked in a +hoarse whisper what was the matter. + +Clement the Clerk at once drew his credentials from the pocket of his +mente, and shook it in the Aga's face--he was too wrathful to +speak--while the Tartars, pointing with frantic gestures at the boots, +jabbered something to the Aga. + +"Who art thou, O bow-legged unbeliever!" asked the Aga, "that thou dost +presume to wear on thy lowest extremities, on thy mud-wading feet, +forsooth! the sacred colour of the Prophet, that radiant green which the +faithful may only behold on the arches of their mosques and on the +turban of the Padishah? Thou shalt be burned alive, thou godless +Giaour!" + +"I am the Patrol-officer of his Highness Prince Michael Apafi!" +declaimed the ex-student, with terrified pathos. "My person is sacred +and inviolable. I am he who provides the host of the sublime Sultan with +meat and drink; I proclaim and collect the taxes, so let me go, for I am +a very important personage." + +This mode of defence pleased the Tartars. The Aga exchanged glances with +his subalterns, as much as to say--"This is the very man we want!" and +addressed him again in a more friendly tone. + +"Dost thou indeed collect the taxes? Look now! my master, Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein, has sent me hither to notify to the people a fresh +imposition. Allah hath clearly brought us together. Thou wilt act +discreetly then by proclaiming the new tax at once. It is no more than +thy duty." + +"I'll do so gladly," replied Clement, who made as if he were going. + +"Stay, my son," said the Aga, beckoning to him. "Thou dost not even know +yet the amount of the new tax. 'Tis a mere trifle, and only imposed by +way of showing that we are the masters here. 'Tis only a farthing per +head. That's not much, I'm sure." + +"Nothing at all!" assented Clement, eager to be off. + +"Not so fast! not so fast!" remonstrated the Aga. "I shall not be best +pleased if thou dost disobey my orders; but as I know that thou dost not +regard it as perjury to break promises made to us, I'll tell off one of +my brave fellows here to accompany thee from village to village, and +take care that thou dost duly proclaim the new tax whithersoever thou +goest." + +"It is well, gracious sir," said Clement meekly, with the mental +reservation of ridding himself of the brave fellow at the very next +village. + +"Mount your horse, Zlfikar," cried the Aga to one of his servants. + +The person addressed was an evil-looking fellow with a malignant squint. +Although just as dirty as the others, it was clear from his physiognomy +that he was not made of the same stuff, and if we condescended to bestow +any thought at all upon such low people, it might even occur to us that +we had seen him somewhere else before. + +"As for thee," said the Aga to Clement, who was anxious to be off at any +price, "take off thy boots as soon as thou gettest home, and if ever I +meet thee with them on again, thou shalt receive from me five hundred +strokes on the soles of thy feet, which thou wilt have cause to +recollect even on thy wedding-day." + +Clement the Clerk said "Yes" to everything, rejoiced that he had got off +at last, and trotted off towards Abrudbnya. His Tartar escort rode +faithfully by his side. + +From time to time the Patrol-officer cast a sidelong glance at his +companion, only quickly to avert his eyes again, for as the Tartar +squinted horribly, Clement could never exactly make out which way he +was looking. Clement was thinking all the while how easily he would give +the Tartar the slip, smiled to himself at the thought, winked with both +eyes, and nodded his head with a self-satisfied air. + +"Mr. Patrol-officer, don't fancy you will circumvent me as you go your +rounds!" exclaimed the Tartar suddenly, in the purest Hungarian, as if +he could read Clement's thought from his face. + +Clement was so aghast that he almost fell from his horse. How the deuce +could the fellow snap up his very thoughts, and speak Hungarian despite +his Tartardom? + +"Don't bother your head about me any more," continued the Turk calmly. +"I am an Hungarian renegade who was once in the service of Emerich +Balassa. I had a hand in the capture and poisoning of Corsar Beg, and +when the Hungarians began to persecute me on that account, I turned +Turk. If the Prophet befriend me, I may yet rise to be Kapudan Pasha. +Pray don't imagine you can bamboozle a wily old fox like me." + +Clement, completely disconcerted, could only scratch his head, proceeded +with his escort from village to village, and after accomplishing his +regular official business, proclaimed the fresh imposition of a farthing +per head, which the people everywhere received most favourably, in many +cases even paying it down at once to his Tartar comrade. + +But no one knew anything about the panther. Indeed, but for the respect +inspired by his gallooned green boots, the Patrol-officer would have +been laughed out of countenance. + +Only one little Wallachian village up in the mountains, called Marisel, +was yet to be visited, and beyond that place began the domains of Baron +Banfi, where the jurisdiction of the Patrol-officer terminated. + +Thither also the renegade followed him. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SANGE MOARTE.[29] + + +The Patrol-officer and his companion had already been travelling for +half the day across the Batrina moor on their way to Marisel. Clement +kept on asking every living soul he met where the village was, and +always received the same answer--"Further on!" + + [Footnote 29: _Sange moarte._ Dead blood (Roumanian).] + +From time to time they met a Wallachian peasant reviling the team of +sluggish oxen spanned to his huge wagon, and vainly endeavouring to make +them quicken their pace; then there were ponds to be waded, where +half-naked gipsy bands, in picturesque rags, were washing gold-dust out +of the sand, and stared at the Tartar as if he were a wild beast; here +and there, in the mossy hollow of a wayside tree, stood an icon, the +pale, weather-worn gilding of which being all that remained of its once +gorgeous colouring; in the worm-eaten niche stood the _pomana_,[30] a +pitcher of pure spring water which the traditional piety of the young +Wallachian maidens had placed there for the refreshment of thirsty +travellers. + + [Footnote 30: _Pomana_, or _pomena_. An alms, a + voluntary free succour. The etymology is obscure. Some + opine that it is a corruption of _per_ and _manus_.] + +The road now went up hill and down dale; for the greater part of the way +they had to lead their horses. All around stood the ever-changing +wilderness; lofty, perpendicular beeches, terebinthine oaks, with an +occasional dark-green pine. At last they reached a point where the road +divided. One branch of it ran right down into the valley, the other +wound obliquely up to the summit of a bald bleak hill, from which a +projecting rock hung down so precipitately that it seemed ready to fall +every moment. + +"Well, whither shall we turn now?" asked Clement, hesitating. "I have +never come so far as this before." + +"Let us follow the road," returned Zlfikar; "none but a fool would risk +his neck up that steep cliff." + +Clement looked about him in great perplexity, and suddenly perceived a +man sitting on the rock which so precipitately overhung the path. It was +a young Wallach with a pale face and long, flowing curls; his sheep-skin +jacket was open at the breast, his cap lay beside him on the ground. +There he sat in a reverie, on the very edge of the lofty rock, with his +feet dangling in empty space, his stony countenance resting on his +hands, and his eyes staring glassily into the remote distance. + +"Hi! you up there! _ungye mra ista via?_"[31] cried Clement, in a +jargon which was half Latin and half Wallachian. + + [Footnote 31: _Ungye mra ista via?_ "Whither goes this + road?" The first two words are Roumanian.] + +The Wallach did not appear to hear the question; he remained in just the +same position, blankly staring and immovable. + +"He is either deaf or dead," said Zlfikar, after they had both bawled +themselves hoarse at him in vain. "The best thing we can do is to follow +the beaten track," and off they set at a trot. The Wallach did not so +much as look after them. + +Evening was drawing nigh, and the road to Marisel seemed absolutely +endless. It went out of one valley into another, without passing a +single human habitation, and the huge boulders and fierce mountain +torrents, which they came upon at frequent intervals, made it almost +impassable. At last they perceived, somewhere in the wood, a fire +burning, and a monotonous chant struck upon their ears. On approaching +nearer, they saw an immense pyre, made of the trunks of trees, burning +in a forest glade, and shaded by oaks, the foliage of which was singed +red by the long tongues of flame which flickered up to their very +summits. + +Not far from the pyre, a band of Wallachs were dancing with savage +gesticulations, striking the ground at the same time with their massive +clubs. Their twirling feet seemed to be writing mystic characters in the +soil, and all the while they brandished their arms and howled forth +metrical curses as if they were exorcising some evil spirit. + +Around the men twined a wreath of young girls, holding one another by +the hand, and twirling in a contrary direction. These young and charming +forms, with their black, plaited tresses interwoven with pearls and +ribbons; their flowered petticoats, cambric smocks, and broad, striped +aprons; their tinkling gold spangles, or strings of silver coins about +their round necks and their tiny, high-heeled shoes, formed a pleasant +contrast to the wild, ferocious figures of the men, with their high +sheepskin hats perched upon their shaggy, unkempt hair, their sunburnt, +naked necks, greasy _kdurns_,[32] broad brass buckles, and large +ox-hide sandals. + + [Footnote 32: _Kdurn._ A rough, fur jacket.] + +Both dance and song were peculiar. The girls, all hand in hand, flew +round the men, singing a plaintive, dreamy sort of dirge, while the men +stamped fiercely on the ground and uttered an intermittent wail. The +fire blazing beside them cast a red glare, intermingled with dark +flitting shadows, on the wild group. Some distance behind, on the stump +of a tree, sat an old bagpiper with his pipes under his arm. The +tortured goatskin's monotonous discord blended with the savage harmony +of the song. + +When the pyre had nearly burnt itself out, the dancers suddenly +dispersed, dragged forward a female effigy stuffed with straw and +clothed in rags, placed it on two poles, and with loud cries of "Marcze +Zre! Marcze Zre!"[33] held it over the fire; then, exclaiming in +chorus--"Burn to ashes, accursed Wednesday-evening witch!" they threw it +into the glowing embers. The girls then danced round the fire with cries +of joy till the witch was burned, when the men, with a wild yell, rushed +among the embers and trod them out. + + [Footnote 33: _Marcze Zre_ = Wednesday witch, hags + possessing peculiar power on Wednesday evenings, + according to the Wallachs.] + +"Who are ye, and what are you doing here?" cried Clement the Clerk to +the Wallachs, who hitherto had not taken the slightest notice of him. + +"We are they of Marisel who have burned Marcze Zre," answered the +peasants unanimously, with the grave faces of men who had just done +something uncommonly wise. + +"Well, be quick about it, and then come back to the village, for I am +here by command of the Prince, my master, to put the usual questions to +you." + +"And I," put in Zlfikar, "am here by command of the mighty Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein to levy a new tax." + +The Wallachs watched the Patrol-officer till he was quite out of sight +without uttering a word; but they shook their fists after him and +exclaimed--"May Marcze Zre take him!" + +Then, with the bagpiper in front, they formed into a long procession and +marched, loudly singing, down towards the distant village. + + * * * * * + +It was a long, straggling, Wallachian hamlet at which the patrollers now +arrived--one house exactly like another; low clay huts with lofty roofs +and projecting eaves, surrounded by quick-set hedges, the doors so low +that one had to stoop in order to enter. Every house consisted of a +single room, in which the whole family, parents and children, goats and +poultry, lived together. At the entrance of the village stood a gigantic +triumphal arch made of marble blocks; over the principal portal was the +torso of a Minerva; on the faade were battle-pieces in high relief, and +beneath them this Latin inscription in large Roman letters--"This town +has been built by the unconquerable Trajan as a memorial of his +triumph!" And behind the arch a heap of wretched clay huts! + +On the capitol of a fallen Corinthian column, in front of the village +dead-house, sits the _prefika_, the oldest old woman in the place, +lamenting with meretricious tears over the dead young maiden who lies +within. On the side of a grass-grown hill close at hand one sees a round +stone building, raised once upon a time, no doubt, in memory of some +Roman hero; but the Wallachian population has turned it into a church, +covered it with a pointed roof, and daubed the interior with hideous +paintings. + +The Patrol-officer called the people together into the church, which was +the only public building in the place. The crowd stood around him, the +old men leaning on their crutches. The blood-red rays of sunset pierced +through the round window-panes, giving a peculiar appearance to the +interior of the venerable edifice, whose walls were daubed all over with +figures of grotesque saints, whom the monstrous fancy of the rustic +artist had provided with scarlet mantles and spurred jack-boots. Amongst +so many pictures of the marvellous, that well-known allegory which +represents Death as a skeleton, dragging off with him a king, a beggar, +and a priest, was not lacking, and scattered among the icons were a few +bandy-legged fiends derisively stretching out their tongues at poor +damned sinners whom they clutched tightly by the hair. + +Behind the iconastasis the priest and the Patrol-officer took their +stand, surrounded by gilded icons and consecrated candles. When Clement +had read his credentials to the people, he called to the village elder, +a tall man with large projecting teeth, to come in front of the +altar-rail, and addressed the following questions to him-- + +"Are there amongst you any sorcerers and magicians who can summon the +devil to their aid?" + +The crowd received this question with an awful whisper, and after a long +pause the magistrate replied-- + +"There was one last year, your worship, a godless villain with blotches +on his neck and body, which were patches stitched on to him by the +devil, for even when we singed them with red-hot irons he did not feel +it. We sent him to the Sanhedrim at Fehervr, where, failing to stand +the water test, he was burnt alive." + +"Are there among you any hags or vampires which injure other people's +children, make knots in men's bowels, ride through the air, colour milk +red, hatch serpents' eggs, or seek for grasses which can make them +invisible, and open barred and bolted doors?" + +This question called forth a hundred different answers. Every one tried +to communicate his own personal experiences to the interrogator; the +younger women in particular pressed upon the Patrol-officer with furious +importunity. + +"One at a time, please," cried Clement, with great dignity. "Let the +magistrate say what he knows." + +"Yes, there used to be an old witch here, worshipful sir," said the +village elder obsequiously. "We called her Dainitsa.[34] She had long +molested mankind, for her eyes were red. She could, when she chose, +bring down such storms upon the village that the wind would take off the +roofs of the houses. Once she brought a hailstorm upon us, and God's +thunderbolt smote the village in three places. Thereupon the women here +grew furious, seized her, and threw her into the pond. But even there +the witch railed upon them and said--'Take heed! You will live to beg of +me the water which you now give me to drink!' Then the women fished up +her dead body from the bottom of the pond, thrust a dart through her +heart, buried her in the valley, and rolled a large stone over her +grave. But the very next year the witch's curse came upon us. Throughout +the summer not a drop of rain fell in our district. Everything was +withered up, and our cattle carried off by the murrain. Dainitsa had +drunk up all the rain and dew. So we went to her grave, bored a large +hole therein, and filled the grave with water till it ran over, shouting +at the same time--'Drink thy fill, accursed hag! but lap not up all our +rain and dew!' And so at last the great drought came to an end." + + [Footnote 34: _Dainitsa._ She who sings in a low voice, + _i.e._ she who mutters spells. From Roumanian _daina_, + which is derived from the Hungarian _danolni_, to + sing.] + +The priest gravely vouched for the accuracy of this narrative, and +Clement made a note of it in his parchment roll. + +Now came the third question. + +"Are there any among you who dare to smoke tobacco, either by cutting up +the leaves into small fragments and putting them in his pipe, or by +roasting them on the fire and inhaling the ascending steam?" + +"There are none, sir!" returned the elder. "We do not know that dish." + +"And do not try to, for whoever is caught in the act will, in accordance +with the law of the land, have the stem of his pipe thrust through his +nose, and be led in that guise all round the market-place." + +The fourth question was this-- + +"Do any of the peasants wear cloth coats, marten-skin kalpags, or +morocco shoes?" + +"Pshaw!" cried the village elder. "Why, our poverty is such that we +never look beyond sheep-skin jackets and leather sandals. What do we +want with coloured cloth and morocco shoes?" + +"Nor must you, for the Estates of the Realm have forbidden the peasantry +to wear the clothes of the gentry." + +Now came the fifth question. + +"Which of you not only acted contrary to the decree of the Diet, that +the peasants should extirpate the sparrows, but even mocked the officers +charged to collect sparrows' heads?" + +The magistrate humbly approached the Patrol-officer. + +"Believe me, worshipful sir; by reason of the great drought and the bad +season, the sparrows have all departed from our district. Tell his +Highness that we have been unable to lay our hands upon a single one all +through the summer." + +"That's a lie!" cried Clement the Clerk fiercely. + +"I speak the truth," persisted the magistrate, seizing Clement by the +hand, and dexterously insinuating two silver marias into his clenched +fist. + +"Well, it is not impossible," said the Patrol-officer, somewhat +mollified. + +Last of all came the question-- + +"Has any among you seen foreign beasts of prey, or other strange +animals, straying about in these regions?" + +"Of a truth, sir, we have seen lots of them." + +"And what sort of beasts were they?" asked Clement, with joyful +curiosity. + +"Well, dog-headed Tartars!" + +"You fool, I don't mean that sort of beast. I want to know whether any +one, in strolling through these woods, has come upon a four-footed beast +of prey, a creature with a spotted skin? You know very well you have +left no hole or corner unexplored, for even now you are hunting after +the hidden treasures of Decebalus." + +The magistrate shook his head incredulously, glanced at the crowd, and +said, with a shrug of his shoulders-- + +"We have seen no such wondrous beast; but haply Sange Moarte has seen +it, for he in his mad moods roams incessantly through woods and +hollows." + +"And where then is this Sange Moarte? You must call him hither." + +"Alas! sir, he is difficult to catch; he seldom comes to the village. +But perhaps his mother is here." + +"Here she is! here she is!" cried several peasants at once, pushing +forward an old woman with sunken cheeks, whose head was wrapped round in +a white cloth. + +"What mad name is this you have given to your son?" cried the +Patrol-officer; "whoever heard of calling a man 'Dead blood'!" + +"'Twas not I, sir, who gave him this name," said the old Wallachian +woman with a broken voice. "The villagers call him so because he is +never seen to laugh or speak to any one, or answer when he is spoken to. +He did not even weep for his father when he died; nor has he ever +visited the girls in the spinning-rooms, but wanders about incessantly +in the woods." + +"All right, all right, old lady; but that has nothing to do with me." + +"I know it, sir, I know that it does not concern you; but I must tell +you that the pretty Floriza, the belle of the village, was in love with +my son. There was not a lovelier maiden in all Wallachia. Such black +eyes, such locks reaching down to her feet, such rosy cheeks, such a +slim waist were not to be found anywhere else. And then she was so +diligent, and she loved my son so dearly! In her chest she had sixteen +embroidered chemises which she herself had woven and spun, and round her +neck she wore a string of two hundred silver and twenty gold pieces. +Sange Moarte never so much as looked at the girl. Vainly did Floriza +make him posies, he would not put them in his hat; vainly did she give +him kerchiefs, he would not wear them in his breast. Whenever he passed +by, the girl would sing such beautiful songs as she sat by the hearth; +but Sange Moarte for all that did not linger at her threshold, and yet +she loved him so dearly. Often she said to him, when they met together +in the lane--'Thou dost never come to see me; perchance thou wouldst not +even look at me if I were dead?' Sange Moarte replied--'Then indeed I +would look at thee.'--'Then I will soon die,' said the maiden +sorrowfully. 'And then will I also visit thee,' said Sange Moarte, and +went his way. Does all this weary you, good sir? I shall soon have done. +Pretty Floriza lies dead. Her heart broke for grief. There she lies on +her bier; the funereal _armindenu_[35] stands in front of the house. +When Sange Moarte sees it he will know that Floriza is dead, and will +come forth from the woods to look upon his dead sweetheart, as he +promised her, for he always keeps his word. Then you can speak with +him." + + [Footnote 35: _Armindenu._ A green branch placed in + front of houses on the 1st of May and at funerals. + Compare Latin _Alimentale_.] + +"Very well, old lady," said Clement, who had suddenly become serious, +and was almost angry to find something very like poetry among rude +peasants, who had certainly never read Horace's _Ars Poetica_. "You must +watch for the lad's return, and let me know." + +"'Twere better you went yourself, sir," said the old woman, "for I +scarcely think he will answer a single question put to him by any one +else." + +"Be it so! Lead me thither!" cried the Patrol-officer; and the whole +assembly proceeded towards the mortuary, which stood at the extreme end +of the village. + +This end of Marisel is so far distant from the church, that night had +fallen before the crowd had reached it. + +The moon came from behind the mountains. Round about the house stood +pine trees, through the sombre foliage of which the evening star +shimmered faintly. In the distance sounded the melancholy notes of some +pastoral flute. In front of the little white house the hired mourner was +sobbing loudly. The wind agitated the crape-hung branches of the +_armindenu_. Inside the house lay the corpse of the beautiful young +maiden awaiting her truant lover. The moonbeams fell upon her pale +countenance. + + * * * * * + +The mob surrounded the mortuary, crept stealthily on tip-toe into the +courtyard, peeped through the window, and whispered-- + +"Look! There he is! there he is!" + +The Patrol-officer, the priest, the magistrate, and Sange Moarte's +mother entered the room. + +Right across the threshold lay the girl's father dead drunk; he got so +tipsy yesterday from sheer sorrow that he will need all to-day and all +to-morrow to sleep it off. In the middle of the room stood the pine-wood +coffin, bedaubed with glaring roses fresh from the brush of a rural +artist; within it lay the girl (she was only sixteen), her beautiful +forehead encircled by a funereal wreath. A wax taper had been placed in +one of her hands, in the other she held a small coin. At the head of the +coffin burned two handsome wax candles stuck into a jar containing +gingerbreads; at the foot of the coffin, in a gaudily-painted, +high-backed chair, staring blankly at the girl's face, sat Sange Moarte. + +The pious superstition of the priest and the magistrate would not let +them cross the threshold; but Clement stepped up to the lad, and +immediately recognized in him the man on the rock who would not tell him +the way. + +"Hi, young man! So you are he who has the bad habit of never replying to +people when they address you, eh?" + +The person thus addressed justified the question by not answering it. + +"Now hearken and answer my question. I am the Patrol-officer. D'ye +hear?" + +Sange Moarte remained speechless, with his eyes fixed all the time on +Floriza. He was as motionless as the corpse itself, and scarcely seemed +to breathe. His good old mother tenderly took him by the hand and called +him by his proper name. + +"Jova, my son! answer the gentleman. Look at me, I am your mother." + +"In the name of my master, the Prince, I command you to answer me!" +cried the Patrol-officer, raising his voice. + +The Wallach still remained silent. + +"I ask you if, in the course of your sylvan ramblings, you have seen any +sort of foreign wild beast, to wit a yellow, speckled monster, which the +learned call a panther?" + +Sange Moarte gave a start, as if suddenly aroused out of a deep sleep. +His glassy eyes flashed and sparkled as he looked at his interrogator, a +feverish scarlet flushed his cheeks, and he stammered tremulously-- + +"I have seen it, seen it, seen it." + +And with that he covered his eyes, so as not to look upon the dead body. + +"Where have you seen it?" asked the Patrol-officer. + +"Far, far away," whispered the Wallach; then he became dumb once more +and buried his forehead in his hands. + +"Name the place. Where is it?" + +The Wallach looked timidly around. A cold shudder ran through him, and +with fearful, rolling eyes he whispered to the Patrol-officer-- + +"In the Gradina Dracului."[36] + + [Footnote 36: _Gradina Dracului_. Garden of the Devil + (Roumanian).] + +The priest and the magistrate immediately crossed themselves thrice, and +the latter gazed devoutly on a mural St. Peter, as if to invoke his help +on this occasion. + +"You seem to me a plucky lad, to venture to approach the Devil's +Garden," said the Patrol-officer. "Will you guide me thither?" + +The Wallach nodded, with a joyful look. + +"In the name of St. Michael and all the Archangels I implore you, sir, +not to go," interrupted the priest. "Of all who have visited the Devil's +Garden, not one has ever been known to come back. A truly devout person +would turn his back upon it. It is only this man's sinfulness that has +led him thither." + +Clement scratched his head. + +"I don't go there for the pleasure of the thing," said he. "Not that I +fear the name of the place, but because I object to scaling mountains. +In my official capacity, however, I have no choice." + +"Then at least stick a consecrated willow-twig in your cap," urged the +anxious pastor, "or take with you a picture of St. Michael, that the +devil may not come near you." + +"Thank you, my brothers; but it would be much more to the point if you +provided me with a pair of sandals, for I cannot go clambering over the +mountains in these spurred boots. I regret too that your amulets are +thrown away upon me, for I am a Unitarian." + +The priest crossed himself once more, and said with a sigh-- + +"I fancied you were orthodox, because you were so zealous about the hags +and witches." + +"I only did that officially. Send my Turk hither." + +As he went out the priest murmured to himself-- + +"Birds of a feather! A nice pair of heretics!" + +"Comrade Zlfikar," cried Clement to the Turk, as he tied on his +sandals, "you can find the rest of your way by yourself, for I must take +a side spring into the mountains." + +"If you spring, I will spring too," replied the distrustful renegade. +"Whithersoever you go, thither will I go also." + +"My dear fellow, there is nothing to be pocketed on the road that I am +about to take, except perhaps the devil, for man has never set his foot +there." + +"What do I care! My orders are to go along with you till I return to the +point from whence I started." + +"So much the better, then; I shall have the pleasure of your company. +But pray help me to draw my sword, so that I may be able to defend +myself in case of need." + +"So you carry a sword which requires two men to draw it! Well, let's +look at it," and with that the two men planted their legs one against +the other, grasped the sword with both hands, and tugged away at it for +a long time, till at last it flew out of its sheath so suddenly that +Clement the Clerk nearly fell sprawling. + +Clement then called for a jar of honey, rubbed the rusty blade all over +with the viscid stuff, and stuck it back into its sheath. + +"And now let us be off, young man," said he to the Wallach, who hastily +took his cap and a small axe from the ground, and went out without once +looking behind him. + +His mother seized him by the hand-- + +"Wilt thou not first kiss thy dead sweetheart?" + +Sange Moarte did not even turn his head round, but drew his hand out of +his mother's and went with the two strange men towards the darkening +woods. + +All that night the adventurers were traversing a deep dell. Gigantic +perpendicular rocks rose up on each side of them, only above their heads +shimmered a narrow streak of starry sky. + +Towards morning they found themselves among the Carpathian Alps. + +It was a dazzling spectacle. In the distance diamond-peaked crystal +mountains covered with white snow-fields, striped here and there by +dark-green lines of pine forest. Close beside them is a basalt rock, +consisting of angular columns as large as towers, standing side by side +like the pipes of a gigantic organ, with their summits crowned by +wreaths of round trees. A white, semi-transparent cloud floats across +this rock, hiding all but its summit and its base. From time to time a +lightning-flash darts from this cloud, and the reverberated echoes of +the thunder-peals resound like long-drawn-out chords from this majestic +organ of Nature's own workmanship. + +Over yonder, a mountain chasm suddenly comes into view, where two rocky +fragments, whose rugged surfaces seem to exactly correspond, stand face +to face. Through this rocky chasm, many hundred feet below, rushes a +stray branch of the icy Szamos, disappearing among the thick oak woods +which cover its banks. + +In one place the rocks form a flight of steps, steps never fashioned for +the foot of man, for each of them is as high as a tower; in another +place the rocky boulders are piled one on the top of the other, in such +a way that if the undermost block were disturbed, the whole of the +enormous mass would fall into a differently-shaped group. + +Everything indicates that here the dominion of the world and of man +ends. Not a single human habitation is visible from the dizzy heights; +even vegetation is rare and scanty; on every side bald rocks and gaping +chasms, among which the mountain torrents toss and tumble; only the wild +goat is there to be seen leaping from crag to crag. + +"Which is the way now?" asked Clement of his guide, casting an anxious +glance at his surroundings, in which the possibility of hopelessly +losing oneself was more than probable. + +"Trust only to me," said Sange Moarte, and he guided them through the +uninhabited wilderness with the unerring precision of instinct. In +places where it seemed impossible to go a step further, he always found +a path. He recollected every root or shrub which could serve as a +support to clamberers down the mountain side; every fallen tree which +spanned the abyss, every narrow ledge which could only be passed by +bending forward over the precipice and holding fast behind to the +fissures of the rock, was familiar to him; in short he seemed quite at +home in this interminable labyrinth. + +"We are near," he cried suddenly, after clambering up a steep rocky wall +and surveying the horizon; then he held out his hands to his companions +and drew them up after him. + +A new spectacle then presented itself. + +The opposite slope of the rocky ridge which they had just ascended was +perfectly smooth and shiny, and encompassed the whole region in a +semi-circle, forming a sort of basin, at the very bottom of which--and +it was six hundred feet deep--lay a little mountain lake, the dark-green +waters of which perpetually boiled and bubbled, though not a breath of +air was stirring: perhaps it felt the ebb and flow of ocean. The +opposite side of the rocky basin was formed by a gigantic chain of +mountains, fringed only at its base by fir trees, and at the point where +the two mountain systems met, a small stream in a deep bed trickled into +the little mountain lake. The masses of ice which had fallen into the +valley formed a crystal vault over this stream. + +"Whither are we going?" asked Clement, aghast. + +"To the source of that brook," returned Sange Moarte. "It has dug its +way through the ice, and by following its course we shall come to the +place we seek." + +"But how are we to get there? This rocky slope is as smooth as a mirror; +if a man begins sliding down it there is no stopping till he plumps into +the lake." + +"You have only to take care. We must lie on our backs and glide down +sideways. Here and there you will find a tuft of Alpine roses to cling +on to. But you've nothing to fear if you slide down barefoot. Do as I +do." + +A hair-bristling pastime truly! + +Taking off their sandals they held on by their hands and feet to the +smooth, shelving, stony wall, at the foot of which lay the +darkly-gleaming, fathomless lake. + +They had already slided half-way down the incline, when from the +mountain opposite arose a muffled, mysterious roar. They felt the cliff +on which they lay quaking beneath them. + +"Ha! stay where you are," cried Sange Moarte, looking back at them. "An +avalanche from the mountain opposite is approaching." + +And at the very next moment they could see a white ball descending from +the immeasurably distant heights, plunging with mad haste down the +mountain slope, tearing away with it whole masses of rock and uprooted +pines, swelling every moment into a more tremendous bulk, and dashing +down the decline in leaps of two hundred feet at a time into the valley +below. + +"Heaven defend us!" cried the terrified Clement, clutching his guide +with one hand and holding on to the rock with the other. "It is coming +this way, and will overwhelm us all." + +"Keep still," cried Sange Moarte, seeing them inclined to clamber up +again and thus expose themselves to the danger of a fall. "The avalanche +will take the direction of that block of rock standing in its way, and +will there either stop or disperse." + +And indeed they could see that the snow-slip, now grown colossal, was +making for a projecting point of rock which was dwarf-like in +comparison. Every other sound was lost in the thunder of the avalanche. + +And now the huge snow-ball bounded upon the obstructive rock, and fell +prone across it with a terrific thud, which shook the whole mountain to +its very base. + +For a moment the whole region was enveloped in a cloud of steam-like +snow-spray, and after the final crash the thunder of the avalanche +ceased. But immediately afterwards it began again with a frightful +crackling; the weight of the snowy mass had uprooted the obstructing +rock, and whirling down with it in dizzy rotations, plunged +perpendicularly into the lake below. + +The agitated lake, lashed out of its basin on both sides, rose in an +enormous wave, three hundred feet high, up to the very spot where the +bold climbers were clinging to the naked rock, and after poising in the +air for a second, like a huge transparent green column, broke and fell +back into the lake, which very slowly subsided. + +"Now we will go on our way," said Sange Moarte. "The rock is moist now, +and the descent will be all the easier." + +After the lapse of half-an-hour, the wanderers found themselves at the +mouth of a stream. + +A wondrous corridor lay open before them. The brook sprang from a hot +spring, which, after racing down the deep valleys, buried itself beneath +icebergs and snowdrifts. But the hot water had bored a passage through +the ice, constantly melting the frozen mass around it with its warm +stream, so that only the thick outermost layer remained, which, +constantly renewed by the cold air without, and as constantly dissolved +by the hot stream within, grew into a sort of transparent crystal arcade +with huge dependent glittering stalactites above the stream. + +Through this channel Sange Moarte now led his companions. + +Clement could not but call to mind the fabulous fairy palace where +spellbound mortals only see the light of day through transparent waters. + +Wading thus in the bed of the stream, they reached a point where the +bright arcade began to grow dark. Its transparent roof grew thicker and +thicker, passing gradually into an ever deeper blue, till at last it +became quite black, and the murmuring of the stream was the wanderers' +only guide. As they advanced, with their hose tucked up to their knees, +into the ever-darkening darkness, they felt the water getting hotter and +hotter, till at last they heard a hissing sound and saw once more the +daylight streaming through the rocky chasm, through which the brook +rushed down into its subterraneous cave. + +Here, with the help of some dangling shrubs, they scaled the hillside to +avoid the onslaught of the boiling spring, and after a brief exertion +found themselves on the other side of the mountain, in a deep, well-like +valley. + +This is the _Gradina Dracului_. + +It is a perfectly round dell, shut in on every side by a wall of +perpendicular cliffs more than six hundred feet high. Whoever wishes to +look down from above, must approach the edge of the rock lying on his +stomach, and even then must have a good head not to be seized by +vertigo. At the bottom of this dell the flowers have an amaranthine +bloom. When the snow is falling thickly all around, and the ice is +sparkling everywhere else, here in the depths of the hardest winter may +then be seen those dark-green flowers with broad, indented petals, and +those little round-leaved trees the like of which are to be met with +nowhere else in this district. Just at this time too the leather-leaved +_Nymphaea_ opens its light-yellow calices here; the grass, both summer +and winter, is of the brightest green; and the wild laurel climbs high +up into the crevices of the rocks, and casts its red berries down into +the valley, when Nature all around is cold and dead. + +Throughout the winter this dell is clothed with the rarest flowers. +Therefore the Wallach calls it "the Devil's Garden," and fears to +approach it. + +But the whole wonder has quite a natural cause. + +In the depth of the dell a hot mineral spring bubbles up in a cave, +never coming to light, but soaking all the circumambient soil through +and through, and it is because these warm waters possess a flora of +their own that these unknown shrubs and flowers are for ever blooming in +the neighbourhood of the vivifying element. The whole thing is a +splendid open-air orangery in the midst of snowstorms and icebergs. + +Sange Moarte beckoned to his comrades to follow him. A feverish +impatience possessed him, and when he had advanced a few steps into the +cavern, he pointed with trembling hand at a dark recess, in which an +iron door was visible. + +"What is it?" cried Clement, clutching his sabre. "Does anybody dwell +here?" + +"Yes," rejoined Sange Moarte (his blood at that moment seemed to be on +fire, and the veins of his temples stood out like cords). "There, in +that water-basin, she is wont to bathe. There have I watched her, from +day to day, without ever daring to approach her," stammered he, in a +whisper that was scarcely audible, but full of the most passionate +ardour. + +"Who?" asked the Patrol-officer, much amazed. + +"Oh! the fairy," stammered the Wallach, with trembling lips, and he +buried his glowing head in his hands. + +"What's all this about?" said Clement, turning to Zlfikar. "'Tis not a +fairy that I'm after but a panther!" + +"Pst! a key is turning in the lock," cried Zlfikar. "Away back into the +dark cave!" + +The two men had to drag Sange Moarte away from the iron gate, which a +moment afterwards opened noiselessly, and a girlish form stepped forth +leading a panther by a golden chain. + +Sange Moarte was right in calling her a fairy. + +Before them stood a dazzlingly beautiful woman in oriental _dshabill_. +Her locks were enveloped in a red fez, the long gold tassels of which +fell across her white turban over her pale face; her ivory-smooth +shoulders gleamed forth from the sleeves of her short, +ermine-embroidered kaftan; her eyes sparkled in the dark; every movement +of her lithe body was serpentine, fascinating, maddening. + +The three men held their breath. The girl passed by without observing +them. + +"Ah, that is she," whispered Zlfikar in amazement, when she had gone. + +"Who? Do you know her?" asked Clement. + +"It is Azrael, Corsar Beg's former favourite." + +"What a place for her to be in!" + +"Pst! she'll hear us." + +Meanwhile the girl had reached the basin where the subterraneous waters +poured their mingled flood, sat down on a stone bench, and commenced to +unwind her turban. Her jasper-black hair fell down over her shoulders. + +Sange Moarte's hot panting resounded through the darkness. + +The panther lay quietly at his mistress's feet, his shrewd head resting +on his front paws. + +Azrael now removed her bright Persian shawl from her slim waist, and +next prepared to slip off her light kaftan, taking a couple of steps +towards a projecting rocky buttress which hid her from the eyes of the +watchers. + +Sange Moarte was about to rush after her. It was all the two men could +do to hold him back. + +"Are you mad?" growled Zlfikar in his ear. "Would you betray us with +your infernal curiosity?" + +"The poor devil is in love with the girl!" whispered Clement. + +At that moment there came the sound of a splash, as of some one leaping +into the water and playing with its waves. + +Sange Moarte frantically tore himself loose from his companions' arms, +and with a furious yell rushed towards the basin. + +At this yell Azrael, in all the maddening witchery of her charms, sprang +out of her watery mirror, looked at the presumptuous wretch with +flashing eyes, and cried savagely-- + +"Oglan! Seize him!" + +The panther had hitherto remained motionless; but the moment his +mistress called him to battle, he sprang up with a roar, seized the +young Wallach, and threw him with a single jerk to the ground. + +Sange Moarte did not think of defending himself against the savage +beast, but stretched out his hands imploringly towards the odalisk; +drank in her loveliness with thirsty looks; writhed closer to her, and, +weeping and groaning, fell down at her feet, while Azrael stared wildly +at him, threw her mantle hastily around her, and watched her darling +panther tear to pieces the youth who had never loved any one in his life +in order that he might love her to the death. + +"I'll go and help him!" cried Clement, mad with horror, and drawing his +sword. + +"Softly! Don't be a fool! Besides, we have something better to do. The +iron gate remains open; let us creep in while the lady is otherwise +engaged, and find out what there is here; that will interest our masters +very much, especially mine." + +With that the two men crept through the iron door, groped their way +along the narrow passage which seemed to have been cut out of the naked +rock, and discovered at the end of it, by the light of a lamp hanging +from the roof, several small doors to the right and left. They opened +one door after the other, but only found empty rooms with no further +outlets. At length a glimpse of the outer world reached them through one +of the windows. They hastened forward in that direction, and coming upon +a second iron door passed through it, and found themselves in a large +courtyard surrounded by high walls, one of which they scaled, and beheld +from the top of it the valley of the cold Szamos stretching far and wide +before their eyes. Soon after they discovered a footpath which led them +from the wall to the woodlands below, and off they set running, and +never drew breath till they had safely reached the bottom. It was only +then that the two men ventured to stop and look each other in the face. +Clement fancied he still heard the wildly musical voice of the fair +demoniac, the roaring of the panther, and the death-shrieks of the young +Wallach. + +"We may as well go on now," remarked Zlfikar, "for to return the way we +came without a guide is impossible, and we are bound to come out +somewhere." + +And, indeed, they soon came upon two wood-cutters, who were fastening +their raft to the river's bank. + +"What is that castle yonder?" asked Clement. + +The men stared at him. + +"Where? What castle?" + +Clement looked behind to show it to them, and behold! nowhere was +anything to be seen with the remotest resemblance to a castle, nothing +but rocks, each the counterpart of the other. The Wallachs laughed +aloud. + +"It were better not to mention it to them," said Zlfikar. "They look +as if they do not know what is going on under their very noses. But +we'll mark the place. Nothing but rocks are visible from the outside, +the brushwood conceals the very opening through which we got into the +open air." + +So the wanderers inquired their way; returned to Marisel, where they +naturally did not stop to be questioned about Sange Moarte, but mounted +their steeds and rode off. + +Zlfikar wanted Clement to go on with him to Banfi-Hunyad. The +Patrol-officer, however, declined to trespass on Denis Banfi's domains, +so the Turk went on alone to levy the new tax, though Clement prophesied +that he would receive more kicks than halfpence. + + * * * * * + +Clement duly informed Ladislaus Csaky of what he had seen, and received +one hundred ducats for his discovery, to say nothing of the green +top-boots. + +Zlfikar fared much more strangely. + +On arriving at Grosswardein, he gave the tribute-money to Ali Pasha, +informing him at the same time of all that he had found out about +Azrael. + +This girl, when only thirteen years old, had been carried off from Ali +Pasha's harem by Corsar Beg. Ali, her original possessor, had promised a +reward of two hundred ducats to whomsoever should discover the +whereabouts of his favourite. + +Zlfikar on quitting the Pasha had in his hand a purse of two hundred +ducats. This came to the ears of the Aga, Zlfikar's superior officer, +who straightway picked a quarrel with the renegade, and condemned him to +one hundred strokes of the bastinado, unless he preferred redeeming each +stroke with a ducat. + +"I won't do that," returned Zlfikar, "but I'll hand over to you the +gift which Denis Banfi sent to Ali Pasha when I told him he was to pay +the new tax. Give it to the Pasha, and I'll wager he'll so reward you +that you'll remember it all your life." + +The Aga greedily caught at the offer, took charge of the +carefully-sealed casket which Zlfikar himself ought to have handed to +the Pasha, and presented it to his Excellency with the following +respectful salutation-- + +"Behold, most gracious Pasha, I bring you that princely gift which Lord +Denis Banfi has sent you in lieu of taxes." + +Ali Pasha seized the casket, cut through the silken cords, broke the +seal, and took off the cover, when lo! a horrible, shrivelled pig's +tail fell out of it on to his kaftan--the direst, most abominable +outrage which can befall a Mussulman! + +Ali Pasha in his fury sprang almost up to the ceiling, and throwing his +turban to the ground, immediately ordered that the Aga, who stood rooted +to the spot with horror, should be impaled outside the camp. + +But Zlfikar went gaily on his way with the two hundred ducats in his +pocket. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. + + +There was a great commotion at Bonczhida Castle. The lord of the manor, +Denis Banfi, was expected home from Ebesfalva. The castle gates (on the +midmost panel of which blazed a huge family coat-of-arms between the +claws of two golden lions rampant) were overshadowed by green branches +and bravely-coloured banners; in the street, the school-children, in +gala costume, were drawn up in a long line headed by their teachers; +further back, with bright Sunday faces, stood the vassals; and, +marshalled in front of the hillock which marked the bounds, the mounted +gentry of the County of Klausenburg, some eight hundred horsemen or so, +all of them stalwart, sturdy forms, armed with morning stars and good +broad-swords, had come out to meet their leader, the Marshal of the +Nobility. + +On the bastions are to be seen Banfi's own soldiers, consisting of about +six hundred mail-clad heroes, with long Turkish muskets and Scythian +helmets. On the walls facing the Szamos six mortars are placed. A few +yards further off a coal fire is burning, at which the cannoneers are +heating the ends of their long iron staves so as to use them as +linstocks. + +At every gate, at every buttressed window, stand a couple of pages in +crimson dolmans and tightly-fitting, cornflower-blue hose, richly +garnished with silver-embroidered lace. + +At the window of the highest donjon sits the castellan, ready to +proclaim the arrival of his liege lord by the blast of a horn. Over his +head the wind is wrestling with a gigantic purple banner, the huge +dependent gold tassels of which it can only raise with difficulty. + +Out of all the windows, inquisitive domestics and expectant knights and +dames peep forth, or rather, out of all the windows but three, which +are altogether bare of festal groups, for there nothing is to be seen +but fragrant jasmines and quivering mimosas in snow-white porcelain +vases, behind which one can dimly distinguish a pale and delicate form +leaning dreamily on the embroidered window-cushions. This is Denis +Banfi's wife. + +It might have been ten o'clock in the morning when the castellan, +perceiving clouds of dust on the highway, announced the approach of his +Excellency with a blast of his horn, whereupon the roar of the mortars +scared every one into his proper place; the priests and teachers +reviewed their pupils, the officers marshalled their troops, and the +trumpeters on the ramparts played the latest marches. + +Shortly afterwards the Lord-Lieutenant arrived, escorted by the banderia +of half-a-dozen counties. Before and behind him trotted squadrons of +horsemen, whose arms and caparisons gleamed with all the colours of the +rainbow. There were to be seen horses of every race and every +hue--Arabian stallions, Transylvanian full-bloods, little Wallachian +ponies, slim English racers, and light-footed Barbary steeds. There were +horses with flesh-coloured manes, jewelled bits, variegated reins, and +embroidered schabracks. There were all the weapons with which the art of +war was then familiar--the slender Damascus blade, the toothed +morning-star, the curved _csakany_,[37] the serpentine crease, and those +long, gorgeously-fashioned fire-arms which could seldom be discharged +more than once; here and there, too, was visible a specimen of those +three-edged, six feet long Turkish scimitars, which were just then +coming into vogue. + + [Footnote 37: _Csakany._ An ancient weapon, half hook, + half battle-axe, of Tartar origin.] + +Each squadron brought its banner, on which the arms of the respective +counties were gaily embroidered, and sturdy standard-bearers bore them +aloft on their saddle-bows. In front of the martial bands rode their +captain, George Veer, a muscular man of about forty, with a +grey-speckled beard, stiffly waxed moustaches, and sun-burnt face. A +stately heron's plume, fastened by an opal agraffe, waved from his +marten-embroidered kalpag; his gorgeous bearskin was held together in +front by a gold chain as broad as a man's hand, set with gems. +Chrysolites as large as filberts gleamed, instead of eyes, in the bear's +head looking over his shoulder; his body was encased in a coat of silver +mail, sewn with gold stars, through which his dark-blue dolman was +visible. His crooked scimitar with its golden hilt well became the hand +which held it, and from his saddle-bows peeped forth the menacing +muzzles of a pair of pistols, the mechanism of which was about as simple +as the mechanism of a modern steam-engine. + +The Lord-Lieutenant himself sat in an open carriage, drawn by five black +horses, with rose-coloured, gilded harness; both panels of the carriage +door bore the Banfi crest, gorgeously painted on a gold ground; behind +stood two hussars with silver-embroidered mantles and white heron +plumes. + +With haughty dignity Denis Banfi sits back on the velvet cushions of his +coach; all the pomp and splendour which surrounds him suits him well. +His glossy locks leave bare his high forehead, which, together with his +fine, frank eyes, bespeaks infinite good-nature, while the bold curve of +the bushy eyebrows and the peculiar cut of the thin lips indicate a +violent temper. The whole face seems to be constantly under the +influence of these hostile emotions. At one moment it is mild, smiling, +rosy; at another savage, grim, and suffused by a dark purple flush. The +traces of noble enthusiasm and of unbridled fury are impressed upon his +face side by side just as they are in his heart. + +The martial squadrons present arms; the school-children chant hymns; the +vassals wave their hats; the music resounds from the battlements; the +clergymen deliver addresses; and all the guests flutter their kerchiefs +and their kalpags at him from the windows, and Banfi receives all these +demonstrations of respect with his usual majestic dignity and +condescension, with the air of a man who feels that all this sort of +thing belongs to him of right. Meanwhile his eyes glance up at those +three windows concealed behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering +mimosas, and his face grows graver and sadder when he perceives no one +behind them. + +From the window of another room there looks down a very tall old man in +a long clerical surtout with small buttons. Since losing his teeth his +chin has moved closer to his nose, which makes his nose look a long way +from his eyes. He seems to be taking no part whatever in the general +rejoicings. By his side leans a lady in mourning, wearing a black velvet +_haube_; rage and contempt are unmistakably visible in her countenance. +Near these two stands Master Stephen Nalaczi with folded arms, +surveying the whole procession with a droll, sarcastic smile. + +"Just look, your Reverence," says the lady in widow's weeds to the +grey-headed clergyman. "Did ever prince lord it with the pomp and +splendour of this simple Baron? I have been at coronations, +installations, inaugurations, triumphal ovations, but never, never have +I seen anything like the homage paid to this private man. If they +rendered it to a prince it might pass, but who, forsooth, is this Denis +Banfi? Why, a simple nobleman--just such a one as we are, except that he +is full of arrogance and pretence. All this princely splendour does not +belong to him _de jure_. Oh! well do I know the meaning of the word +_jus_; for I have all my life been before the courts against greater +lords than he." + +"How my reverend colleagues press forward to kiss his hand," murmured +Martin Kuncz (for that was the clergyman's name). "Ei! ei! Look now, at +my learned colleague Gabriel Csekalusi, how radiantly he hastens forward +to assist his Excellency out of his carriage!--and he is right, for +Denis Banfi is the visible providence of the Calvinists. But for poor, +vagabond Unitarian ministers like me, the place behind the door is good +enough." + +"But just look! just look! how the worthy _armalists_[38] raise him on +high and carry him on their shoulders to the door. 'Tis well they do not +set him on a litter like a sovereign prince--as if, forsooth, feeding +them at his table made him their lord and master!" + + [Footnote 38: _Armalists._ Noblemen who could show + _literae armales_ in support of their nobility.] + +"Nay, but, Madame Saint Pauli, pray let the good people do him homage if +they like," interrupted Nalaczi with a sneer. "Wait a bit. The greeting +I have in reserve for him will add salt to the soup! It will bring my +lord to his senses, I warrant you!" + +Meanwhile Banfi is mounting the steps, and the crowd, pouring after him, +forces its way in at the same time, and carries the Baron on its +shoulders right up to the das at the end of the room. The clergymen +squeeze their way through the surging mob into their proper places, not +without being mercilessly mauled on the way; while George Veer, with +respect-inspiring elbows, carves a road for himself through the mob up +to the very seat of the Lord-Lieutenant. The room is already crammed +full with as many of the gentry as it will hold, the remainder block +the corridors. The vassals remain, perforce, in the courtyard, and hear +nothing of what is going on but the hubbub which reaches them through +the windows, and seems to delight them amazingly. + +"My noble friends," said Banfi, when there was at last something like +silence, and his eye had taken in every one present, "it was not without +good cause that I invited you to come to my house _armed_. You know +right well from the past history of our poor fatherland, how much our +nation has suffered because our Princes, either discontented with what +they already had, or unable to guard it, have perpetually called in +foreign troops. The historians have only recorded what has redounded to +the glory of our Princes--victories, battles, conquests; but they have +forgotten to mention that in the year 1617, in consequence of the +horrors of war, not a single child was born in the whole of +Transylvania, for famine and flight killed them all in their mothers' +wombs. But we know it, for we have suffered with and for the people. +Now, thank heaven! we are masters in our own homes. By the Peace of +Saint Gothard, the Turkish Sultan and the German Emperor have covenanted +not to march their troops through Transylvania, and by thus holding each +other in check, have vouchsafed us a little breathing-space, inasmuch as +we are no longer bound to take up arms for either of them, but can set +about healing our country's ancient wounds. A golden age is dawning upon +us. The whole world is fighting and bleeding, we alone possess peace; in +our land alone is the Magyar independent and his own master. True, ours +is not a very large realm, but at any rate 'tis our own. We may be a +very little people, but we recognize no greater anywhere. Now there are +persons who would destroy this golden age. There are persons who do not +care what an imprudently begun war may cost the country, provided their +ambition, provided their greed is gratified thereby; and if he whom they +attack chances to win, _they_ do not perish with their country, but +simply turn their coats, go over to the victors, and share the spoil +with them." + +"That is a slander!" cried some one from the background. Banfi at once +recognized Nalaczi's voice. + +The murmuring crowd turned towards the corner whence the interruption +had proceeded. + +"Let him alone, my friends," cried Banfi; "some satellite of Master +Michael Teleki's, I suppose. Let him, too, have the benefit of freedom +of speech! I, however, who am well acquainted with the upright +sentiments of the Estates of the Realm, can tell you positively, that +this thoughtless step can never be taken in a constitutional way, and if +they attempt by secret intrigues or sudden violence to bring about what +cannot be done by fair means, then too they will find me at my post. I +wish to defend the realm _and_ the Prince, but if it must be so, I will +defend the realm against the Prince himself. Now listen to what the +caballers have devised, so as to ensnare us once more in those meshes +from which we have hardly withdrawn our heads. Despite the peace, Turks +at one time, Tartars at another, cross our frontier, blackmail the +people, burn the towns, in short, force their friendship upon us in +every imaginable way. Eight days ago they ravaged Segesvar, and before +that they made incursions into the Csika district. That, however, is not +_my_ business. It concerns the Governors of the Saxon land and the +Captains of the Szeklers. It is true that the mouth of his Excellency, +Ali Pasha, has long been watering for my domains, only he has not quite +made up his mind how to pick a quarrel with me. A few days ago, however, +his roving bands captured the Prince's Patrol-officer, and proclaimed +through his mouth to the whole district a fresh tax of a farthing per +head. The poor peasantry rejoiced at getting off so cheaply, and +hastened to pay the tax without first asking me whether it was lawfully +levied. The artful Turk gained a double end thereby: in the first place, +he got the people to recognize the tax, and in the second place, he +found out exactly how many taxable persons resided in the district, and +immediately afterwards levied upon them the fearful blackmail of two +Hungarian florins per head!" + +The multitude howled with rage. + +"I immediately forbade all further payments. This tax does not indeed +fall upon our shoulders, for we are nobles; but it is just because we +are the peasants' masters that we are bound to save them from being +fleeced, and defend them at all hazards. The only answer I sent to his +Turkish Excellency was a pig's tail, and if he comes to levy the tax in +person, I swear by the living God, I'll give him a buffet he won't +forget as long as he lives." + +"We will cut him to pieces!" roared the mob, striking their scabbards, +and waving their morning-stars in the air. + +"And now, my faithful friends, return to your tents. My seneschals will +provide for your entertainment. If we must fight, I'll tell you when." + +The excited nobility then withdrew with rattling weapons and boisterous +approbation; only a few petitioners remained behind. + +The Klausenburg professors invited their patron to the public +examinations. Banfi promised to come, and distribute rewards to the best +scholars. + +As they retired Banfi beckoned to the remaining suppliants to approach +one by one. The first he turned to was Master Martin Kuncz, the Bishop +of the Klausenburg Unitarians. + +"How can I serve your Reverence?" + +"I have a complaint to make, gracious sir," returned Kuncz, with a bow +and a scrape. "The Klausenburg town-council has forcibly removed the +market booths belonging to the Unitarian Church. I beg you to help us to +regain possession." + +"I am very sorry I cannot help your Reverence," returned Banfi, +whistling through his teeth and buttoning up his coat. "That is a +constitutional affair, and concerns the Prince. The land indeed is mine, +but the cause belongs to his Highness's Courts." + +"The Prince gave me exactly the same answer, only reversed--'The cause +indeed belongs to my Courts, but the land is Banfi's, go to him.'" + +Banfi laughed good-humouredly, but Kuncz did not seem to regard the +matter as particularly entertaining. + +"Then, although my right is as clear as noon-day, I can turn nowhither?" + +Banfi shrugged his shoulders and stroked his beard. + +"Because your Reverence has right on your side, it by no means follows +that you will get justice." + +"Then his case is exactly the same as mine," interrupted some one, and +Banfi, looking round, beheld Dame Saint Pauli making towards him. + +The magnate pretended he did not see the widow, and nonchalantly +adjusted the gold and diamond chain of his mente; but the widow thrust +herself right under his nose, and thus began-- + +"Vainly do you condescend to ignore me, my lord. I am here though +uninvited." + +Banfi looked at her without saying a word, half amused and half +annoyed. + +"Or perhaps your lordship has forgotten my name?" continued the lady +sharply, smiting her breast and exclaiming--"I am the noble, +high-born----" + +"And worshipful," added Banfi, laughing. + +"Dowager Lady George Saint Pauli," continued the lady imperturbably, +"every scion of whose family is as noble and illustrious as the Prince +himself. I too have never forgotten what name I bear, but have proudly +confessed it before princes and generals--yea, even before greater men +than your Excellency." + +"Well, well, your ladyship. All that I know by heart, for I have heard +it from your own lips twenty times before. Come, tell me quickly what +you want." + +"Quickly, forsooth! Perchance your Excellency imagines that it is +possible to tell in a few words why the suit between us has lasted four +years already, and why the suit between the town of Klausenburg and my +family has been pending for three-and-sixty years?" + +"To cut matters short, I will tell you the whole story myself," +interrupted Banfi; "your ladyship can make your comment afterwards. Your +ladyship possesses a ruinous den in the midst of the Klausenburg +market-place----" + +"I beg your pardon--a manor-house just as good as your lordship's own +castle." + +"This shanty has for a long time disfigured the market-place. In vain +has the town-council negotiated with and sued your family in order to +have the house pulled down." + +"And we have not surrendered it. Quite right. A genuine nobleman never +sells property which he has purchased with his blood. It belongs to me, +and within my four walls neither Prince nor Diet has the right to +command. No, nor you either, my Lord-General." + +"My good lady, I never asked you to give me this venerable ruin for +nothing. I offered you ten thousand florins for it. For that sum I could +have bought up the whole gipsy quarter, though there is no such +dilapidated house there as yours." + +"Keep your money, sir. I'll not give up my house. My +seven-and-seventieth ancestor bought it two centuries ago, and therefore +I'll not barter it away. In it I was born; in it died my father and my +mother. If it offends your Excellency's eye to look down upon my +beggarly house from your splendid mansion, pray look the other way; but +at least do not grudge me the poor pleasure of spending the remainder of +my days in the room where my poor husband breathed his last sigh; and +let me tell you, sir, that I wouldn't take a palace in exchange for it." + +The widow's sobs at the recollection of her deceased husband here +enabled Banfi to put a word in, and he replied with passionate +vehemence-- + +"What I have said shall be done. The masons are already on their way to +pull down the house. The ten thousand florins you can have on +application to the town-council." + +"I don't want them. Throw them to your dogs," cried the woman furiously. +"Am I a peasant that you turn me thus out of my property? Whoever dares +to step across my threshold shall be driven out with a broomstick like a +cur. I have appealed to the Prince and to the Estates, and there you +have the sealed mandate in which the Diet forbids all and sundry to +invade my property. I'll nail it upon the gate,--'tis engrossed in a +good, legible hand,--and then I'll see who dares to break into my +house." + +"And I tell you that to-morrow your house will be razed to the ground, +even if it be surrounded by armalists, and then the Diet may build you a +new one if it is so disposed." + +And with that Banfi turned away in high dudgeon, and almost ran into +Nalaczi. + +The two men greeted each other with constrained politeness; and while +Dame Saint Pauli went off cursing, Nalaczi, after drawing a long breath, +began in the sweetest of tones-- + +"His Highness the Prince desires to bring a very unpleasant matter to +the notice of your Excellency." + +"I am all attention." + +"The Turk has thrice this year extorted gifts from us under various +pretexts." + +"You ought not to give them to him." + +"If we don't he will force upon us as Prince the refugee Nicholas +Zolyomi, now under the protection of the Porte." + +"Let him come! We will kick him out again." + +"Bravely spoken! But the Prince, weary of so much discord, and somewhat +fearful besides, has resolved to amnesty Zolyomi and allow him to +return." + +"In God's name let him do so then!" + +"Right, quite right! But your lordship knows very well that Zolyomi's +estates are now in your lordship's possession; the Prince therefore +finds himself compelled to request your lordship to surrender these +estates to the returning Zolyomi, if it would not greatly inconvenience +your lordship." + +Nalaczi had been a little too curt in the delivery of his message, +although he had done his best to sugar it with respectful epithets. + +"What!" cried Banfi, stepping back, "do you really suppose that I will +give up these estates? The Diet gave them to me with the onerous +condition of equipping at my own cost twelve regiments for the defence +of the country. That onerous condition I have faithfully fulfilled, and +now you fancy that I shall surrender the estates merely because there is +to be one fool the more in the land? Preposterous!" + +"But if the Prince wishes it!" + +"I'll not give them up whoever wishes it." + +"And that is the answer I'm to take back?" + +"You'll please take back these two words," said Banfi, emphasizing each +syllable--"I won't!" + +"Your most obedient servant," said Nalaczi, and with an ironical +obeisance he turned upon his heel. + +"Servus," replied Banfi contemptuously, as if he were throwing a bone to +a dog; and then he looked out into the corridor, and seeing some of his +vassals waiting there, hat in hand, roughly asked them what they wanted. + +When the good people saw that their liege lord was in a villainous +humour, they held back, but the steward pushed them in. + +"We ought to have brought the tithes," began the oldest peasant, with a +whining voice and downcast eyes, "but it was impossible." + +"Why?" + +"Because we have nothing, my lord. There has been no rain; the crops are +a failure; we have not even seed enough to sow our fields. In the +village the people are living on chance roots and fungus, and when these +are all gone, God only knows what will become of us." + +"Look now," cried Banfi, "another visitation of God, and yet we must +needs have a war to boot! Steward, open at once the demesne granaries, +and distribute seed to the vassals, that they may sow their fields. See +too that the poor people have enough corn to feed them through the +winter." + +The poor peasants would have kissed Banfi's hands, but he would not +suffer it. A tear stood in his eye. + +"For what am I your lord if not to lighten your burdens when you are in +need? My stewards will carry out my orders. If my own storehouses fall +short, you shall have corn for ready money from Moldavia." + +And with that he retired into the adjoining chamber. + + * * * * * + +Banfi's wife with a beating heart heard his familiar footsteps drawing +nearer. + +There she sits behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering mimosas, +herself as pale as the jasmine flowers and as tremulous as the mimosas. + +Around her is nothing but pomp and splendour. On the walls hang cut +Venetian mirrors in gold frames, portraits of kings and princes, the +handsomest among which is John Kemeny's, painted while he still held +with the Turk and wore close-cropped hair and a long beard in the +Turkish fashion, so much affected by the magnates of those days. + +On one side of the room is a wardrobe with countless drawers, a +masterpiece of art, inlaid with tortoise-shell, lapis lazuli, and +mother-of-pearl. In the centre of the room stands a variegated table +surmounted by silver candelabra of exquisite workmanship. Within glass +almeries the family treasures are piled up in gorgeous heaps: pocals +encrusted with gems; gold-enamelled stags, whose heads can be screwed +off and on; large silver filigree flower-baskets, each scarcely heavier +than a crown-piece, filled with posies of precious stones of every hue, +artistically disposed in dazzling groups, with here and there a +butterfly poising above them with delicate wings of transparent gold. + +Heavy red silk curtains fall down from the lofty windows to the floor, +and the window-sills are covered with the most gorgeous of the flowers +then in vogue, among which the shining, velvety, amaranthine +cock's-comb, the liriodendron with its dependent, tulip-like calices, +and the mesembryanthemum, with its leaves like dewy pearls, are the most +conspicuous. + +Of all these flowers only the trembling mimosa and the pale jasmine +harmonized with the lady of the house, whose face contrasted so sadly +with the gorgeous abode. The tiny, delicate figure seemed almost lost in +the lofty arched room. She could not even have moved one of the massive +morocco arm-chairs, nor have raised one of the huge heavy candlesticks, +nor have pulled aside one of the heavy atlas curtains. Everything around +her seemed to remind her of her feebleness. Every sound made her +nervous, and when the well-known footsteps reached her threshold, all +the blood rushed to her face. She was about to leap up when the door +opened, and immediately she was as pale again as ever, and incapable of +rising from her seat. + +Banfi hastened, with expansive joy, towards his trembling wife, who +could not for the moment find words to welcome him, seized both her +delicate hands, and looked kindly into her dreamy eyes. + +"So pretty and yet so sad!" + +The lady tried to smile. + +"And how sad that smile is too," remarked Banfi, gently embracing the +sylph-like lady. + +Lady Banfi laid her head on her husband's bosom, threw her arms round +his neck, drew down his face to hers, and kissed it. + +"That kiss too, how sad it is!" + +She turned away to conceal her tears. + +"What is it?" asked Banfi, stroking his wife's forehead. "What is the +matter? Why are you so pale? What do you want?" + +"What do I want?" returned Lady Banfi, turning her streaming eyes up to +her husband and sighing deeply. Then she dried her eyes, placed her arm +in his, and as if to give another turn to the conversation, led him to +her flowers. + +"Look at that passion-flower, how withered it is, and yet it is planted +in a porcelain vase, and I water it every day with distilled water. But +once I forgot to draw up the blinds, and now look how the poor thing has +faded. It wants nothing--but sunshine." + +"It seems," said Banfi, in a low voice, "as if we were to address each +other in the language of flowers." + +"What do I want?" repeated Lady Banfi, and leaning on her husband's +neck, she burst forth sobbing. "I want my sunshine--your love." + +Banfi at that moment looked very uncomfortable. He sat down on his +wife's chair, took her gently upon his knee, and asked her in a kind +tone, but not without a touch of temper too-- + +"Am I less able to show you my love now than heretofore?" + +"Oh, no!--not less! But I see you so seldom. You have been away these +six weeks, and you would not let me come to you." + +"What, my lady! Have you suddenly become ambitious? Would you shine at +the court of the Prince? Believe me, your court is much more splendid +than his, and not nearly so dangerous." + +"Oh, you know right well that I neither seek splendour nor fear danger. +When our only shelter was a rude simple hut, nay, sometimes only a tent, +half buried in the snow, then you made me lay my head upon your breast, +covered me with your mantle, and I was so happy, oh, so happy. +Oftentimes the din of battle, the thunder of the cannon, scared sleep +from our eyes, and yet I was so happy. You mounted your horse, I sank +down in prayer; and when you came back blood- and dust-stained, but +unhurt, how happy I was then!" + +"Heaven grant that you may always be so. But there is a happiness which +stands higher than domestic happiness; there are matters where the mere +sight of you would be to me a hindrance and an obstacle." + +"Oh, I know what they are--sweet adventures, lovely women, eh?" returned +Lady Banfi, with an arch voice but perhaps a bleeding heart. + +"You are mistaken," cried Banfi, springing hastily from his chair. "I +was alluding to the commonweal," and he began to pace angrily up and +down the room. + +When a husband takes umbrage at such jests, it is a sure sign that he +feels himself hit. + +At last Banfi unknitted his bushy brows and stood stock still before his +trembling wife, who, ever since her husband entered the room, had been +the prey of the most conflicting emotions; joy and grief, fear and rage, +love and jealousy, still struggled for the mastery in her agitated +breast. + +"Margaret," he began, in an unsteady voice, "Margaret, you are jealous, +and jealousy is the first step towards hatred." + +"Then hate me rather than forget me!" cried the lady with a sudden +outburst, which she instantly regretted. + +"But what do you want me to do? Have you a single reason for suspecting +me? Perhaps you want me to render you an exact account of how many miles +I've travelled, how many people I've spoken to, like that blockhead Gida +Bertai, for instance, who takes a diary with him every time he leaves +the house, and reports to his better-half every half-hour? To hear you +speak, one would fancy that I keep you under lock and key, like Abraham +Thoroczkai keeps his wife, who, whenever he goes from home, puts a +padlock on his wife's chamber, and on his return exacts an oath from +all his neighbours that no one has spoken to her in the meantime." + +Lady Banfi laughed, but it was a laugh which ended in a sigh. + +"You evade the question with a jest. I certainly do not accuse you. I do +not watch you, and if you were to deceive me I should be none the wiser. +But look! there is that in a woman's heart (a sort of sixth sense) which +smarts she knows not why, and whereby she can tell instinctively whether +her beloved's love is on the wax or wane. I know not, nor wish to know, +whence you come and whither you go; but this I do know--you stay away a +long time, and do not make much haste in coming back. Banfi, I suffer--I +suffer more than you can think." + +"Madame!" cried Banfi, turning upon his wife with a flushed face, "in +this country divorce suits do not last very long!" + +Lady Banfi fell back into her chair, pressed her hands to her heart, and +gasped for breath. She uttered one sharp, plaintive cry, but no other +sound came from her parted lips. It was as though some one had suddenly +severed the strings of a harp with a sword. + +Half fainting, the wife looked up at her husband, as if to make sure +whether after all it was not a mere jest, though certainly a very +ghastly one. + +"You are unhappy," continued Banfi, "and I cannot help you. You are so +romantic, and I'm not given that way at all. Perhaps my heart wounds +yours, and I'm sorry for it; but your heart certainly wounds mine, and I +won't stand it. I recognize no tyrant over me, not even in love, and +I'll not endure persecution--no, not even the persecution of a woman's +tears. Let us rend our hearts asunder. Better do it now while they will +still bleed from the rupture than wait till they drop away of their own +accord. Let us rather part while we still love one another, than wait +till we have learned to hate." + +During the whole of this cruel speech the lady panted convulsively for +breath, as if a heavy nightmare were pressing upon her bosom and +depriving her of speech, till at last her emotion found an escape, and +she uttered a piercing scream. + +"Banfi! you are killing me!" + +Banfi himself seemed aghast at this cry, and turning round in the very +act of quitting the room, cast a glance at his wife. + +He did not perceive that at that moment the door opened and some one +entered; he only saw that his wife's agonized countenance was suddenly +distorted by an unspeakably painful smile. A forced smile on those +convulsed features was something too terrible. Banfi thought at first +that his wife had gone mad. + +The next instant Dame Banfi rose impetuously from her chair, and +exclaiming, "Anna! my darling Anna!" rushed towards the door. + +It was then that Banfi turned round, and saw before him Anna Bornemissa, +the consort of Michael Apafi. That lady's sharp eyes instantly detected +the agitation of the consorts, though they both did their best to hide +it, and not without success. But she made as though she saw nothing, and +drawing Margaret to her breast, kindly held out her hand to Banfi. + +"I heard your voices outside," said she, "so I came in without waiting +to be announced." + +"Ah, yes ... we were ... laughing," said Dame Banfi, covertly wiping her +eyes with the corner of her pocket-handkerchief. + +"And to what circumstances do we owe this extraordinary piece of good +fortune?" asked Banfi, concealing his embarrassment behind an +exaggerated courtesy. + +"As you did not bring my sister to see me," returned the Princess, with +a reproachful smile, "I thought I would just visit my poor exiled +Hungarian kinswoman myself." + +Banfi felt the sting of these last words, and murmured as he stroked his +beard-- + +"Here my fair sister-in-law may do with me what she will. She may make +me the butt of her sparkling wit; she may overwhelm me with her playful +sallies. In the Hall of the Diet, before the throne of the Prince, we +stand, face to face, as foes; but here you may command me, here I am +only your most devoted servant, who delights to do homage to your +charms, and is beside himself for joy to have you as his guest." + +With these words Banfi embraced the majestic lady with easy familiarity; +then, turning to his wife, added, not without a touch of malice-- + +"I hope you will not be jealous of Anna?" + +The Princess hastened to reply instead of Margaret. + +"Methinks you fear me too much to make love to me." + +"I might perhaps if you were my wife. Yet we were near being wedded +once. There was a time when I wanted to make you my bride." + +"But it went no further than wishing," returned the Princess, laughing. + +"We soon learned to know each other," continued Banfi. "There would have +been no room in one house for two such heads as ours, which find one +realm too small to hold them both. We both of us love to rule. We should +have been hard put to it if one had been obliged to obey the other. +Things fell out for the best. We have found our corresponding +halves--you Apafi; I Margaret--and we are both contented." + +With these words Banfi tenderly kissed his wife's hand and departed, +leaving the sisters alone. + +Anna, with noble gravity, placed her hand on the shoulder of her sister, +who looked up to her with a soft smile like an innocent child regarding +its guardian angel. + +"You have been weeping," began the Princess; "'tis in vain that you try +to put a good face on it." + +"I have not been weeping!" returned Margaret, keeping her countenance +with wonderful self-control. + +"Well, well; I'm glad you conceal it. That shows you love him; and if +ever there was a time when your husband needed your love, your +watchfulness, and your protection, it is now." + +"Your words alarm me! You have something extraordinary to tell me!" + +"My coming here at all must have been enough to have alarmed you. You +may well suppose that I would not come to your castle for nothing. We +have both equal cause to fear a certain person, and if we do not quickly +come to an understanding, one of us may lose what she prizes most in the +world." + +"Speak! oh, speak!" cried Dame Banfi, trembling, and making her sister +sit down beside her on the sofa. + +"Our husbands have hated each other from the first. They were always of +different opinions, belonged to opposite parties, and early became +accustomed to regard each other as foes. Woe betide us if this hatred +should turn to open strife, and we should see our loved ones compass +each other's ruin." + +"Oh, I can positively assure you that Banfi nourishes no hostile feeling +against your husband." + +"I do not apprehend Apafi's fall, but your husband's. The throne upon +which he was placed by force has quite changed Apafi's character. I +perceive, to my consternation, that he has begun to grow jealous of his +authority. Why, even at rsekjvr, when he first became Prince, he +expressed his anxiety to the Grand Vizier that Gabriel Haller was +plotting for the diadem, whereupon the Grand Vizier had poor Haller +beheaded there and then without my husband's knowledge; but Apafi still +recollects the message your husband sent him on that occasion, namely, +that ere long he would tear from his shoulders the green velvet mantle, +the symbol of the princely dignity." + +"Oh, my God! what must I not fear?" + +"Nothing, so long as I do not lose my husband's favour. While you are +securely sleeping, I am watchfully guarding against his passionate +outbursts, and hitherto God has given me strength to fight against the +monsters who would make of his reign a bloody memorial. But there is a +certain condition of mind to which my husband is liable when my +influence over him loses all its talismanic power; when, revolting +against his own nature, his gentleness turns to ravening savagery; when +his eyes, usually so ready to weep at the death of his lowliest vassal, +seem to thirst for blood; when he throws off his habitual +circumspectness and becomes wildly reckless. And this condition--I blush +to confess it--is drunkenness. I do not bring it against him as an +accusation. He whom we love has no fault in our eyes." + +"Except one thing--his infidelity to us," interrupted Margaret. + +"That too, yes, that too must be forgiven when it becomes a question of +saving his life," replied the Princess. + +"Oh, Anna!" cried Margaret, "you make me suspect mysteries which you +will not reveal to me." + +"What you ought to know you shall know. A little while ago your husband, +with haughty presumption, opposed himself to a mighty faction which has +kings for its confederates and kings for its antagonists; he might just +as well have opposed Destiny herself. He is too proud to calculate the +dangers which he thus draws down upon his head; or does he really think +that they who sharpen their swords against a reigning monarch would +suffer for an instant one of their own subjects to raise his head +against them? And Banfi has threatened, mocked, insulted them, and +entangled the meshes of their well and widely laid plans--nay, more, he +has encountered and browbeaten them in the very presence of the +Prince." + +Dame Banfi folded her arms in timid resignation. + +"I see the storm which is gathering over Banfi's head. In his drunken +fits, Apafi has let fall hints which have filled my soul with terror, +and I don't wish Apafi's to be the hand to strike down Banfi for the +sake of others. They will try to catch him at every turn, but we two +will watch over him. I will endeavour to keep back the stroke, yet +should it fall, 'tis for you to ward it off. We must both possess the +entire love and confidence of our consorts, so as to be able to +intervene energetically and decisively should they come to blows. For +would it not be frightful if one fell by the other's hand, and one of us +were the cause of the other's misery?" + +Margaret timidly pressed Anna's hand. + +"What am I to do? Oh, my God! what can I do? How can I intervene? I have +no power." + +"Your power lies in your love, watchfulness, and self-sacrifice," +returned Dame Apafi with an exalted look, striving to inspire her weaker +sister with something of her own strength. + +At that moment the fate of two men was in the hands of two angels, and +the fate of those two men was one with the fate of Transylvania. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE. + + +As Denis Banfi, after quitting his wife's chamber, was descending the +spiral staircase which led to the hall, he saw a young horseman come +galloping at full speed into the courtyard. + +The horseman was covered with blood and foam. As he sprang from his +horse the beast collapsed altogether; but the rider rushed pell-mell +towards Banfi, who, recognizing in him one of his captains, Gabriel +Benk, went to meet him, and asked him what was the matter. + +"Sir," began the gasping knight, catching his breath, "Ali Pasha is +attacking Banfi-Hunyad." + +"Is that all?" said Banfi gruffly, not displeased that Fate had given +his irritated temper something to rend and tear. "Send Veer hither!" he +cried to his retainers; "and you, when you have got your breath, just +tell me how the matter went." + +"I must be brief, my lord. I come from the thick of the fight. Yesterday +a troop of Kurdish freebooters appeared before Banfi-Hunyad. Your +lordship's captain, Gregory Ster, anticipating that they had come to +levy blackmail, went out against them with the castle bands, engaged in +combat with them, drove them from beneath the walls after a sharp +contest, and, following up his advantage, sounded a charge and pursued +the fugitives in the direction of Zenlelke. We were still pursuing the +Kurds, who fled headlong, when suddenly we saw ourselves attacked in +flank; and in a trice the whole plain was swarming with Turkish +horsemen, who overran us like ants. I cannot exactly tell their numbers, +but I saw three horse-tail standards with my own eyes, which proves +that the Pasha himself was with the expedition. Ster had no time to +make good his retreat to Banfi-Hunyad." + +"The devil!" cried Banfi. + +"Every one of us had to do with two or three of them. Ster himself +seized a morning-star with one hand and a broadsword with the other, and +cried to me--I was by his side--'My son, leave the battle-field, cut +your way through! Fly to Bonczhida and tell the news!' I heard no more. +The surging masses parted us; so I threw my shield over my shoulders, +bowed my head deep down over my saddle-bow, gave my nag the spur, and +galloped out of the fight. About one hundred horsemen pursued me, the +darts fell like a hailstorm on my shield; but my good horse, well aware +of the danger, redoubled his speed, and so the pursuers lost trace of +me." + +"Did you come direct to Bonczhida?" + +"No; I made a side-spring to Banfi-Hunyad, to warn the people there of +their danger, so that they might have time to escape to the mountains." + +"You did wisely. Then the people have escaped?" + +"By no means. It was in front of Dame Vizaknai's house that I told the +news to the people. Their faces turned pale, when all at once the lady +of the house appeared with a drawn sword in her hand, and as if +possessed by the spirits of a hundred warriors, stood among the people +with sparkling eyes and thus addressed them-- + +"'Are ye men? If so, seize your weapons, go out upon the ramparts, and +show the world that you can defend the place where your children were +born and your fathers lie buried. But if ye are cowards, then fly +whither you will; but the women will remain behind here with me, to show +the savage foe that none is too weak to fight for hearth and home.'" + +Banfi, with a hoarse voice, called to his armourers to bring him +breastplate, spear, and helmet, and beckoned to the panting messenger to +go on with his story. + +"At these words the people uttered a loud and furious cry. The women, +like so many Bacchantes, ran in search of weapons, and mounted the +ramparts by the side of their husbands, whom the determination of their +wives had turned into veritable heroes. Every one seized the first thing +that came to hand--scythes, spades, flails. Meanwhile, Dame Vizaknai was +everywhere at once, marshalling and haranguing the combatants, +barricading the church, breaking down the bridge, so that when I left +the town, it was already in a fair state of defence. Thereupon I swam +the Krs, to avoid making a long circuit, and came hither through the +woods and by-ways." + +During the latter part of this narrative Banfi seemed to be nearly +beside himself. He waited now for neither armour nor helmet, but roared +for his horse; and as he sprang into the saddle, cried to Veer, who was +hastening up-- + +"After me to Banfi-Hunyad! March day and night. The infantry must go +round by the Gyalyui Alps. The cavalry will follow me to Klausenburg. +Light beacons in the mountains as you approach, that I may attack the +foe simultaneously with the vanguard." + +"Would it not perhaps be better if your Excellency remained behind with +the main army?" said George Veer, with an anxious face. + +"Do what I bid you, sir!" was Banfi's reply; and giving his horse the +spur, he dashed off, followed by about half-a-dozen of his suite. + +"What ails him then, that he will neither wait for us, nor inform his +wife and the Princess of what has happened?" + +"He was aghast when I told him that Dame Vizaknai was defending +Banfi-Hunyad," said Benk apologetically. "She is an old flame of his +whom he has long forgotten; but his youthful affection seemed to revive +him when he heard of her heroic audacity." + +George Veer, satisfied with this explanation, ordered his squadrons to +take horse forthwith; and after previously informing Lady Banfi that he +was off on a petty raid, departed for Klausenburg, leaving the command +of the infantry to Captain Michael Angel, who did not break up till +evening, the road along the Snow Mountains being much the shorter way. + +Just as they were about to start, a tattered young Szekler, with pale +cheeks but strong arms, stepped forth. His companions had pushed him +into the front ranks. + +"Come, sing us a battle-song!" they cried. + +It was the rude, popular poet, Ambrose Gelenze. + +Drawing from the pocket of his tunic his Bible, on the inside of the +parchment covers of which he used to jot down his improvised war-songs, +he placed himself in front of the host, and began to sing the following +simple lay, the whole of the Transylvanian gentry repeating it word for +word as they marched after him-- + + "Now dawns serene the morning sheen, + The wonted hour hath come; + Sounds bold and free the merry march, + Nor bush nor brake is dumb! + Then up! to horse! and scale the height, + Bold Magyar! Szekler steeled in fight! + And sturdy Saxon hind! + A laggard he who doth not hie + When straight before the road doth lie; + And where there is no road to go, then climb, nor look behind!" + +This song, sung by thousands and thousands of warriors, gradually died +away in the distance. + + * * * * * + +George Veer, on reaching Klausenburg, no longer found Banfi there. The +Lord-Lieutenant with two hundred horsemen had departed an hour before. + +Veer, after allowing his men a brief halt, followed Banfi all night long +without being able to overtake him; the Baron had always the start of +him, though sometimes only a few minutes. + +It was already late in the night when Banfi with his two hundred +horsemen reached the point where the Krs intersects the woody dale; +just where a bridge crosses the stream the Turk had pitched his camp. +Watchful Bedouins lay stretched on their bellies there, with their long +muskets in their hands. It was impossible to surprise them. + +In the direction of Banfi-Hunyad a red glow illuminated the sky, +alternately waxing and waning. + +Leaving his horsemen in ambush on the opposite shore, Banfi with four +companions descended to the stream to seek for a ford. The Krs is +there so rapid that it can unhorse the firmest rider. Fortunately it had +fallen so much in consequence of the summer drought, that Banfi soon +found a place where the water flowed more calmly, and waded successfully +through it with his escort. One of them he sent back to fetch the rest, +but he himself with the other three remained on the opposite bank +looking steadily in the direction of the fire. + +Meanwhile a patrol of Bedouin horsemen, who were keeping watch on the +bank, perceived the three riders and their leader, and challenged them. + +Banfi would have fallen back, but three of the Bedouins charged upon him +forthwith, while the three others with couched lances fell upon his +comrades. + +"Bend your heads down over the necks of your horses, and seize their +lances with your left hands!" cried Banfi to his companions; and with +that they all four drew their swords, went at full tilt against the foe, +and collided beneath the dark shadows without another word. + +Banfi was in the centre. The lances of the three Bedouins whizzed +through the air simultaneously, and Banfi's comrades fell on both sides +of him, transfixed, from their horses, while he with his left hand +skilfully disarmed one of the spearmen, at the same time dealing him a +blow with his right hand which cleft his skull. He then turned +single-handed upon his two nearest assailants, and cut down one with his +lance and the other with his sword. + +But now the three remaining horsemen fell furiously upon him. + +"Come on then!" shouted Banfi, gnashing his teeth; and with that +terrible humour peculiar to certain warriors in the hour of danger, he +added--"I'll teach you how to wield the spear, my boys!" and setting his +back against a clump of trees, he stuck his sword into its sheath, +seized his spear with both hands, and not three minutes had elapsed +before all three Bedouins had fallen from their horses to the ground. + +Then he looked around to see if any more were coming, and was delighted +to observe that the Turks at the bridge had heard nothing of the tussle, +while his two hundred horsemen had come down to the river-side and were +noiselessly crossing to the opposite bank. + +Some of the fallen Bedouins were still moaning and groaning. + +"Smash their skulls in, that they may not betray us with their cries!" + +"Ought we not to await Veer's troops?" asked one of the captains. + +"We cannot. We haven't time!" replied Banfi, with his eyes fixed upon +the ruddy horizon, and the little band proceeded covertly through field +and forest. + +Soon a distant hubbub struck upon their ears, and when they had climbed +to the top of a little hill, Banfi-Hunyad emerged before their eyes. + +Banfi gave a sigh of relief. It was not the town that was burning, but +the haystacks. The roofs of the houses had been taken off beforehand by +the inhabitants themselves to prevent the enemy from setting them on +fire. Even the church and castle were roofless, and the Turkish host +could be seen swarming round them by the light of the conflagration, +whilst from the battlements a fiery rain of sulphur and pitch, +occasionally intermingled with heavy beams, poured down upon the +besiegers, and drove them back from the walls. + +Ali Pasha had not waited for his artillery,--it had stuck fast in the +wretched roads,--imagining that he could easily storm a place defended +only by women and peasants. But it is notorious that despair makes every +one a soldier, and that even scythes and axes are good weapons in +resolute hands. + +At this spectacle Banfi's features grew flaming red. He fancied he saw a +white female form on the pinnacle of the tower, immediately gave his +horse the spur, and rushed forward like a whirlwind, crying to his +horsemen-- + +"Don't count the enemy now; we shall have time enough for that +afterwards, when we have cut them all down!" and in a quarter of an hour +the little band had reached the camp before the town. + +There every one was slumbering. Whilst one half of the host was storming +the town the other found time to repose. Even the heads of the sentries +hung drowsily down. There they lay, close to their horses, and only +awoke out of their dreams when Banfi was already charging through their +ranks. + +The Baron, who seemed bent upon relieving the besieged single-handed, +cut down everything that came in his way; while the Turks, scared out of +their slumbers, blindly snatched up sword and spear, and began +massacring each other, despite all the efforts of the Tsahusz's to +restore order. + +Meanwhile Banfi was madly forcing his way through the Turkish host +surrounding the church. The foremost rows fled back aghast at this +unexpected onslaught; but a brigade of Ali Pasha's picked Mamelukes rode +forward and arrested the flight. + +A gigantic Moor stood at the head of this troop. His horse too was an +extraordinarily big beast, a stallion sixteen hands high. The +protuberant, swelling muscles of the dusky giant's naked arms shone like +steel in the hellish glare of the burning haystacks, his broad mouth was +bleeding from the blow of a stone, and the whites of his eyes gleamed +ghost-like out of his dark countenance. + +"Halt, Giaour!" roared the Moor, with a voice which rose above the din +of battle, and he went straight for Banfi. In his enormous fist sparkled +a sabre as broad as a man's hand; it appeared too heavy even for him. + +Two hussars riding in front of Banfi fell right and left before two +blows from the monster, one without his head, the other cleft to the +shoulder. Throwing back his arm for a third stroke, the Moor rose in his +stirrups, and exclaimed with a voice of thunder-- + +"I am Kariassar, the invincible! Thank thy God that thou diest by my +hand!" and with that he swept his sword backwards, and dealt a +tremendous blow at Banfi's head. + +The Baron, with the utmost sangfroid, brought his sword in front of his +face, and at the very moment when Kariassar let fly at him, made with +lightning-like swiftness a dextrous lunge at the Moor's fist--it was +what fencers call _an inner cut_--striking off Kariassar's four fingers, +so that the heavy scimitar fell clashing out of the fingerless hand. + +The black's face grew pale from rage and pain. With a frightful howl he +instantly threw himself on Banfi, and disregarding fresh wounds on his +face and shoulders, seized Banfi's right hand with his left, and must +have dragged him from his horse by sheer brute force if the Baron had +not had an uncommonly firm seat. + +It seemed as if the Moor were capable of crushing him with only one +hand. But Banfi was a good rider, and now he pressed his horse tightly +with his knee, whereupon the noble beast reared and plunged; and while +the giant was struggling with his master, and tearing at his lacerated +arm with a lion's strength, the war-horse turned suddenly on the Moor, +struck him a blow on the thigh with its front hoof, bit his brawny +breast with foaming mouth, and shook the bitten part between its teeth. + +Kariassar yelled aloud, and suddenly relinquishing the Baron, grasped +his poniard with his left hand, and writhing with pain, drew it from its +sheath; but at the self-same moment Banfi dealt a rapid stroke at the +giant's neck. The huge head rolled suddenly to the ground, and while the +blood shot up in a threefold jet from the severed neck, the headless +figure remained for an instant swaying on its horse, and spasmodically +waving its poniard--a fearful spectacle to friend and foe. + +At the sight of their leader's fall the terrified Mamelukes scattered +in all directions, trampling one another down in their panic-flight. At +the same time the defenders of the church threw down their barricades +and made a sortie, Dame Vizaknai at their head with a drawn sword, and +close behind her the priests as standard-bearers with the church's +banners. The great besieging host, thus caught between two fires, was +cut in two, leaving a free space on one side for the scythes of the +peasants, and on the other for the csakanys of the hussars. + +The csakany, by the way, is a mighty weapon in the hands of those who +know how to use it. Its strokes are almost unavoidable. Its long, +pointed beak smites down with such force as to crush shield and helmet +to pieces, and a sword is no defence against it. + +Step by step the besieged and the relief party drew nearer to each +other, driving before them the Janissaries, who contested every inch of +ground, and even when lying on the ground half-dead, aimed with their +daggers at the feet of the horses which trampled them down. + +Dame Vizaknai sprang towards Denis Banfi and seized his horse by the +bridle. + +"The danger is great, my lord! The Turk is twenty to one. Come behind +the churchyard wall." + +"I'll not budge a single step," replied Banfi coolly; "but that is no +reason why you should not save yourself behind your barricades." + +"Not another step do I budge either," rejoined Dame Vizaknai. + +"I can defend myself!" cried Banfi vehemently. + +"And I too!" replied the lady proudly. + +The next instant fresh squadrons came streaming up from every quarter, +as if they had fallen from the clouds or sprung from the earth--infantry +and cavalry with long muskets, bows and arrows, and ribboned darts. + +"Ali! Ali! Allah akbar!" + +The Hungarian forces ranged themselves in battle array, with their backs +to the churchyard wall, and awaited the attack. From the end of the +street a glittering array of horsemen was seen approaching; it consisted +of a picked corps of Spahis[39] on stately Arabs, whose emerald-set +saddles sparkled in the firelight. In their midst rode Ali on a slender, +snow-white Barbary steed, in his hand flashed a diamond-hilted +scimitar; on his head he wore a turbaned helmet; his long black beard +fell down over his silver breastplate. On coming within gunshot of +Banfi's host, he halted and marshalled his squadrons. + + [Footnote 39: _Spahis._ Light Turkish cavalry.] + +Hitherto Banfi had not touched his pistols, the wonderfully-carved ivory +handles of which peeped forth from his holsters. But now he drew them +forth and handed them to Dame Vizaknai. + +"Take them!" said he; "you must have wherewith to defend yourself." + +Meanwhile Ali Pasha had sent forward a herald, who, drawing near to the +Hungarians, delivered the following message to them-- + +"My master, Ali Pasha, informs you, O ye unbelieving Giaours, that every +loophole of escape is closed. Wherefore then strive against him further? +Lay down your weapons and throw yourselves upon his mercy." + +Scarcely had the herald finished speaking when two shots resounded, and +he fell dead from his horse. Dame Vizaknai had fired both pistols at him +by way of reply. Then Ali Pasha beckoned furiously to the squadrons +surrounding him, and from all sides there rained darts, bullets, and +arrows on the little band of Hungarians. The same moment Dame Vizaknai +climbed on to Banfi's stirrups, and supporting herself on his shoulders +with one hand, cried-- + +"Fear nought, my friends!" + +A crackling report and a hissing shower of darts followed. Dame Vizaknai +covered Banfi with her body, and after the fiery tempest had roared +past, the Baron felt her hold upon his arm relaxing. An arrow had struck +her just above the heart. + +"That arrow was meant for you," said Dame Vizaknai, with a faint voice, +and she sank dead to the ground. + +"Poor lady!" cried Banfi, with a look of compassion. "She always loved +me, and would never show it." + +And then blood flowed instead of tears. + +The Turkish host surrounded the Hungarians on every side, but were +unable to break through their ranks. Banfi was already fighting with his +eighth Spahi, who like the seven others was at last overcome by the +Baron's extraordinary dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage. + +"Why can't you cut down that grizzly dog?" roared he furiously, and +galloped himself against Banfi, driving his flying followers out of his +way with the flat part of his sword-blade. "'Tis I, Ali Pasha, who now +stands before thee, vile hog!" bellowed he, gnashing his teeth, "thou +son of a dog, thou." + +"Keep your titles for yourself," cried Banfi, and riding up to the Pasha +he dealt him a tremendous blow on the helmet with his sword, so that +sword and helmet were both smashed to pieces, and the champions reeled +back half stunned. Ali quickly snatched from his armour-bearers a round +shield, while Banfi was hastily provided with a steel csakany, and again +they rushed upon each other. + +The csakany fell with fearful force upon the shield, and knocked a hole +through it, while Ali lunged forward with his scimitar, and this time +only a very dexterous twist of the head saved Banfi's life. + +"I'll play ball with thy head!" cried Ali contemptuously. + +"And I'll make a broom of thy beard!" retorted Banfi. + +"I'll have thy coat-of-arms nailed up over my stables!" + +"And thy skin, stuffed with sawdust, shall serve me as a scarecrow!" + +"Thou rebellious slave!" + +"Thou barber's apprentice turned general." + +Every abusive epithet was accompanied by a fresh and furious blow. + +"Thou dishonourable girl-snatcher," cried the Pasha, with foaming mouth. +"Thou dost filch Turkish maidens for thy unclean embraces; therefore +will I carry off thy wife and make her the lowest slave in my harem." + +To Banfi the world seemed all at once to be turning round and round. His +soul had received three wounds, which quite divested him of humanity. + +"Thou accursed devil," he roared, gnashing his teeth, seized his csakany +by the middle with both hands, sprang closer to Ali, and whirled his +weapon with lightning-like rapidity over his head, so that it flew round +and round in his hands like the sail of a windmill, crashing down now +with its axe-head, now with its bullet-shaped nether end on his +antagonist's shield, and attacking and defending himself at the same +time. Ali Pasha, confused at this altogether novel mode of attack, would +have retired; but the two war-horses, furiously biting each other about +the head and neck, were now taking part in the contest of their masters, +and could not be parted. + +The Spahis, seeing their leader waver, threw themselves between the +combatants and drove from Banfi's side his escort of hussars. The Baron +now perceiving that all his people had fled to the churchyard, directed +one last swift stroke at Ali's shield, which, to judge from Ali's +agonized howl, penetrated it at the very spot where fitted on to the +arm. Banfi had no time for a third encounter, as he was now completely +surrounded. + +At that moment a well-known flourish of trumpets resounded in the rear +of the combatants, and a fresh and general battle-cry mingled with the +din-- + +"God and St. Michael." + +George Veer had arrived with the banderia. + +"God and St. Michael!" thundered the leader of the nobility, conspicuous +among them all in his silver coat of mail with the bearskin thrown over +his shoulders; and with his toothed battle-axe he hewed his way through +the ranks of the astonished Turks. + +The attack was skilfully conducted; the mounted nobility pressed on from +all sides, simultaneously bringing the Turkish host everywhere into +confusion, so that one wing could not assist the other, and the +outermost ranks were always borne down by superior numbers. + +Ali Pasha had received a bad wound in the arm from Banfi's last blow, +which had daunted his courage, so he stuck his spurs into his horse's +sides and gave the signal for retreat. + +The Turkish host was driven head and heels out of the town, and its +leaders endeavoured to retreat among the Gyalyui Alps, hoping to rally +it again in the narrow defiles. + +Outside the town the battle, fast becoming a rout, still raged +furiously. The Hungarians scattered about the burning hayricks, and were +so intermingled in the darkness of the night with their opponents that +they could only distinguish one another by their battle-cries. + +The harassed Turkish host, which in the darkness and confusion at one +time took refuge among the enemy, and at another cut down their own +comrades, tried to imitate the battle-cry of the Hungarians, but this +only made the mischief greater; for as they could not pronounce the +words "Angel Michael," but always cried "Anchal Michel," they exposed +themselves more completely to the Hungarians. + +The Turkish army was now completely beaten; more than a thousand of its +dead lay in the streets and around the church, and only the mountain +passes, into which it was not prudent for the Hungarians to follow them, +saved them from utter annihilation. + +George Veer therefore sounded the recall, whilst Banfi, with restless +rage, rushed hither and thither after the flying foe. All in vain; every +way was barred by the trunks of trees which the Turks had hewn down in +hot haste. + +"We must let them escape!" cried Veer, thrusting his sabre into its +sheath. + +"Say not so! say not so!" cried Banfi excitedly, and riding up to the +top of a hillock, he seemed to be observing something in the distance. +Suddenly he exclaimed with a joyful voice--"Look yonder. The +fire-signals have just been lit!" + +And indeed on the crests of the Gyalyui Mountains the fire-signals could +be seen flashing up one by one in a long line. + +"Those are our people!" cried Banfi, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk is +caught in the trap. Forward!" And remarshalling his squadrons, he +galloped towards the barricaded forest paths, heedless of the warnings +of the more circumspect Veer. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Ali Pasha, abandoning his tents, camels, and booty-laden +wagons to the enemy, sent Dzem Haman, the Albanian commander, on before, +to level the roads over the snowy mountains. + +As now Dzem Haman was advancing through the darkness and superintending +the labours of his Albanian pioneers, he heard voices in the steep rock +above his head, and a company of armed men suddenly emerged from the +mountain passes before his eyes. + +The troops on both sides challenged each other simultaneously. + +"Who are ye? What are you doing?" + +"We are carrying stones," answered Dzem Haman. "And you?" + +"We too are carrying stones," was the answer from above. + +"We are Dzem Haman's men, who are removing the stones from the path of +Ali Pasha--and ye, are you not Csaky's men?" + +"We are collecting stones for the head of Ali Pasha, and are Michael +Angel's people," resounded from above, and at the same time a terrible +rain of stones rolled down upon the heads of the Albanians, by way of +confirming the statement. + +"Michel Anchal is here also!" roared the terrified Albanians, falling +back aghast, and creating a panic among those behind them by declaring +that they were surrounded. + +At these tidings, the Turkish host, harassed from before and behind, +resolved itself into a disorderly mass, on which, at break of day, the +Hungarian infantry began rolling enormous masses of stone and rock. + +Ali Pasha attempted first on one side and then on another to break +through the enemy's lines, but was everywhere driven back with fearful +loss by the missiles hurled down from above. The boldest warriors, who +had fought man to man in a hundred battles, fled back pale and trembling +before the thundering masses of rock, which so completely smashed +everything that came in their way that horse and rider were +undistinguishable. + +Ali Pasha tore his beard in impotent rage on perceiving that he and all +his host were at the mercy of an army even now much weaker than his own. + +"There is neither help nor refuge, save with the Most High God!" cried +he, breaking his sword in twain in his despair; and drawing out his +pistols, he pointed them at his own heart. + +At that moment a hand snatched his weapons from him, and Ali Pasha saw +Zlfikar before him. + +"What wouldst thou do, madman?" cried he. "Thou wouldst not have me fall +into the hands of the unbelievers?" + +"I would deliver you and your host out of their hands," said Zlfikar. + +"By the shadow of Allah, thou dost speak brave words, and if thou +couldst but do as thou sayst, I would make thee the foremost of my +captains." + +"I desire no such honour. Promise me a thousand ducats, and send me as a +messenger to Banfi." + +"So that thou mayst betray my position to him, eh! thou cur?" + +"I've no need to do that. He can see it for himself from yon hill-top. +You are as good as dead and buried already, so that you have no choice +but to trust to me. You may hold out for a couple of days perhaps; but +then you and your bravest heroes must perish with hunger just like me. +We are all in the same evil case, there is nothing to choose between any +of us." + +"And what wouldst thou do, wretched slave?" + +"Induce Banfi to withdraw his troops from the road leading to Kalota, +and thus leave us a loophole of escape." + +"And dost thou think that possible?" + +"It may, or it may not be so. Where death is certain, a man cares not +what he risks. If I can speak to Banfi this evening, you may be able to +escape the same night. If I succeed, well. If not, we shall be no worse +off than we are now." + +"The fellow speaks boldly. Do as thou dost desire. I'll trust thee. +Allah alone reads the secrets of the heart. Go!" + +Zlfikar laid down his arms, and went all alone down to the narrow pass +leading to Kalota. When he came to the Hungarian outposts, his eyes fell +upon rows of dead Turks who had been hung up on the trees along the +wayside. This sight did not appear to disturb the renegade in the least. +He stepped boldly among the Magyars, and as they seized him, said +quickly to them in the purest Hungarian-- + +"Bring me to Denis Banfi. I am his spy!" + +"You lie!" cried they. "Sling him up." + +"I can prove it," continued Zlfikar, with a loud voice, and taking a +neatly-folded parchment out of his turban, he handed it to the captain. + +The letter contained these words-- + +"I, Gregory Ster, hereby declare to all the commanders of the Hungarian +troops that Zlfikar, the bearer of this letter, is my faithful war-spy. +Let him pass free everywhere." + +The captain gave back the letter, not without grumbling, and bade two of +his soldiers lead Zlfikar to Banfi, but they were to cut him down at +once if the general did not acknowledge him. However, at the first +glance Banfi recognized in him Pongracz, Balassa's former servant, and +motioned to his men to leave them alone together. + +"So you have turned Turk?" said Banfi. + +"This is no time for questions, my lord. 'Tis for me to speak, and to +the point. I'll be brief, if you'll let me. Emerich Balassa expelled me +from his house when he learnt that I had helped you to abduct Azrael." + +"Good!" said Banfi, contracting his brows. "The girl has flown from me +too--whither, I know not." + +"Yes, my lord, you do; and the worst of it is, others know it also. +Close to the Gradina Dracului there is a habitation among the rocks, and +there she dwells." + +"Silence!" cried Banfi, aghast. "How know you that?" + +"Balassa has lodged a complaint with the Prince about the abduction of +the girl. The matter is not such a trifle as you imagine. Azrael is the +Sultan's daughter, who, after being betrothed to Ali Pasha, was carried +off by Corsar Beg, whom Balassa's poison alone saved from the silken +cord, while Balassa himself has become a homeless vagabond because of +her. She has been the ruin of all who ever possessed her. It is your +turn now. The Prince having promised the disgraced Ladislaus Csaky +everything he likes to ask, if only he can ferret out the girl's +hiding-place, Csaky slyly commissioned the Patrol-officer to make +inquiries among the people whether a panther had been seen anywhere in +the woods, for he well knew that it is the habit of this wild beast to +roam about in search of prey. Its track led them to the rocky retreat, +the girl has been seen, and everything discovered." + +"Devils and hell!" cried Banfi, turning pale. + +"Listen further. Csaky communicated his plan to Ali Pasha, and it was +agreed between them that while the Pasha attacked Banfi-Hunyad, Csaky +with two thousand Wallachs was to scour the mountains under the pretext +of a hunt, and storm the Devil's Garden." + +"What infernal villainy!" cried Banfi, striking his sword with his fist. + +"It is just possible, my lord, that you might still arrive in time," +added the renegade insidiously, "if you do not stay here too long." + +"We'll be off at once," cried Banfi, pale with rage. "I'll teach these +lickspittlers to invade the domains of a free nobleman at the very +moment when he himself is fighting against the enemies of his country. A +few hundred men will be sufficient to keep Ali Pasha in check from this +side. With the rest I wager I'll be able to pull Master Ladislaus Csaky +out by the ears if I catch him trespassing." + +And immediately Banfi commanded his men to set out for Marisel as +swiftly and as silently as possible, and bade the little band he left +behind him light many large fires in the wood, so as to make the enemy +believe that the whole host was bivouacking there, while he himself +hastened towards the imperilled hiding-place. To Zlfikar he paid five +hundred gold pieces for his timely warning. + +The same night Ali Pasha fell with his whole host upon the two or three +hundred Hungarians whom Banfi had left behind him; scattered them after +a brief resistance, and hastened back to Grosswardein, swallowing as +best he could the indignity of a great defeat, for he left behind him +two thousand dead, and the whole of his baggage. + +From him too Zlfikar received the covenanted one thousand gold pieces, +thus doing a service to the Turks and to the Hungarians at the same +time, and making both of them pay him for his pains. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL. + + +The blast of hunting-horns resounded from the Batrina Mountains, the +hubbub of the chase came nearer and nearer; a group of well-dressed, +well-mounted gentlemen led the way, and at their head rode Count +Ladislaus Csaky. + +"After him! after him!" resounded on all sides, and the pack were +already in full cry, when the cavalcade, emerging from the thicket into +an open glade, suddenly encountered another party coming from the +opposite direction, in whose leader they all recognized Denis Banfi. +Csaky with considerable confusion called the beaters back. + +Banfi rode up to the group with an ironical smile. + +"Welcome, gentlemen, to my domains. Delighted, I'm sure, at my great +good fortune. Probably you have lost your way; but, if not, you are my +guests, and consequently doubly welcome. But, pray, why do you stare at +me so wildly? You really remind me of the Hindoo proverb, which says, He +who beats the woods for a stag, oftentimes falls in with a lion." + +"We regard your Excellency neither as a stag nor yet as a lion," +returned Csaky, blushing up to the ears in his confusion. "The fact is, +we fancied ourselves on lawful ground." + +"Of course! of course!" returned Banfi, with an offensive smile. "You +are on my property, and that is certainly lawful ground. I don't know +how to express my gratitude for such an honour. No doubt you are tired +too. I therefore invite you all to Bonczhida, just to take a little +pot-luck with me." + +"We are much obliged," returned Csaky angrily, "but we are unable just +now to accept your invitation." + +"Nay, nay; you'll not put me off. It is not my practice to let those who +have come to me as guests depart hungry and thirsty. I cannot regard +you as poachers, I suppose? And if you are not poachers, you must be +guests." + +"A third case is also possible." + +"I know of none." + +"Your Excellency shall learn from me that there is, though." + +"Quite right. But there will be time for that at table. So turn your +horses' heads towards Bonczhida, gentlemen." + +"I've already said that we can't accept your invitation." + +"What! Are you so ill acquainted with my hospitality as not to know +that, if necessary, I will carry you off by force? Ha, ha! You must take +away with you a reminiscence of Bonczhida. As you know now what my wild +animals are like, you must make the acquaintance of my domestic animals +also. In any case, I mean to take you by force." + +"A truce to jesting, Banfi. This is not the place for it." + +"Methinks 'tis you that jest. I am perfectly serious when I say that I +will take you with me even against your will." + +"We should like to see you do it." + +"Then see it you shall," and with that Banfi blew on his horn, and +instantly armed squadrons poured forth from every corner of the wood. +Count Csaky and his merry men were completely surrounded. + +"Ha! this is treachery!" cried Csaky wildly. + +"Oh dear, no! 'Tis only a little carnival jest," replied Banfi, +laughing. "This time 'tis the quarry which captures the huntsmen. +Forward, comrades! Take these gentlemen's horses by the bridles, and +follow me with them to Bonczhida. If any one stands upon ceremony, tie +his legs to the stirrups." + +"I protest against this compulsion," cried Csaky furiously. "I take you +all to witness that I enter my protest against this act of violence." + +"I for my part call every one to witness," repeated Banfi, laughing, +"that I've invited these gentlemen to a banquet in the most friendly +manner in the world." + +"I protest! 'Tis violence." + +"Nonsense! 'Tis a merry jest. 'Tis Hungarian hospitality!" + +Some of the gentlemen laughed, others swore. As however Banfi had +numbers on his side, the Csakyites sulkily and wrathfully submitted at +last to their jocose tyrant, and allowed themselves to be conducted to +Bonczhida, though Csaky stopped every one he met on the road, and took +them to witness that Banfi was doing him violence, while Banfi +laughingly endeavoured to make it plain to the good people that the +worthy gentleman was a trifle fuddled, and that they were playing a +harmless little practical joke upon him. + +"You will live to bitterly rue this!" cried Csaky, gnashing his teeth, +and half beside himself with rage. + +As they were passing through a village, one of Csaky's company, a young +nobleman, whom his friends called Szantho, broke away from the crowd and +vanished before he could be overtaken. + +"Let him go to the devil!" cried Banfi gaily. "We will manage to be +merry without him, eh! my lord Ladislaus Csaky?" + +Gradually Csaky recovered his sangfroid, and his wrath seemed to abate; +indeed, by the time they reached Bonczhida he wore a radiantly smiling +countenance, for he was well aware that it would be indecent as well as +ridiculous to pull wry faces before ladies. He therefore allowed himself +to be presented to Dames Apafi and Banfi as a chance guest picked up on +the way, without the least show of ill-humour. + +Banfi crowned his insult by assigning to Csaky the place of honour at +the head of the table, next his wife, and sitting opposite to him +treated him with the most marked attention, through which there ran, +however, a vein of the most trenchant irony. And Csaky was not even able +to resent it! What must his feelings have been! + +As the banquet was drawing to a close and the general mirth increased +proportionately, Csaky grew more and more furious. He was sitting all +the time on burning coals, and had to smile and simper as if he liked +it. At last Banfi invented a fresh torture for him, by raising his pocal +and drinking his guest's health. Csaky was obliged to clink glasses, +drain his own to the very dregs, and endure to see Banfi laughing at him +in his sleeve all the time. Every drop he drank was so much poison to +him with that mocking laugh ringing in his ears. + +And all this refined torture was so delicately veiled, that it escaped +the attention of the ladies altogether. + +Just as the mirth was most uproarious, the folding-doors suddenly flew +wide open, and, without any previous announcement, Prince Michael Apafi, +to whom the fugitive Szantho had brought the news of Csaky's capture, +entered the room. + +Both ladies, with a cry of joyful surprise, hastened towards the +unexpected guest; but the gentlemen, perceiving from the Prince's face +that a storm was brewing, suddenly became very grave. + +Banfi alone preserved his usual grand seignorial gaiety, which could +even express anger with a smiling countenance. He sprang quickly from +his seat, and hastened joyfully towards the Prince. + +"By Heaven, a lucky coincidence! Your Highness comes to us at the very +instant that we are draining our glasses in your Highness's honour. This +is what I call an unlooked-for and most timely arrival." + +Apafi received this salutation with a slight nod, and leading the ladies +back to their places, sat down himself on Banfi's chair. Several of the +guests hastened to offer Banfi their seats, but the Prince beckoned him +to approach. + +"Your Excellency will remain standing. We would submit you to a little +friendly cross-examination." + +"If we are to be the judges in this case," interrupted the learned +Master Csekalusi, taking up his glass, "allow me to inform you that the +necessary preliminaries[40] have already been observed." + + [Footnote 40: A banquet was the usual prelude to + judicial as to all other public proceedings in + Hungary.] + +"I will be the judge," said Apafi; "although I do not quite know who is +the master at Bonczhida, myself or Denis Banfi." + +"The law of the land is the master of us both, your Highness," returned +Banfi. + +"Well answered! You would remind us that an Hungarian nobleman permits +no one to sit in judgment upon him in his own house. But this affair is +after all only a little carnival jest. At least you have been pleased to +call it so, and we will follow your example." + +The most anxious suspense was legible in the faces of all present: they +did not know whether the jest would end seriously or the reverse. + +"Your Excellency," continued Apafi, "has seized our envoy, Lord +Ladislaus Csaky, and brought him to your house by force." + +"Ah!" cried Banfi, with affected astonishment, "I see it all now. Why +then did not the Count tell me at once that you had sent him to hunt in +my preserves? And besides, if your Highness had taken a fancy to some of +my game, why did you not let me know it? I would have shot more +excellent bucks for your Highness than any that my Lord Csaky could +catch." + +"This has nothing to do with bucks, my lord baron. You know very well +the ins and outs of the whole business. Don't force me to speak out +plumply before these ladies." + +At these words Lady Banfi would have risen, but the Princess prevented +her. + +"You must remain here," she whispered in her ear. + +"So far, I don't understand a single word," said Banfi, in an injured +tone. + +"No? Then we'll recall to your mind a couple of circumstances. The +peasants have caught sight of a panther in your woods." + +"It is possible," returned Banfi, laughing--for a Hungarian gentleman +may jest with his guests but never be rude to them, however much they +offend him--"it is possible that this panther is a descendant of those +which came into the land with rpd,[41] and may therefore be called +ancestral panthers." + + [Footnote 41: rpd, the primeval ancestor of the + Hungarian princes, who first led the Magyars into the + plains of Hungary. He died in 907. With Hungarians, to + come in with rpd is like our coming over with the + Conqueror.] + +"It is no matter for jesting, my lord. That panther has torn a young +Wallach to pieces in the sight of several persons, wherefore I sent out +Lord Ladislaus Csaky to hunt down the beast and kill it. And Csaky had +seen the monster and was hard upon it when you met him in the forest and +stopped him." + +"Lord Ladislaus Csaky no doubt mistook his own tiger-skin for a +panther." + +"No gibes, please. The lair of the monster is discovered. Do you +understand me now?" + +"I understand your Highness. But 'twas a pity to put my lord Csaky to so +much inconvenience for such a trifle. So 'twas he then who discovered +the pleasure-house which I built over a hot spring among the rocks? +Well, I don't think even such a discovery as that will earn for him the +title of a Columbus." + +"You persist in sneering then? Will nothing make you bow your haughty +head? Suppose now I knew the secret of that mysterious cave, what +then?" + +Banfi began to change colour, and he answered in a low, husky voice, +like a man who finds it very difficult not to speak the truth. + +"'Tis a very simple matter, sir. It was I who discovered Brvolgy; but +as soon as the rumour of the hot spring spread abroad, the public tried +to take possession of it. Now, I had also discovered a rich mineral vein +beneath the Gradina Dracului, and to prevent it from being appropriated, +I had a little private pleasure-house built there among the rocks for +the exclusive use of my wife." + +By these last words Banfi wished to make the Prince understand that he +ought to spare his wife, but they produced exactly the contrary effect. + +"Oh, you vile hypocrite!" cried the Prince, starting up and striking the +table with his clenched fist. "You would use your wife as a cloak, well +knowing all the time that you keep there a Turkish girl on whose account +the Sultan is about to ravage the land with fire and sword!" + +Lady Banfi uttered a piercing shriek. Her sister whispered in her ear-- + +"Be strong! Now is the time to show what you are made of." + +Banfi furiously bit his lips, but controlled himself with a mighty +effort, and answered calmly-- + +"That is not true, sir! That I deny!" + +"What! Not true! There are people who have seen her." + +"Who?" + +"Clement, the Patrol-officer." + +"Clement the poet? Ah! We all know that lying is the masterpiece of +poets." + +"Very well, my lord baron. As you deny everything, I will try to get to +the bottom of the matter myself. I will therefore go in person to the +place in question, and if I find confirmation of that whereof you are +accused, let me tell you that a threefold punishment awaits you: first, +for the rape of the Turkish girl; next, for the violence done to a +princely messenger; and thirdly, for adultery. Each one of these deeds +is sufficient in itself to hurl you down from your presumptuous height. +My lord Csaky, lead us to this place; and you, my lord Denis Banfi, will +in the meantime remain here." + +Banfi stood there with a bloodless face, and his feet rooted to the +ground. + +Meanwhile his wife had risen from her seat, and rallying all her +strength with a supreme effort, stepped in front of the Prince and +said-- + +"Sir, pardon my husband! He knows nothing of this thing--the fault is +mine--the woman whom you seek turned to me for protection in her hour of +need--and--I concealed her in that place--without my husband's +knowledge." + +Every word she spoke seemed to cost the pale, fragile lady superhuman +exertion. Banfi turned very red and cast down his eyes before her. The +Princess looked triumphantly at her sister and pressed her hand. + +"Well done!" she whispered. "That was indeed noble and heroic!" + +Apafi saw through the magnanimous fraud; but he was determined that +Banfi should not escape him that way, so, turning wrathfully upon him, +he exclaimed-- + +"And you permit your wife to commit such indiscretions, which might so +easily ruin your family, nay, the realm itself? She must be punished for +it, and I therefore request you to reprimand her on the spot!" + +Lady Banfi, full of resignation, sank down upon her knees before her +guests, and bowed her head like a criminal awaiting punishment. + +"It is not my practice to correct my wife in public," murmured Banfi, +with an unsteady voice. + +"Then I'll do so myself," cried Apafi; and approaching the lady he +said--"You deserve, madame, to be sent to jail!" + +"That I would not allow, sir!" muttered Banfi between his teeth. + +He was now as pale as a corpse. All his blood, all his fire, seemed +concentrated in his eyes. All his muscles quivered with shame and rage. + +"Gentlemen!" interrupted a sweet, sonorous voice. How soothingly it +sounded amidst the rough contention of angry men. It was the voice of +the Princess, who stepped between the lady and her accuser. "In former +times," she cried reproachfully, "noblemen were ever wont to respect +noble ladies." + +"So you are again at hand to defend those whom I attack?" cried the +Prince petulantly. + +"I am again at hand to prevent your Highness from committing an act of +injustice. I have always the _right_ to defend my sister--but it becomes +my _duty_ to do so when she is insulted!" + +With these words the Princess embraced Margaret, who no sooner felt +herself in the embrace of a stronger than herself, than she lost all her +artificial strength, and sank senseless into her sister's arms. + +Banfi would have hastened to his wife's assistance, but Dame Apafi waved +him back. + +"Go!" cried she; "I'll take care of her!" + +"Then you mean to remain here?" said the Prince to his consort, in a +voice trembling between wrath and compassion. + +"My sister has need of me--and you, I see, can do without me." + +Apafi, ever since his wife had begun to speak, had plainly lowered his +crest, and fearing lest she might rout him altogether, he hastily +quitted the battle-field with a half triumph. He could not fail to be +very much discontented with the result of his investigation. He felt +that he had wounded Banfi in a sore place, but he also felt that the +wound was not mortal. The great nobleman had been affronted rather than +humbled. So much the worse for him! What will not bend must be broken. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVR. + + +It is the fate of many a town, as of many a nation, to rise from the +dead. + +One people perishes there. The walls fall to pieces. The name of the +town passes into oblivion. And again there comes another people, which +builds upon the ruins, gives the place a new name; and while the old +stones, cast one upon another, seem to bewail the past, the city, +radiant with new palaces, rejoices in its youth like a flattered beauty. + +The hill on which Transylvania's only fortress stands was once covered +with massive buildings by Diurban's race. Who now remembers so much as +its name? The Roman legions subjected the nation, threw down the +shapeless walls, and instead of the altar dedicated to the Blood-God, +and stained with human sacrifices, there arose a temple of Vesta; the +wooden palace of the Dacian duke vanished, and the marble halls of the +proprtor took its place, with their Corinthian columns, their white +mosaic floor, their artistically carved divinities. The place was then +called _Colonia Apulensis_. + +Again the town grew old, fell down, and died. + +A new and mightier race came into it; the former inhabitants were buried +beneath the ruins of their palaces and temples, and instead of the +proprtor's palace, the gilded and enamelled dwelling of Duke Gyula,[42] +with its skittle-shaped roof, towered up like an enchanted castle from +the Thousand and One Nights, and on the ruins of the temple of Vesta the +pagan forefathers of the Magyars built altars under the open sky, where +they worshipped the sun, the stars, and a naked sword. Then the town was +called Gyula-Fehervr.[43] + + [Footnote 42: _Gyula_ = Julius. The heathen Prince of + Transylvania at the end of the tenth century.] + + [Footnote 43: _Gyula-Fehervr._ White Julius' town.] + +A century passed, and Stephen, saint and king, cast down the altars of +the fire-worshippers, and built a vast church on the spot where so many +false gods had been adored. The sun-worshippers disappeared, and the +Christian world called the church after the name of the Archangel +Michael. + +What sort of church was it?--Nobody can now tell! Two centuries later +the Tartars came, levelled town and church with the ground, and put the +population to the sword. On their departure they gave to the town the +scornful nickname Nigra-Julia.[44] + + [Footnote 44: _Nigra Julia._ Black Julia.] + +Our nation's greatest man, John Hunniady, rebuilt it. Traces of his huge +Gothic arches may still be found there. In the crypt, built at the same +time, all the Princes of Transylvania were buried in richly-carved +sarcophagi. Here _rested_ Hunniady himself and his headless son +Ladislaus.[45] They _rested_ here, but only for a time. Robber-hordes +came and scattered the sacred relics, and devastated the church, and the +succeeding princes who patched it up again during the Turkish dominion, +added to the Gothic groundwork the peculiarities of Arab architecture, +serpentine columns, and Moorish arabesques. + + [Footnote 45: _Ladislaus Hunniady._ The eldest son of + the great hero, treacherously beheaded in 1456.] + +And last of all came the renovations and restorations of modern +times--four-cornered towers, with little low windows and shapeless +portals. The arabesques were all white-washed, and where here and there +the mortar falls from the walls, you may catch a glimpse of the stones +with which the church was originally built, relics of every age which +has visited the place and vanished tracklessly. Here sculptured +fragments of the old Mythra cultus; there mutilated Vestals. Below, the +top of an ancient altar with the broken symbol of a sun upon it; above, +florid and fantastic arabesques. + +And again the town lost its name. + +They call it now Karoly-Fehervr.[46] + + [Footnote 46: _Karoly-Fehervr._ White Charles' town. + German: Karlsburg.] + + * * * * * + +At the time in which our story is laid, this town was the place where +the Princes of Transylvania used to be consecrated and the Diets to be +held. Where the episcopal palace now stands stood then the Prince's +residence, restored by John Sigismund,[47] with marble inlaid chambers, +and walls covered with battle-pieces in fresco. The great hall where the +Diet met was separated from the surrounding chambers by a balustrade of +tinted marble. Round about the walls hung the busts of princes and +woywodes interspersed with trophies. In front stood the throne covered +with purple, and round about it a triumphal baldachin made of banners, +shields, and morning-stars. + + [Footnote 47: John Sigismund Zapolya (1540-1571), with + whom the line of the Transylvanian princes began.] + +The rest of the town was scarcely in keeping with the pomp of the +Prince's residence, for in 1618 the Diet had been obliged to command the +inhabitants to cease dwelling in tents, and build up their ruinous +houses again. + + * * * * * + +The Estates of the Realm have already assembled. Every one is in his +place. Only the seat of the Prince is still vacant. + +There they sit in order of precedence--the Transylvanian patricians, the +heads of the Hungarian nobility, the most eminent in wit, wealth, and +valour--the Bethlens, the Csakys, the Lazars, the Kemenys, the Mikeses, +the Banfis!--those medival clans whose will is the nation's, whose +deeds form its history, whose ancestors, grandfathers and fathers, have +either perished on the battle-field in defence of their princes, or on +the scaffold for defying them. And their descendants loyally follow +their examples. A new prince comes to the throne, and they take up again +the swords which have fallen from their fathers' hands--to wield it for +or against him, as Fate may decree. + +The Szekler deputies with their homely garb and sullen, dogged faces, +and the Saxon burghers with their simple, round, red countenances, and +their primeval German costume, form a striking contrast to the dashing +and resplendent Hungarian magnates. + +The mob assembled in the galleries and behind the barrier presents a +most motley picture. Many amongst it can be seen pointing out the +celebrities to their neighbours, or shaking their fists at the deputies +they dislike. + +At last a flourish of trumpets announces that the Prince has arrived. +The pages throw open the doors. The crowd shouts "Eljen!" His Highness +appears surrounded by his court. + +Denis Banfi, as Marshal of the Diet, leads the way, with the national +standard in his right hand. Beside him is Paul Beldi of Uzoni, who, as +Captain-General of the Szeklers, bears the mace. Behind them comes the +Prime Minister, Master Michael Teleki, bringing with him in a silken +case the Imperial _athname_: all three gentlemen are in gorgeous robes +of state. In the midst walks the Prince himself, in a magnificent green +velvet kaftan and an ermine embroidered hat: he holds the sceptre in his +hand. Around and behind him throng the foreign ambassadors, foremost +among whom stand the Sultan's envoy in a robe sparkling with diamonds; +Forval, the Minister of Louis XIV., a sleek, courtly man, with silken +ribbons in his dolman, gold lace on his hat, and a richly-embossed +sword-scabbard; his colleague, the Abb Reverend, with a smiling +countenance, his lilac surplice fastened by a purple sash; and +Sobieski's minister, wearing a _bekesch_ with divided sleeves, which so +closely resembles the Magyar costume. + +All these dignitaries now take their places. The ambassadors remain +behind the Prince's throne; and while the long and tedious protocols of +the last Diet are being read, many of them engage in conversation with +the lords behind the barrier. + +Among these latter we perceive Nicholas Bethlen, the young Transylvanian +whose acquaintance we made a long time ago in Zrinyi's hunting suite. He +is now a vivacious and sensible young man, having spent his youth in +travelling through all the civilized countries of Europe, cultivating +the acquaintance of their most famous men, and even of their princes, +and appropriating the progressive ideas of the age, without losing +anything of his national peculiarities. The French themselves tell us +that it was he who first acquainted them with the hussar's uniform, and +that the dolman he wore at Versailles served Louis XIV. as a pattern for +equipping his first Hussar regiments. + +When Bethlen caught sight of Forval, whom he had learnt to know in +Paris, he hastened to his side and greeted him heartily. + +"You'll lose the thread of the discussion," said Forval, hearing that +something was being read, but not knowing what. + +"So far, they can get on without me. The bills now before the house +merely regulate how many dishes should be set before servants; or +discuss the best method of compelling poor people to grow rich enough to +pay more taxes. When the real business of the day begins you will find +me also in my place." + +"Then tell me in the meantime who are the capable men here, and who are +not. You know everything about Transylvania." Forval had only just +arrived there. + +"Such a classification is by no means an easy one," returned Bethlen. +"Formerly, when I was a party man myself, and had seen no country but my +own, I was quite convinced that all the members of my own party were +honest men, and all its opponents scoundrels without exception; but now +that I have severed party ties, and seen a little of the world, I begin +to perceive that a man may be a good patriot, an honest man, a valiant +warrior, or the reverse, whether he belongs to the Right or the Left. +Everything depends on the point of view you take. However, as you desire +it, I will give you my own views of the state of parties, you can then +draw your own conclusions. That proud man on the right of the Prince is +Denis Banfi; the one on the left is Paul Beldi. They are the two most +eminent men in the land, and both are determined opponents of the war it +is proposed to commence; in all else they are adversaries, but on this +one point they are inseparable. Banfi seems to be in league with the +Emperor, Beldi with the Turk. In their opinion Transylvania is strong +enough to drive back every invader of her territories, but not strong +enough to play the invader herself. Now cast a glance at that baldish +man on the left of the Prince. That is Michael Teleki. 'Tis the genius +of that man which alone keeps the other two in check. He is a near +relative of the Princess, and would renew here the war which has been +the ruin of the national party in Hungary. The trial of strength between +those three men will be an interesting spectacle." + +"And if the peace party should prevail?" + +"Then the nation will have declared for peace." + +"And the Prince cannot go against it?" + +"Here, my friend, we are not at the Court of Versailles, where a Prince +may venture to say, '_L'tat--c'est moi!_' Each of those three men has +as much authority here as the Prince, and their authority is one with +his. But let him only try to act against the will of the nation, and he +will soon become aware that he stands alone. So, again, those great +nobles would remain isolated if they undertook anything in opposition to +the Diet." + +"Be candid now. Do you think the war party will prevail?" + +"Scarcely this time. I do not yet see the man who can bring a war about. +Amongst the whole Hungarian party there is no one fit to become the +ideal of a martial nation. Zrinyi has perished. Rakoczi has deserted it. +Teleki knows how to overthrow but not how to create parties. Besides, he +is no warrior, and it is a warrior that they want. He represents cold +reason, and here there is need of a soul of fire. He has no _mission_ to +fight for Hungary, but only a political interest. One of the Hungarian +magnates, that moustacheless youth yonder, Emerich Tkli, has lately +sued for his daughter's hand in order to engage the father in his +interests. Mark my words. That young man has a career before him. His +one idea is power--and Fortune is fickle, and her instruments are many." + +This cold consultation was somewhat distasteful to Forval. Meanwhile the +tiresome recitation of the protocols had come to an end, and Bethlen +took his seat. + +The Prince very sulkily informed the Estates that the reason he had +summoned them would now be explained to them by Master Michael Teleki; +then, wrapping himself in his kaftan, he leaned negligently back in the +depths of his huge arm-chair. + +Teleki stood up, waited until the applause of the crowd had subsided, +then, casting a calm look upon Banfi, thus began-- + +"Worshipful and valiant Orders and Estates! The recent events in Hungary +are well known to you all, and if you did not know them, you need only +cast a glance around you, and the sad, despairing faces with which your +assembly has been augmented would tell their own tale. These are our +unfortunate Hungarian brethren, once the flower of the nation, now its +withered leaves, which the storm has scattered far and wide. You have +not denied your kinsmen in their adversity; you have shared hearth and +home with them; you have mingled your tears with theirs. But oh! they +have not turned to us for the bread of charity, or for womanly +lamentations. Thou, Bocskai,[48] thou, Bethlen,[49] whose images now +look down upon us from these walls with dumb reproaches; whose +victorious, dust-stained banners wave around the throne, why can you not +rise up again in our midst to seize those banners, and thunder in the +ears of an irresolute generation--The banished beg of you a country, the +houseless a home?" + + [Footnote 48: Stephan Bocskai, Prince of Transylvania, + 1605-1606. A great statesman and warrior.] + + [Footnote 49: Gabriel Bethlen, the wisest of all the + Transylvanian princes. He reigned 1601-1629.] + +Here Teleki paused as if awaiting applause, but every one remained +perfectly silent; mere rhetoric did not affect that Assembly in the +least. Teleki saw his mistake, and instantly changed his tactics. + +"You reply to my words by silence. Am I to take it that _qui tacet, +negat_? I'll never believe that your hearts are too cold to be fired. +You only hesitate because you would count up your forces. But let me +tell you that we shall not take the field alone. The sight of our +despoiled churches and our enslaved clergy has called all the Protestant +princes of Europe to arms. Even the Belgian King, whom our fate concerns +least of all, has rescued our brethren in the faith from the Neapolitan +galleys; nor has the sword of Gustavus Adolphus grown rusty in its +sheath. Nay, more, even the most Catholic of princes, even the followers +of Mahommed, are ready to assist our cause. Behold the King of France, +at this moment the mightiest ruler in Europe, raising troops for us, not +only in his own land, but in Poland also; and, if necessary, the Sultan +certainly will not scruple to break a peace that was forced upon him; or +he will, at the very least, place his frontier troops at our disposal. +And when all around us we hear the din of battle, when every one grasps +the sword, shall we alone leave ours in its scabbard, we who owe so much +to our brethren and to ourselves? What happened to them yesterday may +happen to us to-morrow, and what country will then offer us a refuge? +Therefore, my fellow-patriots, hearken to the prayers of the banished as +if you stood in their places; for I tell you, that a time may come when +you will be as they are now; and as you treat them now, so will Destiny +treat you then!" + +Teleki had done. He fixed his eyes on Denis Banfi as if he knew +beforehand that he would be the first to reply to him. + +Banfi arose. It was plain that he was making a great effort to keep +within bounds and speak dispassionately. + +"My noble colleagues!" he began, in an unusually calm voice. "Compassion +towards unfortunate kinsmen and hatred of ancient foes are sentiments +which become a man; but in politics there is no room for sentiment. In +this place we are neither kinsmen, nor friends, nor yet foes; we are +simply and solely patriots, whose first duty it is to coolly calculate, +for, to say nothing of the joy or grief resulting from it, the fate of a +whole land depends upon the issue of our deliberations. Now the question +before us is really this: Are we to stake the existence of Transylvania +for the sake of Hungary? Are we to shed our blood for the sake of +raising her from the dead? Listen not to your hearts, they can only +feel--'tis the head that thinks. Just now there is peace in +Transylvania. The people are beginning to be happy; the towns are rising +from their ashes; the mourning weeds are gradually being laid aside, and +ears of corn are ripening on fields of blood. At present the Magyar is +his own master in Transylvania. No stranger, no adversary, no protector +exacts tribute from him. None may interfere in our deliberations. The +neighbouring powers are obliged to protect us, and we are not obliged to +do them homage for it. Reflect well upon all this ere you stake +everything on one cast of the die! Would you again see all Transylvania +turned into a huge battle-field, and your vassals transformed into an +army, perhaps not even a victorious army? And even if our hosts were +sufficient, who is there to lead them? None of us has inherited the +genius of a Bethlen or of a Bocskai; neither I, nor Master Teleki. And +then again, whom can we trust besides ourselves? The capricious Louis +XIV. perhaps? His policy can be changed every moment by a pair of bright +eyes. If we depended only on him, a petty Versailles intrigue might +leave us in the lurch when we most required assistance." + +Here Forval coughed to conceal his annoyance. + +"As for Sobieski," continued Banfi, "depend upon it he will not attack +his present ally the Emperor for our sweet sakes; nor will the Sultan +break his oath as lightly as Master Michael Teleki seems to imagine. +What then remains for us to do? Call the nomadic Tartars into Hungary, I +suppose! The poor Hungarian population would certainly express their +gratitude for such assistance as that! Your ideal Hungarian, Nicolas +Zrinyi, used to tell a tale which deserves to be handed down to our +latest posterity. The devil was carrying a Szekler away on his back. The +Szekler's neighbour met and thus accosted him: 'Whither away, gossip?' +'I am being carried to hell,' said he. 'Eh! but that is a very bad job,' +returned the other. 'Yes, but it might be much worse,' replied the +rogue. 'Just fancy if he were to sit on my back, dig his spurs into me, +and compel me to carry him instead!'--Let every one apply this fable as +he thinks best. For my part, I cannot quite decide which I fear the +most, the enmity of the Emperor or the amity of the Sultan. For, tell +me, what will be the end of this war? If we conquer with the aid of the +Sultan, Transylvania will become a Turkish Pachalic; if we are +conquered, we shall sink into an Austrian province, while now we are a +free and independent State by the grace of God! In any case Hungary's +fate is bound to improve, and that fate touches my heart quite as much +as theirs who fancy they can heal the sick man with the sword. But +nothing is to be won in that way. How much blood has not already been +shed without the slightest result? Let us try some other way. Surely the +Magyar has sense enough to subdue by his intellectual superiority those +whom he cannot overcome by force of arms? Subdue your conquerors, I say. +You who are second to none in sense, energy, wealth, and the beauty of +manliness, why do you not take the highest posts which belong to you of +right? If you were to sit where the Pzmns[50] and the Esterhazys[51] +have sat, there would be no room left for a Lobkovich.[52] If instead of +fighting petty, fruitless battles now and then, you were to use your +intellects and your influence, you might make your land happy without +costing her a drop of blood. It rests with you to restore once more the +age of Louis the Great,[53] that foreign prince who became enamoured of +his adopted people, turned Magyar, and made the nation as great and as +powerful as the nation made him. The Estates of Transylvania will +undertake to mediate between Hungary and the Emperor, and so get you +back your privileges and your possessions. I will be the first to +stretch out a helping hand, and assuredly Master Michael Teleki will be +the second. If, however, you do not accept this offer, then, I say, +beware of what you do. As to the prophecy--Our turn to-day, yours +to-morrow! I'll only say, Fear nothing for Transylvania. I'll be bold to +say, that whoever invades her by force of arms, will always find a host +of equal strength ready to meet him; but let me tell you, that that same +host will never be so foolhardy as to invade a foreign land." + + [Footnote 50: Cardinal Peter Pzmn (1570-1637), a + famous Hungarian patriot and statesman.] + + [Footnote 51: The celebrated Nicholas Esterhazy of + Galanta, Palatine of Hungary.] + + [Footnote 52: Lobkovich (Eusebius Vincent), Leopold + I.'s prime minister (1670-73), who attempted to make + the Emperor absolute in Hungary.] + + [Footnote 53: Louis the Great, King of Hungary, + 1342-1381.] + +"Then Hungary is to you a foreign land?" cried a mocking voice from the +crowd. + +This interruption was too much for Banfi's composure. He turned +furiously towards the quarter whence the question came, and meeting the +cold, contemptuous looks of the Hungarians assembled there, he quite +forgot himself; everything around him seemed to be in a whirl, and +dashing his kalpag to the ground, he cried-- + +"Right, right--indeed! A foreign land--nay more, a stepmother you have +always been to us. We have always had to suffer for your sins. We have +won victories, and you have frittered away the fruits of our victories. +Your discords have thrice brought Hungary low, and thrice have we raised +her from the dust. We have given you heroes; you have given us +traitors!" + +These last words Banfi was obliged to roar out at the top of his voice +to make himself heard above the ever-increasing din. The uproar was +general. Every one tried to shout down his neighbour. The Hungarian +gentlemen sprang from their seats and reviled Banfi. The graver members +of the peace party shook their heads when they saw how Banfi's +indiscretion had let loose the passions of the Assembly. + +Beldi now arose. All lovers of order cried at once--"Let us hear Beldi!" + +Then a young man suddenly leaped over the barrier, and placing his hand +on Teleki's arm-chair, planted himself in front of Banfi with a flushed +and defiant face. It was Emerich Tkli. + +"I too have got a word to say," cried he, in a voice audible above the +tumult. "I also have the right to say a word or two within this barrier. +If you will deny your mother, Hungary, and draw boundaries between her +and you, it is time for me to speak. I am just as good a territorial +noble here in Transylvania as that proud and petty demigod, whose father +before him was just such another reviler of his mother country!" + +Beldi was making his way towards Tkli to stop him from speaking, when +some one from behind seized his hand, and turning round, he was +astonished to see his own son-in-law, Paul Wesselenyi, who begged him to +step outside for a moment. + +Beldi retired into the lobby, while Tkli's voice thundered through the +hall above the never-ending din. + +A veiled lady awaited Beldi in the lobby, whom, when she had unveiled +her face, he had some difficulty in recognizing as his daughter Sophia, +so much had grief and care changed and broken her. Her beautiful eyes +were red with weeping. + +"We are homeless fugitives," sobbed Sophia, sinking on her father's +breast. "They have taken from us our Hungarian possessions; my husband +has been driven from his castle, and a price set on his head." + +Beldi became very serious. This unexpected ill-tidings pricked him to +the heart. Within, Tkli's thundering voice was raising a perfect +tempest of indignation, but Beldi no longer made haste back to quell it. + +"Remain with me," said he, with a troubled countenance; "here you can +dwell in peace till things improve." + +"Too late!" said Wesselenyi. "I have already enlisted under the flag of +the French General, Count Boham, as a common soldier." + +"You a common soldier! You, the descendant of the Palatine Wesselenyi! +And what in the meantime is to become of my daughter?" + +"She will remain behind with you--till Hungary has been won back again!" +and with these words he placed his wife in Beldi's arms, kissed her on +the forehead, and departed with dry eyes. + +Within raged the tumult. Beldi heard his daughter sobbing, and a bitter +feeling began to fill his breast, a feeling not unlike a nascent desire +of vengeance. He felt almost pleased that war was being demanded within +there; and he, the leader of the peace party, was also just about to +draw his sword, rush into the Diet, and exclaim--"War! war! and +retribution!" when the pages led into the lobby an old man as pale as +death, who, recognizing Beldi, staggered up to him and addressed him in +a trembling voice-- + +"My lord, are you not the Captain-General of the Szeklers, Paul Beldi of +Uzoni?" + +"Yes. What do you want with me?" + +"I am the last inhabitant of Benfalva!" stammered the dying man. "War, +famine, and pestilence have carried off all the others. I alone remain, +and feeling that I too am on the point of death, I have brought you the +official seal of the place and the church bell. Give them to the Diet. +Preserve them in the archives, and write over them--'These are the bell +and the seal of what was once Benfalva, the inhabitants of which utterly +perished.'" + +Beldi's nerveless arm dropped the hilt of his sword, and he tore himself +from his daughter's embrace. + +"Go to your mother at Bodola, and learn to bear your fate with a stout +heart!" + +Then he took the seal and the bell from the dying man, and hastened back +to the hall of the Diet, where Tkli had just finished his speech, +which had produced a terrible effect on the Assembly. The French +ministers were shaking hands with him. + +Beldi stepped up to the president's table, and placed upon it the seal +which had just been handed to him. + +Every one looked at him, and seeing that he was about to speak, became +silent. + +"Look!" cried he, with a voice broken by emotion. "A desolated town +sends its official seal to the Diet by its last inhabitant. There are +already enough of such towns in Transylvania, and in time there may be +more. War and famine have wasted the fairest portions of our land. You +should not forget, gentlemen, to place this seal among your +other--trophies!" + +At these last words Beldi's voice sank almost to a whisper, yet so deep +was the silence, that he was heard distinctly in every part of the hall. +A thrill of horror passed through every one present. + +"Outside that door I hear some one weeping," continued Beldi, with +quivering lips. "It is my own dear daughter, the wife of Paul +Wesselenyi, who, driven from her fatherland, on her knees implored me, +as I loved her, to let the _lex talionis_ assert its rights. But I say, +let my child weep, let her perish, may I also perish with my whole +family if need be, but let not the curse of war fall on Transylvania! +May no one in Transylvania have cause to weep because I suffer. No! I +would declare against war though every one here present were for it.... +Gentlemen!... this seal ... and the other relic too ... forget not to +preserve them among your trophies!" + +Beldi sat down. Long after his words had ceased to sound, a death-like +silence continued to prevail. + +Teleki, ascribing this silence to indignation against Beldi, very +confidently arose, and bade the Estates give their votes. But for once +he had wrongly felt the pulse of public opinion, for the majority of +the Diet, deeply touched by the foregoing scene, voted for peace. So +great was still the influence of Banfi and Beldi in the land. + +Teleki looked with some confusion at his future son-in-law, who clenched +his fists, and murmured bitterly with tears in his eyes-- + +"Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo!" + + * * * * * + +As the Assembly broke up, Forval and Nicholas Bethlen again met +together. + +"So our hope that Transylvania will take up arms has been dashed," +observed the crestfallen Frenchman. + +"On the contrary, our hope only now begins," returned Bethlen, tapping +his friend on the shoulder. "Did you hear that young man Tkli speak?" + +"Yes; he spoke very prettily." + +"Prettily or not, it strikes me that he is just the man you seek." + +"A King of Hungary, eh?"[54] + + [Footnote 54: Tkli (Emerich), the most extraordinary + Hungarian of his day, famous for his marvellous courage + and beauty, his adventures and vicissitudes. In 1682 + the Turks proclaimed him Prince of Hungary, and for the + next five years he disputed possession of that country + with the Emperor. After being twice thrown in prison by + the Sultan, he was released and proclaimed Prince of + Transylvania, but, after many successes, was finally + obliged to fly to Turkey. He was excluded by name from + the general amnesty at the Peace of Lovicz, 1697, + between the Turks and the Emperor; but the Sultan made + him Count of Widdin and one of his chief counsellors. + He died in 1705 at Nicomedia in Bithynia. He married + Helen Zrinyi, who accompanied him everywhere with + heroic fidelity.] + +"Either that or an outlaw. Fate will decide." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE JUS LIGATUM.[55] + + + [Footnote 55: _Jus ligatum._ The right of conspiring + secretly against an offender unreachable by the + ordinary law.] + +'Tis a good old custom which requires that every ceremony should end +with a feast, and so the boisterous Diet was succeeded by a still more +boisterous banquet, whereat Michael Apafi also presided; and here he was +in his proper place, for the chronicles tell us that a skin of wine at a +sitting was a mere nothing to his Highness. + +Wine inflames hate as well as love. When ladies are at table, we must +look to our hearts; but when only men sit down together, our heads are +often in danger. + +After dinner, according to Transylvanian custom, the guests stood up to +drink. Conversation flows more easily thus, and the Prince, going the +round of his guests, presented to them an overflowing beaker with his +own hand, challenging them one by one to drain it--"Come, a toast--my +health, the welfare of the realm, and whatever else you like!" + +The gentlemen were in high good-humour, and kept falling out with each +other and making it up again from sheer lightness of heart. Only one man +was quite sober--Michael Teleki, who never drank at all. + +Beware of the man who keeps sober while every one else is in his cups. + +Teleki went about among the wrangling roysterers, and lingered for a +long time round Banfi's chair. When the magnate caught sight of him, +creeping about like a cat, he turned sharply round upon him. + +"Why, how sad you look!" he cried, with a mocking laugh; "just like a +man whose coveted palatinate falls into the dust before his eyes." + +That was all Teleki wanted. + +With a smile, beneath which there lurked a deadly sting, he replied-- + +"That is no merit of yours. If Paul Beldi had not been present, you +would have been left all alone with your vote. But I must confess that +we all bow before such a distinguished man as Paul Beldi. The whole +nation cries Amen! to whatever he says." + +Teleki then bowed low, with a semblance of deep respect, well aware that +he had sent a venomous shaft into the proud magnate's heart, for nothing +wounded Banfi so much as to see some one honoured above himself, +especially some one who really deserved it. + +Teleki next turned to Beldi, drew him into a window-niche, and thus +began in his suavest manner-- + +"I had always held your Excellency for a very magnanimous man, but +to-day I learnt to recognize you as doubly such, though it was to my own +detriment. The Diet only knows that in voting for peace you sacrificed +your fatherly affection; but _I_ know that at the same time you +sacrificed your hatred of Banfi." + +"I?--I have never hated Banfi." + +"I know why you conceal your hatred. You fancy that no one knows your +secret reasons for it. My friend, we men know well that a sword-thrust +may be forgiven, but a _kiss_ never." + +Beldi started. He knew not what reply to make to this man, who, after +planting the sting of jealousy in his heart, quitted him with a smiling +countenance, leaving the wound to rankle. + +At that moment Banfi appeared behind Beldi's back with his haughtiest +air. He was burning to make Beldi feel his haughtiness, and was thinking +how he could best pick a quarrel with him. + +Beldi at first did not perceive him, and when the Prince, chancing to +stray into that part of the room, holding a costly pocal set with +turquoises, which he affably extended, saying familiarly--"Drink, my +cousin!" Beldi, fancying that the invitation was meant for him, and +never suspecting that any one was behind him, took the cup out of the +Prince's hand, and drained it to his Highness's health, at the very +moment when Banfi also held out his hand towards it. + +Banfi, purple with rage, turned furiously upon Beldi, and said in his +most insulting tone-- + +"Not so fast, Szekler. You might, I think, have a little more respect +for the Marshal of the Diet, and not snatch away the cup from beneath my +very nose. Let me tell you, sir, that if you persist in such courses, +you and I shall fall out!" + +Beldi was anything but a quarrelsome man. Had he been in another frame +of mind, he would simply have apologized for his mistake. But now he too +was in a pugnacious mood, so, calmly measuring Banfi from head to foot, +he replied with suppressed rage-- + +"Yes, Denis, I am a Szekler, as you say, and a tough one too; and if it +came to a bout between us, and I fell uppermost, I'd give you such a +squeeze that you'd never raise your head again in this world." + +"Come, come! What's all this nonsense about?" cried the Prince, +intervening. "I'm surprised at you, gentlemen! _Inter pocula non sunt +seria tractanda._" And, with that, Apafi compelled the two magnates to +shake hands with each other, and then passed on, thinking that the whole +affair was a mere drunken brawl, and that he had put it right. + +But it did not escape Teleki that, immediately after this scene, both +the magnates quitted the room, and he learnt soon afterwards that they +had suddenly left Fehervr, thus leaving the field clear for him. + +Teleki and his satellites remained alone with the half-besotted Prince. + +"Drink, gentlemen! drink! be merry!" cried Apafi. "Don't drop off one by +one! Who last went out there?" + +"Beldi!" cried several voices. + +"Ah, I understand! The poor fellow has not seen his wife for a long +time. Let him go. And who else has gone?" + +"Banfi!" + +"What? Banfi too? What's the meaning of that?" + +"He has gone to lord it at home?" sneered Szekely, one of Teleki's +creatures. + +"He can't endure to be anywhere where there is a greater than he," put +in Nalaczi. + +"I certainly shall not resign the princely diadem to please his +Excellency!" cried Apafi. + +"That is not necessary!" insinuated Teleki. "He knows how to rule in +Transylvania without an _athname_. When he commands the country must +obey, and what the country commands he contemptuously rejects." + +"I should like to see him do it!" murmured Apafi angrily. + +"But is it not so? We want war, he doesn't, and we must give way. We +want peace, and he is immediately up and waging war against our allies +on his own account. The throne is ours, the realm is his!" + +"Don't say that, Master Michael Teleki!" + +"I appeal to you, Nalaczi! What answer did he give in the Zolyomi +affair?" + +"He said that if the country wished him to surrender the Gyulai property +to Zolyomi, it must give him in exchange the domain of Szamos-Ujvar." + +"What!" cried the Prince, "the property which the Estates gave to me for +my maintenance! My princely domains! The man must be mad!" + +"So he said, adding that he would not surrender the property even if +Zolyomi saddled us with the Turks in consequence." + +"Well, now we've had enough of him. Not a word more about it, +gentlemen." + +"The insult to the Turks your Highness might overlook," persisted +Teleki, "but we really cannot look through our fingers any longer at the +way in which he treats the gentry. The latest victim of his tyranny is +Lady Saint Pauli. The poor widow's ancestral dwelling was an eyesore to +the great lord, because it spoiled the prospect from his palace windows; +so he had the house appraised at his own valuation, and turned the poor +lady out of doors. The magistrate gave her a letter of indemnity, but my +Lord-Marshal tore the letter to pieces, and pulled down the poor widow's +sole possession, her ancestral dwelling-place. The Diet, he said, might +build it up again if it felt so disposed. Such an act, sir, in ordinary +times has been known to cost the doer thereof his head!" + +Apafi was silent, but his bloodshot eyes began to glow savagely. + +"But that is not all," continued Teleki; "outrages on individuals are of +small account when the security of the whole realm is at stake. This +great lord can speak very prettily about the blessings of peace, let us +see now how he labours to uphold it. He takes the sword out of our hands +and closes our mouths, while he himself collects an army and goads the +Turk against us, well knowing that we have no money wherewith to buy the +gifts necessary to counteract his vagaries. Now, three letters have +reached us simultaneously--one from the Pasha of Grosswardein, another +from the Pasha of Buda, and a third from the Sultan himself--demanding +instant satisfaction, or an indemnity of three hundred purses of gold, +for the defeat which the Pasha of Grosswardein has suffered at Banfi's +hands. As, however, we cannot expect Banfi to pay the indemnity, will it +please your Highness to consider from whence such a large sum of money +is to be procured?" + +"From nowhither!" cried Apafi furiously, smashing his glass to pieces on +the table. "I'll show the world that I'm able to exact satisfaction from +whomsoever I will, let him be even as mighty again as Denis Banfi." + +"Then I wish your Highness would tell us how, for we know that Banfi +will not appear to our summons, and we cannot compel him, for he has +shown himself stronger than the whole realm. If we attempted to use +force he would call out the banderia and the garrison troops, and then +it might fare with us as it fared with Ladislaus Csaky--he would arrest +the officers sent to arrest him, and expose us to universal derision." + +"As our first counsellor, it is your province to give us good counsel in +such cases," cried Apafi wrathfully. + +"I only know of one remedy capable of curing the realm thoroughly of +this disease." + +"Then prescribe it. In what does your remedy consist?" + +"In the _jus ligatum_." + +Apafi, despite his semi-besotted state, instinctively shrunk back from +such an expedient, and throwing himself into his arm-chair, looked +blankly at Teleki. + +"Are you not ashamed of yourself," he murmured in broken sentences, as +tipsy people usually do, "to propose a secret conspiracy against a free +nobleman? To privily conspire against him is contrary to the law of the +land." + +"It is not my fault if the expedient is shameful," returned Teleki +calmly and steadfastly; "but it is shameful that the law should not +possess sufficient power to bring a rebel to book, and that one of our +own subjects should be able to openly defy justice and laugh at the +decrees of the Prince. If in such a state of things the _jus ligatum_ is +our only means of defence, the shame falls not upon me but upon the +Prince." + +Apafi rose angrily from his seat and paced to and fro. The lords +remained perfectly silent. + +At last the Prince stopped short in front of Teleki, and, leaning on the +back of his arm-chair, asked him-- + +"And how then do you propose to bring about this league?" + +Nalaczi and Szekely exchanged a smile. It was plain that the idea had +caught the Prince's fancy. Teleki beckoned to Szekely to fetch him +writing materials and a strip of parchment. + +"We will quickly draw up the necessary articles of impeachment; your +Highness will subscribe them, and we'll secretly persuade the great men +of the land to consent to Banfi's arrest and join the league before any +legal steps have been taken." + +At these words many of the gentlemen present began to bite their +moustaches and move uneasily in their chairs. + +Teleki observed the movement, and added emphatically-- + +"I perceive that no one here has the courage to put down his name first +on the list. Nevertheless I have already found a man, who in dignity and +power is every whit Banfi's equal, and when once he has subscribed the +list, the other signatures will follow as a matter of course." + +"And who may that be?" asked Apafi. + +"Paul Beldi!" + +The Prince shook his head. + +"He won't do it. He is much too honourable a man for that." + +Wine-inspired as this sentence was, it completely ruffled Teleki's +equanimity. Turning vehemently upon the Prince he cried-- + +"Then you mean to imply that _we_ are acting dishonourably?" + +"I meant to say that Beldi is never very willing to pick a quarrel with +anybody. He is a peace-abiding man." + +"But I know his sore point, and if you but touch it with the tip of your +finger, he'll answer with his clenched fist, and the lamb will become a +lion. I'll get him to----" + +At that moment the door opened, and, to every one's astonishment, the +Princess entered the room. + +Nevertheless, her appearance at this time was no freak of chance. You +could see by her agitation that she was well aware of what was going on. +The lords were confused, and Apafi, despite his tipsy wrath, became so +frightened when he beheld the pale face of his consort that he whispered +to Teleki-- + +"For heaven's sake put that document out of sight." + +Only Teleki kept his countenance, and instead of hiding the parchment, +ostentatiously spread it out before him. + +"What are you doing?" asked the Princess. She was very pale, and her +bosom heaved tempestuously. + +"We are holding a council," replied Teleki grimly. + +"A council?" repeated Anna, approaching nearer and nearer to the table. + +"Yes; and we venture to ask your Highness by what right you intrude +here, while we are deliberating over the most momentous affairs of +state?" continued Teleki in a hard, dry tone. + +"Deliberating over the most momentous affairs of state, eh?" repeated +the lady, measuring Teleki with a searching look. Then with a loud, +vibrating voice she exclaimed--"What mean these wine-cups then? You are +holding a council of state when the head of the state is drunk, that you +may sow discord and confusion." + +Teleki sprang from his seat and turned towards the Prince-- + +"May it please your Highness to dismiss us. We perceive that a domestic +scene is about to begin." + +"Anna!" cried Apafi, scarlet with shame and wine, "leave the room this +instant. We command it--and for a week to come do not presume to appear +in our presence." + +"Be it so, Apafi. I have nothing more to say to you, for you are not +yourself; but to you, Mr. Chief-Counsellor, to you who are always sober, +I have a word to say. I raised you from the dust; I helped you into the +place where now you stand; you requite me by thrusting yourself between +me and the Prince's heart, for I find you in my way every time I +approach my husband. You have taken the sceptre out of the Prince's +hand, and have substituted for it the headsman's sword; but let me tell +you that if I cannot reach the Prince's heart, I can, at least, step in +the way of the sword, and as often as it descends, you will find me +between the stroke and the victim!--And ye! Nalaczi and Szekely, +ennobled lackeys as you are, who cannot explain to yourselves how you +became great lords, reflect that the wheel of Fortune debases as often +as it exalts, and that as you treat others to-day so may others treat +you to-morrow. And I say to you all, ye noble cavaliers, who seek your +courage in your cups, bethink you and tremble at the thought, that not +wine but innocent blood is foaming in the beakers that you hold in your +hands! Shame, shame upon you all! who give wine to the Prince in order +to ask blood of him. And now your Highness may add a couple of weeks to +my term of banishment." + +With these words, the Princess rapidly left the room. The lords were +dumb, and dared not look at each other. But Teleki got up, closed the +door, dipped his pen in the inkhorn, and said-- + +"And now we will go on where we left off." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +DEATH FOR A KISS. + + +Paul Beldi went straight from Fehervr to Bodola: all the way he was +tortured by the thought which Teleki's words had revived. + +In itself, a kiss is a very harmless thing. But what if another knows of +it or has perceived it? Then indeed it becomes the pole of our +suspicion, round which the mind weaves a whole pandemonium of doubts and +guesses. We begin to think what might have led up to it, and what it may +lead to. And in this case another did know of it. The husband had +reasoned with himself: a kiss of which nobody knows anything makes no +rent in a wife's virtue--and behold! it is in every one's mouth already. +And perhaps they don't stop there. Perhaps while he, fond fool! imagined +his honour in safe keeping, the world with a loud Ha, ha! has long been +dragging it through the mire, and his ear is the very last to catch the +insulting laugh. And that his mortal foe, too, should be at the bottom +of it! + +Night had fallen. The horses were tired out. Beldi had nowhere given +them rest, nowhere changed them for fresh ones. He wanted to get home as +quickly as possible. He wanted to meet face to face the woman who had so +disgraced him, heaven only knew how much! But why be content to see a +woman weep or die, when there was a man on whom vengeance could be +taken? A man who had ever been his foe, from the time when they had been +pages together at Prince Gabriel Bethlen's court, and had now fastened +on the most sensitive spot in his heart and ruthlessly torn it. + +"Turn back," he cried to the coachman, "and go in the direction of +Klausenburg." + +The old servant shook his head; turned into a side-path, and so +completely lost himself in the darkness of the night, that he was forced +to confess to his master that he really did not know where he was. + +Beldi's rage and impatience knew no bounds. Looking about him, he +perceived a small light burning at no great distance, and sulkily bade +his coachman drive in that direction. + +It was into the courtyard of a lonely country-house that they rolled at +last, and Beldi recognized in the master of the house, who appeared at +the barking of the large watch-dogs, old Adam Gyergyai, one of his +dearest friends, who, when he saw Beldi, rushed into his arms, and was +beside himself with joy. + +"God be with you!" said the good old man, covering his guest with +kisses. "I will not ask what piece of good fortune has brought you to +me." + +"To tell the truth, I've lost my way. I was on the road to Klausenburg. +I must get there to-night; but I'll rest my horses here for an hour or +two if you'll let me." + +"What pressing business is this you have on hand?" + +"I must deliver a message," replied Beldi evasively. + +"If that be all, why so much hurry? Write it down, and one of my mounted +servants shall immediately take it to its destination while you remain +here." + +"You are right," said Beldi, after some reflection; "it will be better +to send a letter," and with that he asked for writing materials, sat +down, and wrote to Banfi. + +The mere act of writing generally clears and calms the mind, so that it +was in a fairly moderate tone that Beldi challenged Banfi to meet him at +Szamos-Ujvar on an affair of honour. Beldi then sealed the letter and +gave it to Gyergyai, requesting him to forward it at once. + +"So you are writing to Banfi, my brother?" said the old man, looking at +the address of the letter. "Why, you only parted from him a little time +ago! What is all this between you?" + +"Do you recollect the time, my father," said Beldi, "when you saw Banfi +and me fight together in the lists at the tournament held by Prince +George Rakoczy?" + +"Quite well! On that occasion you had both vanquished every other +competitor, but could do nothing against each other." + +"You then said that you would very much like to see which of the two +would beat the other if we set to it in earnest." + +"Yes; I well remember it." + +"Well, now you _shall_ see!" + +Gyergyai looked Beldi in the face. + +"My brother, I know not what this letter contains, but I can guess your +thoughts from your face. My father used to say that a letter written in +wrath should never be sent off the same day, but should be put under +one's pillow and slept upon. The advice is not bad; follow it, and send +off the letter to-morrow morning, for, to be candid with you, I won't +send it to-night." + +Beldi followed the old man's advice. He put the letter under his pillow, +lay down, went to sleep, and dreamt that he was in the bosom of his +family, saw his wife and children, and was very happy. It was only the +rolling of his carriage into the courtyard next morning which woke him +out of his slumbers. The first thing that occurred to him was his letter +to Banfi. He broke the seal, read the letter through again, and was much +ashamed that he had ever written such a letter. + +"Where was your common-sense, Beldi?" he asked himself, tore the letter +to pieces, and threw it into the fire. "How the world would have laughed +at me!" thought he. "An old fool, to take it into his head all at once +to be jealous of the mother of his children!--and for the sake of a kiss +too given in drunkenness and rejected with indignation. What a weapon I +should have put into Banfi's hands, had I led him to suppose that I was +jealous of my wife on his account." + +"Let us go to Bodola," said he very gently to his coachman, and with +that he took leave of his host. + +"But how about that pressing letter of yours?" asked Gyergyai anxiously. + +"I have already sent it--up the chimney," replied Beldi, smiling, and +set out on his journey with feelings very different from those with +which he had started. + +So you see a man can be drunk without wine! + +While still some distance from Bodola, he could see all the members of +his family looking out for him on the castle terrace, and no sooner did +they perceive his carriage, than they hastened down to greet him. He met +them all in the park, wife and children; they threw themselves on his +neck with cries of joy, and he kissed them all, one after another, over +and over again; but his warmest embraces were for his darling wife, who +smiled up at him with a radiant face, which he could not feast his eyes +upon enough. It seemed to him as if her eyes were brighter, her features +more enchanting, her lips sweeter than ever they had been. + +"What a fool a man is, to be sure," thought Beldi, "who, when his wife +is out of sight, is capable of supposing everything bad of her, and when +she stands before his eyes cannot make too much of her." + +In the abandonment of his joy he did not at first perceive that there +was a strange face in the family circle--a handsome, stately young Turk, +with frank and noble features, not unlike an Hungarian. + +"You do not even notice me, or perhaps you forget me," said the youth, +stepping in front of Beldi. + +Beldi looked at him. The youth's features were familiar to him, and yet +he could not recall his name till his youngest daughter, Aranka, who was +dangling on her father's arm, remarked archly-- + +"What! Not recognize Feriz Beg, papa! Why, I knew him at the first +glance." + +Beldi at once held out his hand and heartily greeted the youth, whose +manly features however wore a grave and serious look. + +"My father sends me to you on an urgent errand," said he, "and had you +not come, I must have gone to seek you, for my message admits of no +delay." + +Beldi was struck by the youth's earnest tone, and on reaching the castle +immediately took him aside into a private room, and there the young Beg +handed him a parchment roll tied round with silken cord, and sealed with +a yellow seal. Beldi broke the seal and read as follows-- + + "The blessing and protection of heaven rest upon you + and your family!--Transylvania is in great danger. The + Sultan is enraged at the war which Denis Banfi wages + with the Pasha of Grosswardein. They say that this + great noble is in league with the Emperor. See to it + that the land chastises Banfi, the power to do so is + still your own. But if the Prince cannot, or will not + punish him, the Sultan has sworn to drive the pair of + them out of the realm, and convert Transylvania into a + Turkish Pachalic. The Pashas of Grosswardein and + Temesvar, the Lord-Marchers, and the Tartar Khan have + been ordered to hold themselves in readiness to invade + Transylvania from all sides at a moment's notice. Put + a bit therefore in the mouth of this great lord, for + death hangs over your heads on the film of a spider's + web. + + "Your friend and brother, + + "KUCSUK PASHA." + +Beldi's face grew dark as he read this letter. So it was all in vain +that he had driven Banfi's name out of his head. This letter conjured up +that odious form once more before his eyes. + +He folded up the parchment and gave the grave youth a brief answer to +take back with him-- + +"Let your father know that we will take the necessary steps to avert the +threatened evil, and thank him heartily for his warning." + +Feriz Beg immediately quitted Bodola Castle. Beldi remained alone in his +room, pacing to and fro in a brown study, and racking his brains to find +a way out of the danger. He could find none. It was not to be expected +that Banfi's pride would yield to the Pasha, especially after a +brilliant victory and in a just cause; and yet the welfare of the land +required the sacrifice of the just cause. + +Brooding thus, he did not notice that somebody was tapping at his door, +who after thrice knocking and receiving no answer, opened it, and as +Beldi suddenly came to himself and looked around him with a start, he +perceived Michael Teleki standing before him. So amazed was Beldi by +this apparition, that for the moment the power of speech forsook him. + +"You appear surprised," said Teleki, observing his amazement. "You are +astonished that I should travel such a long way to see you, after +parting from you only twenty-four hours ago. But great events have taken +place in the meantime. Transylvania is threatened by a danger which must +be averted as quickly as possible." + +"I know it," replied Beldi, and putting his hand over the signature, he +let Teleki read Kucsuk's letter. + +"Great heaven!" exclaimed the minister. "You know more than I did. But +what I want to say on this matter is a secret which the very walls +around us may not hear." + +"I understand," replied Beldi, and immediately commanded his heydukes +to admit no one into the vestibules; placed guards in front of the +windows, and drew the curtains down to the ground. There now only +remained a little tapestried door, at the back of the room, which led +through a narrow corridor to his wife's bed-chamber, an arrangement very +common, at that time, in the mansions of Hungarian magnates. By way of +additional precaution Beldi closed this door also. + +"Does your Excellency feel secure enough now?" asked Beldi. + +"One thing more. Give me your word of honour that if what I am about to +disclose does not meet with your approbation, you will at least keep it +secret." + +"I promise," returned Beldi, impatiently awaiting the _dnouement_ of +all this mystery. + +Teleki thereupon drew forth a long strip of parchment, unfolded it, and +held it before Beldi's eyes, without however letting it out of his +hands. + +It was the league against Banfi, signed and sealed by the Prince. + +The more Beldi read of this document, the blacker grew his looks, till +at last, turning his face away, he pushed the document aside with an +expression of deep disgust. + +"Sir," said he, "'tis a dirty piece of work!" + +Teleki was prepared for some such answer, and summoned to his aid all +the sophistry of which he was so perfect a master. + +"Beldi!" cried he, "we must, for once, put aside all narrow-minded +sentiment. Here it is a question of the end and not of the means. The +means may seem bad, but we really have no other. Whenever a subject +becomes so powerful in a state that the arm of the law is no longer able +to bring him to justice, then I say he has only himself to blame if the +state is compelled to conspire against him. He whom the axe of the +executioner cannot reach, must fall beneath the dagger of the bravo. +Denis Banfi, by despising the Prince's commands and waging war on his +own account, has placed himself outside the law. In such a case, where +the ordinary tribunals become inoperative, we must of course have resort +to secret tribunals. If any one injures me, and the law can give me no +remedy, I make use of my own weapons, and shoot him down wherever I meet +him. If the country is injured by any one whom it cannot punish, it must +fall back upon the _jus ligatum_, and lay hands upon him whenever and +wherever it can. The commonweal requires, the common danger compels +such a step." + +"We are in the hands of God!" replied Beldi. "If 'tis His will to +destroy the fatherland, we can only bow the head and die in defence of +our freedom with a good conscience. But never ought we to lift our hands +against the liberties we have inherited from our forefathers. Rather let +us endure the wrongs which spring from those liberties, than lay the axe +to the root of them ourselves! Rather let war and strife burst over the +land, than conspire against the laws! That may cost the nation its +blood; but this will destroy its very soul. I disapprove of this league, +and, sir, I mean to oppose it!" + +At these words Michael Teleki rose from his seat, sank down upon his +knees before Beldi, raised his hands to heaven, and cried-- + +"I swear by the living God, that as I hope for my own and my family's +protection and happiness here and for salvation hereafter, that what I +now do, I do as your loyal friend, well knowing that all Banfi's efforts +aim at the ruin of your house, and I solemnly adjure you, as you love +your life and the lives of your wife and children, to avert the +impending danger by signing the league. I have now done all in my power +to save you and my country, and that too at my own risk and peril. I +have no other object. Before God I lie not!" + +Beldi turned with calm dignity towards the minister, and said, in a tone +of immovable conviction-- + +"_Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!_" + + * * * * * + +A few moments after Teleki's arrival at Bodola, a mounted heyduke had +galloped into the courtyard; it was Andrew, Dame Apafi's faithful old +servant, who handed to Dame Beldi a letter from the Princess, adding +that the message was doubly urgent, as he already perceived in the +courtyard Teleki's coachman, whom he ought to have forestalled. + +Dame Beldi hastily opened the letter and read as follows-- + + "DEAR SISTER-- + + "Michael Teleki has set out for Bodola to see your + husband. His aim is to secretly ruin Banfi by the hand + of Beldi. The magnates have conspired together to + break the law. Fortunately, every one of them has a + wife, and in the hearts of our women the better + feelings of human nature are not yet extinguished. I + have charged each one of them to preserve their + husbands from Teleki's wiles; but 'tis to you that I + chiefly look for help. Beldi is the most eminent of + them all. If he joins the league, the rest will follow + his example; but he is also the most honourable of men + and the best of husbands. I count upon your firmness. + Move heaven and earth! + + "Your loving sister, + + "ANNA BORNEMISSA." + +On reading this letter, Dame Beldi almost swooned. + +Teleki had already been closeted with her husband for more than +half-an-hour, and the servants had brought word that every one had been +ordered away, even from the passages leading to the room. In an instant +she divined everything. Terror seized her. Perhaps it was already too +late! But what could she do? Suddenly, the secret corridor occurred to +her, which led from her bedroom to her husband's. Urged by fear, she +rapidly traversed the corridor, reached the tapestried door, stood still +before it with a beating heart, and listened. She could only hear +Teleki, and he was speaking in an unusually excited voice, which rose +almost to a scream. She looked through the keyhole, and beheld the +minister on his knees before her husband with uplifted hands, +endeavouring to move him by solemn oaths. + +Such a sight made Dame Beldi perfectly frantic. What must it be that +could make a man so proud and so exalted kneel down before Beldi? What +is he swearing so vehemently? Suddenly Banfi's name struck on her ear; +she turned pale with horror, and at the same instant she heard Beldi say +the words--"_Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!_" Ignorant as she was of the +Latin language, she at once jumped to the conclusion that her husband +had yielded, and in her desperation pressed hard upon the door-latch, +and finding it immovable, shook the door furiously, exclaiming wildly at +the same time-- + +"My husband! My beloved lord! Lord of my soul! Give no heed to Teleki's +words, for he would ruin you." + +Both the men started at this passionate cry, and Beldi rose from his +seat, went to the door, opened it, and cried angrily to his wife-- + +"Go to your work, woman! You have no business here." + +Then Dame Beldi lost her presence of mind altogether. Fear did not allow +her to reflect. The idea that her husband was consenting to Teleki's +schemes rendered her incapable of grasping the situation; and she forgot +that the most complaisant of husbands, rather than see his uxoriousness +paraded before the world, will do violence to his better nature. So Dame +Beldi rushed wildly into the room, sank down at her husband's feet, +convulsively clasped his knees, and cried in a voice of passionate +remonstrance-- + +"Sweet lord of my heart! I adjure you not to believe in that man. Don't +be led away. He would bring down innocent blood upon your head. You are +too just and merciful to become a headsman." + +"Get up, woman! You are mad!" + +"Oh! I know what I'm saying. I saw him kneel to you. He who believes in +God, kneels not to man. He would ruin Denis Banfi through you. Woe +betide us if you help him! For if Banfi be the first, you will assuredly +be the second." + +When Teleki saw his secret design thus exposed, he grew wroth. + +"If my wife were to treat me so," cried he passionately, "I would tear +her eyes out. If any one came to me with a saving word of friendship on +his tongue, I would thank him for it, and not allow my wife to lead me +by the nose." + +Beldi turned furiously upon his wife and ordered her out. + +"I'll remain here even if you kill me, for 'tis a matter of life or +death. When the peace of my family is at stake, I think 'tis time for me +to speak. I beg, I implore you to hear me. I'll not allow you to +sacrifice Banfi." + +Beldi was already so ashamed of this onslaught on his marital authority +that he was nearly beside himself; but when his wife began to plead for +Banfi, he started back as if an adder had bitten him. + +This did not escape Teleki, and with malicious innuendo he exclaimed-- + +"It seems to me that wives forget _some things_ much sooner than their +husbands." + +Quick as lightning the dart pierced through Beldi's soul. The +recollection of that kiss came back to him. Pale and speechless, he +seized his wife's arm; her loud sobs only inflamed his jealousy, and +dragging her to the tapestried door, he pushed her out and closed it +behind her. There she remained, lying on the threshold, loudly cursing +the Prince's minister, and hammering at the closed door with her fists. + +Beldi, pale as death, sat down at the table, gnashed his teeth, and +whispered huskily-- + +"Where's the document?" + +Teleki spread out the parchment roll before him on the table. + +Beldi took up his pen without a word, and wrote his name in a bold hand +beneath that of Michael Apafi. + +A triumphant smile played around Teleki's lips. + +No sooner was the deed done than something in Beldi's breast began to +accuse him. Resting his hand on the document, he turned with a very +grave face towards Teleki. + +"I expressly stipulate," he murmured, in a hollow voice, "that if Banfi +be arrested, right and justice shall be done to him, according to the +law of the land." + +"Quite so! Of course!" returned the Prince's counsellor, making a snatch +at the document. + +Still Beldi would not let it go. + +"Sir," said he, "promise me that you will not secretly assassinate +Banfi; but that when once he is arrested you will proceed against him +before the proper Court of Justice, and in the usual, legitimate way. If +you don't guarantee me that, I'll tear this parchment to pieces and +throw it into the fire, together with my own and the Prince's +signatures." + +"I promise it to you on my word of honour," replied the minister, +inwardly smiling at the man who was so weak so long as he stood upright, +and made such a brave show of firmness when he had already fallen. + +That same day Teleki hastened with the subscribed league to Ladislaus +Csaky, and from him to Haller, and from him to the Bethlens. As soon as +they saw Beldi's name, they signed the document without more ado, for +all of them hated Banfi. + +In every case the wives intervened. Terrible scenes took place. Nowhere +did Teleki escape scot-free. But the league was successfully carried +through, and that was, after all, the main thing. + +And thus it was that Transylvania dug her own grave. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CONSORT AND CONCUBINE. + + +Ever since that painful scene at Bonczhida, Lady Banfi had not met her +husband. Fate so willed it that Banfi was constantly away from home; +scarcely had he come back from the Diet of Fehervr when he was called +away to Somlyo, where his troops stood face to face with the Turks. +During the few hours however that he remained at home, his wife had +locked herself up from him; not even the domestics caught a glimpse of +her face. She did not quit her chamber, and received no one. + +One day both the spouses were invited to Roppad by a distant kinsman, +one Gabriel Vitez, who knew nothing of their estrangement, to act as +sponsors to his new-born son. To decline the invitation was impossible, +and thus it came about that on the day in question, Lady Banfi coming +from Bonczhida and her husband from Somlyo met together, to their mutual +confusion, at the festive mansion of the Vitezes. + +At the first meeting they instinctively shrank back from each other. +They had both indeed longed for such a meeting, but pride had kept them +apart, and thus while their affection rejoiced at, their pride revolted +against this chance encounter. Of course they let nothing of all this +appear openly. In the presence of their friends they had so to conduct +themselves that nobody might suspect that this meeting was anything but +an everyday occurrence. + +At the end of the banquet, which lasted far into the night, Master +Gabriel Vitez took care that all his guests should be lodged with the +utmost convenience. Husbands and wives and all the young girls had +separate quarters, and the young men were accommodated in the hunting +saloon. For Banfi and his spouse the garden pavilion had been reserved, +which, being at some distance from the noisy courtyard, promised to be +the quietest resting-place of all. The host, with the most distinguished +courtesy, accompanied them thither himself. + +It was now a long time since they had slept together under the same +roof. + +Before so many acquaintances they could not declare their estrangement, +and had been compelled to accept the nice quarters provided for them by +their amiable host, who insisted, despite their protests, in showing +them the way; jested pleasantly with them for a time, and only left them +to themselves after wishing them good-night some scores of times. + +The pavilion consisted of two small adjoining rooms, such cosy little +cribs, with quite an air of home about them. In one of them a merry fire +was crackling and flickering on the hearth. In the corner a tall solemn +clock was softly ticking. The brocade curtains of the large tester-bed +were half drawn back, revealing behind them a comfortable, snow-white, +downy expanse, on which lay, side by side, _two_ little pillows adorned +with red ribbons. + +In the other room, which was half lighted by the reflection of the fire, +a couch was visible provided with a bear-skin covering and a single +stag-skin bolster. In all probability no one had ever thought that it +would be occupied. + +Banfi looked sadly at his wife. Now that he was no longer free to +approach her, he saw what a heaven he had possessed in that noble and +lovely being. She stood before him with downcast eyes, so sorrowful and +yet so mild. + +In her heart, too, many traitorous thoughts pleaded for her husband; +wounded pride, that unbending judge, was already beginning to waver. In +a noble breast it is not hate but grief that takes the place of love. + +Banfi drew nearer to his wife, seized her hand, and pressed it in his +own. He felt that her hand trembled, but he also felt that it did not +return his pressure. + +He went still further. He tenderly pressed her to him, and kissed her +forehead, cheeks, and lips. She suffered his caresses but did not return +them. But if only she had looked up into her husband's eyes, she would +have seen them glistening with two tears as sincere as ever repentant +sinner shed. + +Banfi, with a deep sigh, sat down in an armchair, still holding +Margaret's hand in his own; it needed but a single tender word from his +wife, and he would have flung himself at her feet and wept like a +remorseful child. Instead of that, Dame Banfi, with self-denying +affectation, said to her husband-- + +"Do you wish to remain in this room, and shall I go into the other?" + +The icy tone of these words cut Banfi to the heart. His broad breast +heaved a deep sigh, his eyes looked sorrowfully at Margaret's joyless +face--to him a closed paradise. He rose gravely from his seat, pressed +his wife's hand to his lips, whispered her a scarcely audible +good-night, and tottered into the adjoining room, closing the door +behind him. + +Dame Banfi set about disrobing, but on casting a glance at the lonely +couch, a painful feeling overcame her. She threw herself sobbing on the +pillows, and then, finding no rest for her soul there, she stood up +again, drew a chair in front of the fire, sat down, and burying her face +in her hands indulged in brooding, melancholy, dreamy thoughts. + +And can there be any greater grief than when the heart fights against +its own conviction; when a woman can no longer conceal from herself that +the ideal of her love, him whom, after God, she loves the most, is after +all only a common, ordinary mortal?--that he whom she has loved so nobly +deserves nothing but her contempt? And yet she cannot but love him! She +feels she ought to hate him, yet she cannot bear the thought of being +without him. She would fain die for him, and the opportunity of dying +will not come. + +A single unlocked door separates her from him. They are only a few steps +apart. How small the distance, and yet how great! She can hear him +sighing. He too cannot sleep while he is so near to her whom he has so +deeply wounded. What bliss it would be to traverse those few steps, to +nestle side by side, to gratify each other's longings! But +reconciliation is impossible; her heart yearns after it and recoils from +it, loves and loathes at the same moment. + +Oh! why can we not forget the Past? Why is it impossible to prevent +Grief from grieving? + +The lady fell a-thinking, a-dreaming. + +It seemed to her as if she were talking to her husband in a vision-- + +"You said yourself that we ought to part while we still loved each +other, while our hearts would bleed at the rupture. Then why don't you +do it? Why do you sigh when you look at me? Why do you kiss me? Those +sighs, those kisses are torture to me; they wound my heart. Let us +part! It was your own wish." + +The fire had burnt very low in the grate; over the ruddy embers a pale, +ever-dwindling flame was feebly flickering to and fro, like the last +thought of an extinguished passion. All around the room was growing +darker and darker; the light of the expiring embers barely lit up the +form of the sorrowing lady who sat there, with her head buried in her +hands, like a marble statue mourning over a tomb. + +Suddenly, amid the silence of the night and of her own thoughts, it +seemed to her as if whispering voices and stealthy footsteps were +approaching the doors of the pavilion. + +Lady Banfi really did hear these sounds; but she was like one but +half-awakened from his first sleep, who hears but heeds not, who knows +what is going on about him without regarding it. + +The whispering was now audible close beneath the windows, and now and +then it seemed to her as if the smothered clash of arms was mingling +with it. In her dreamy state the lady fancied she had got up and bolted +the door; but this was a delusion, the door remained ajar. + +Then some one pressed the latch, and the creaking sound made Lady Banfi +dream that her husband had come to her, and was speaking to her in a +tearful, supplicating voice. She felt the terrors of nightmare strong +upon her as she came within the magnetic influence of that shape. "Let +us part, Banfi!" she would have said, but the words died away on her +lips. Then the dream-shape whispered to her--"I am not Banfi, but the +headsman!" and seized her hand. + +At this cold touch Lady Banfi uttered a shriek and started up. + +Two men stood before her with drawn swords. The lady looked into their +faces with a shudder. Both were well known to her. One was Caspar +Kornis, chief captain of the Maros district, the other John Daczo, chief +captain of Csik, who now stood before her with menacing looks, and the +points of their naked swords at her breast. + +"Not a sound, my lady!" said Daczo grimly. "Where's Banfi?" + +The lady, thus scared out of her first sleep, was scarcely able to +distinguish the objects around her: terror made her dumb. + +Suddenly she observed through the open door that the passage was filled +with armed men, whereupon her presence of mind seemed instantly and +completely to return. She grasped at once the tremendous significance of +the moment, and when Daczo, gnashing his teeth, again asked her where +Banfi was, she bounded from her chair, ran to the door which separated +her husband's chamber from her own, turned the key quickly round, and +screamed with all her might-- + +"Banfi! Save yourself! They seek your life!" + +Daczo ran forward to stop her mouth and snatch the key from her; but +with singular presence of mind Lady Banfi had, in the meantime, thrown +the key into the heart of the red-hot embers, and cried again-- + +"Fly, Banfi! Your enemies are here!" + +Daczo tried to pick the key out of the fire, and burnt his fingers very +badly in the attempt, whereupon, still more furious, he rushed upon the +lady sword in hand to cut her down, but Kornis held him back. + +"Softly, sir! We have no orders to kill the woman, nor would it be +worthy of us; let us try rather to burst open the door as quickly as +possible," and with that they both pressed their shoulders against the +door, Daczo cursing and swearing, and calling upon all the devils in +hell to help him, while Lady Banfi on her knees prayed God to allow her +husband to escape. + + * * * * * + +Banfi had gone to sleep at the same time as his wife. He too had had a +tormenting dream. He fancied he was in prison, and the moment he heard +Margaret's shriek, he sprang in terror from his couch, tore open the +window of the pavilion, and without thinking what he was doing, leaped +into the garden at a single bound. He looked hurriedly about him. The +house was surrounded by armed Szeklers, and the rear of the garden was +bounded by a broad ditch filled with greenish rain-water. Amongst the +masses of infantry stood here and there a group of grooms, holding by +the bridles the chargers from which their masters had just dismounted. + +Banfi had very little time for reflection, nor did he need much. Under +cover of the darkness, he rushed swiftly upon the nearest groom, gave +him a buffet which brought the blood in streams from his nose and mouth, +sprang upon one of the vacant horses, and struck the spurs into its +flanks. + +The cry of the groom, who had fallen beneath the horse but still held on +fast by the bridle, brought up to the spot a crowd of yelling Szeklers. +It immediately occurred to Banfi to put his hands into his +saddle-pouches, where pistols were sure to be found, and the moment he +felt the handles, he as quick as light sent two shots among the crowd +which was pressing upon him from all sides, and taking advantage of the +consequent hubbub and confusion, spurred his horse fiercely, till it +reared and plunged and flew away with him through the garden. The groom +still stuck to it like a leech, and allowed himself to be dragged along +the ground, till at last his head came into collision with the stump of +a tree and he fell back unconscious. Banfi thereupon galloped towards +the ditch, and leaped it at a single bold bound; his pursuers, not +daring to follow him that way, were obliged to make a long dtour to +reach the gates, thus giving Banfi a start of several hundred paces. His +steed too, scared by the noise of the pursuit, had become half frantic, +and Banfi gave him his head, and away they went over stock and stone, up +hill and down dale, without aim or purpose. + + * * * * * + +"Oh, accursed woman!" roared Daczo, threatening Lady Banfi with his +fists, when he learnt that Banfi had made his escape. "'Tis all through +you that Banfi has slipped through our fingers." + +"Oh, Almighty God! I thank Thee!" stammered Margaret, with hands +upraised to heaven. + +The Szeklers, enraged at having let the husband escape, swung their +weapons and rushed upon the wife to murder her. + +"Let her die! Her blood be upon her own head!" they roared, with bestial +rage. + +"Kill me! Death will be welcome to me!" cried Margaret, kneeling down +before them. "To die for him was my only wish. God be with me!" + +"Be off with you!" cried Kornis, suddenly intervening, beating down the +weapons of the Szeklers with his sword, and covering the kneeling lady +with his body. "Shame on you! Would you kill a woman? Ye are worse than +the Pagan Tartars. If you've let Banfi escape, run after him." + +"We'll kill her! We'll kill her!" bellowed the Szeklers, and again they +attempted to tear Kornis away from the lady. + +"Eh! you damned beasts! Who commands here, I should like to know? Am I +not your captain?" + +"No!" bluntly replied a stiff-necked, bull-headed Szekler, twitching +his bulky shoulders to and fro. "Our captain is Nicholas Bethlen, and he +is not here." + +"Then go and find him. But let me tell you that whoever does not +instantly quit this room shall be beaten into a pulp." + +Still the Szeklers persisted in remaining, and there is no knowing what +they might not have done, had not one of the hindermost suddenly +exclaimed-- + +"Let us go to Bonczhida!" + +Thereupon all the others fell a-shouting--"To Bonczhida! to Bonczhida!" +and they withdrew, cursing horribly, and in the most chaotic confusion. + +But Captain Kornis quietly put Lady Banfi into a carriage, and sent her +to Bethlen Castle, which then belonged to Paul Beldi, hoping that Banfi +would behave with a little more discretion when he heard that his wife +was a prisoner. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, the Szekler rabble sent out against Banfi by order of the +Prince had arrived at Bonczhida, and on showing the castellan the +Prince's mandate, the gates were opened to them without the slightest +contradiction. Daczo only left a portion of his band there, whom he +strictly charged to arrest Banfi the moment he appeared, then with the +rest he went on to rmenyes, where Banfi had another castle, to seek him +there. + +The Szeklers left behind at Bonczhida no sooner perceived themselves +captainless, than they proceeded to make themselves perfectly at home in +the occupied castle. At first indeed they only jostled each other in the +hall and vestibules, but presently they began to insist that the private +apartments should also be thrown open to them. + +The castellan hesitated. He declared that there was no necessity for +such a step, and begged the noble gentlemen to keep within their legal +rights, whereupon the before-mentioned broad-shouldered, bull-headed +rogue stepped forth, twirled his blonde moustache, which consisted of +about nine hairs, and thrusting his pock-marked face close under the +castellan's nose, exclaimed-- + +"What do you mean by that? You are a conspirator! You have robber-bands +concealed in those rooms. Open the doors instantly, or we'll burn the +house down!" + +The castellan was very wroth, but he was also very frightened, so he +threw open the rooms in order that the Szeklers might see with their +own eyes that nobody was concealed there. + +The Szeklers thereupon, with astonishing conscientiousness, thoroughly +explored every hole and corner, even looking into places where no one +would ever have thought of hiding anything. They looked under and inside +all the beds. They pulled out all the cupboards. They took the grates +out bodily to see what was behind them. They pitched all the books out +of the book-cases, and, after ransacking every room, came at last to +Lady Banfi's bed-chamber. + +"Look! look! There sits Banfi!" cried the bull-headed ringleader, +recoiling at first before a lifelike portrait of the Baron, but +immediately afterwards rushing forward and gouging out one of its eyes +with his spear. "And that pretty lady yonder is his wife, I suppose?" +asked he, pointing to another portrait by the side of the first. "Ai, +ai, ai! We were like to have killed her a little while ago, not knowing +that she was so pretty. Let us be off, comrades! This room we must leave +untouched, for it belongs to that pretty lady," and with that he drove +his comrades out, and wrote with a piece of charcoal on the white +enamelled door, in letters each an ell long--"THIS IS THE PRETTY LADY'S +CHAMBER." + +"Why do you do that?" asked the castellan in some surprise. + +"To prevent any fuddled blockhead from thrusting his nose in there, in +case we all get drunk." + +"But where will you all get the drink from, pray?" asked the castellan, +more and more amazed. + +"Nay, gossip! we must certainly have a peep at the cellars also, to see +if anybody is lurking there." + +"There you cannot go, and so I tell you once for all, unless you have +brought petards with you under your coats of mail." + +"What! Just say that again! I should like to hear it once more. Do you +know, gossip, to whom you are speaking? My name is Firi Firtos, and if +you speak a single word more, I'll chuck you over the house, so that you +will fall to the ground in half-a-dozen pieces." + +"Why bandy words with him?" cried a voice from the crowd. "Let us pitch +the fellow out of the window." + +The Szeklers did not wait to be told twice, but instantly raised the +castellan into the air and threw him, despite his frantic struggles, out +of the window. Luckily he fell on his feet, and took to his heels, to +the great indignation of Firi Firtos, who seized all the cactus and +hortensia plants that stood in the windows, and hurled them after him, +pots and all, after which the whole mob rushed bellowing down to the +cellars. Finding it impossible to open the large iron doors, they +dragged forward huge casks, filled them with big stones, and sent them +flying down the cellar steps, till at last the iron doors fell in with a +tremendous crash. + +The vast cellar was fitted with huge butts and barrels of every size and +shape, and the Szeklers forthwith fell upon them and knocked the tops +off with their morning-stars to see what was inside them. The costly +wine poured out into the cellar. The Szeklers drank as only Szeklers can +drink, and what they could not drink was simply wasted. + +When they had all drunk as much as they could hold, the mob stormed +up-stairs again, and while another batch took their place below, they +forced their way into the state-rooms, rolled about on the costly divans +and oriental carpets, hustled one another against the furniture and +mirrors, and indulged in many other like pleasantries. Firi Firtos +climbed on to a round ebony table in order to paint a moustache on the +portrait of a medival lady with a piece of charcoal, but some one else +jerked the table from under him, and the merry wag fell crashing down +into a glass chest containing the family treasures. Mad with rage, he +immediately began pitching about everything which came to hand: gorgeous +gold pocals, silver plates, enamelled snuff-boxes, flew one after +another at the heads of the Szeklers, who, entering into the joke, flung +them all back at him with great spirit. + +This was the signal for a general devastation. The mania for destruction +is contagious. It needs but one to begin it, and the mob, as if +rejoicing at the sight, is never so ready as when there is something to +be pulled, torn, or smashed to bits. In an instant every piece of +furniture was broken up and every bit of tapestry torn down. Splendid +costumes, costly, fur-trimmed pelisses, gala-mantles--everything was +torn to pieces. They ripped open the feather-beds, scattered the +eider-down out of the windows, and bellowed to those who stood +below--"It is snowing! it is snowing!" whereupon all the others came +rushing up to tear and pull to pieces what still remained whole. + +They pulled up the fragrant jasmines by the roots to make posies of +them, and cut up into neckties the delicate tapestries which Lady Banfi +had worked with her own hands. Stealing gave the Szeklers no pleasure, +it was destruction for its own sake that they found so delightful. Thus +they threw to the ground a rare and costly clock which needed winding +only once a year, broke it up, distributed the wheels and chains as +buckles for their shoes, and melted the silver keys into bullets, which +they fired off into the air. + +Here too it was edifying to see how Firi Firtos tried to get at the +bottom of everything. He took down an antique urn and stuck it on his +head upside down by way of a helmet. A clock chain he wound round his +loins as a girdle, and he danced about hugging in his arms a huge statue +of Gutenberg, declaring that it would make an excellent scarecrow for +the Somlyo vineyards. + +The fragments of the broken furniture they piled up on the hearth, and +made a great fire of the priceless ebony, mahogany, and palisander +woods. The conflagration of a whole village would not have been half so +costly. + +Over this fire they hung, on a silver chain, a Corinthian amphora of +exquisite workmanship by way of a kettle, filled it with finely-chopped +mutton, and sent Firi Firtos out for beans, salt, and onions. He brought +them instead green coffee beans, white powdered sugar, and the most +costly tulip, amaryllis, and hyacinth bulbs, all of which they threw +pell-mell into the kettle, with the natural consequence that the mess, +when finished, was very nearly the death of them all, and the end of it +was that they pitched Firi Firtos neck and crop into the courtyard. + +The Szekler, mad with rage and unable to obtain any other satisfaction, +rushed down to the cellars to drink himself dead drunk, but there all +the hogsheads had already been staved in, and he waded in wine up to his +middle. Looking about him, he perceived a door leading to a second +cellar, broke it open with his axe, and was overjoyed to see by the +light of the torch he held in his hand, a whole row of fresh casks. He +immediately rushed upon the first of them, and knocking the top in, held +the torch over it to see what was flowing out. It was _gunpowder_! +Luckily for him he was drunk, otherwise he would certainly have sent the +castle and everything it contained the shortest way to heaven. "That's +not good to drink!" thought he, and broke open the second cask; in that +too there was powder, and in the third also, and he swore a terrible +oath that if the fourth held the same thing he would hurl the torch into +it holus bolus. In the fourth cask, however, there was honey, and shake +it as much as he would, he could get nothing else out of it. At last he +came upon a six-gallon cask, and, smelling the bung, inhaled a strong +odour of spirits, which made him madder than ever, and seizing it by the +spigot he raised it bodily from the ground and swallowed long draughts +of the strong corn brandy, till over he fell backwards, cask and all. +There he wallowed about in the streaming honey; struggled laboriously to +his feet again, stumbled a few steps further on, fell down into the +gunpowder; rolled backwards and forwards in it for some time, and +finally, all candied as he was, scrambled into the courtyard, and there +the honey-and-powder-bedaubed form fell prone into the heaps of +eider-down which covered the ground, and sprawled helplessly about till +he was covered with plumage from the crown of his head to the soles of +his jack-boots, and in this plight the grotesquely hideous creature +crawled up stairs on all fours in amongst his carousing companions. The +man no longer resembled any known beast of the Old or New Worlds. He was +black and white all over: white where he was not black, and black where +he was not white. Perhaps he had some distant resemblance to a polar +bear with a hide of feathers instead of hair, but his roaring was like +the roaring of a hippopotamus. It is therefore not surprising that when +the Szeklers beheld this strange monster crawling towards them on all +fours and bellowing loudly, they should take to their heels in terror, +scatter to all points of the compass, and leave the flesh-filled kettle +in the lurch. Most of them took the shortest but most dangerous way out +of the window, exclaiming--"That is Banfi's devil! Here comes Banfi's +devil!" + +The Szekler, perceiving the success of his involuntary masquerade, sent +after the fugitives a still more ghastly howl, took the amphora down +from the chain, sat down with it in the middle of the parquetted floor, +thrust both hands into it at once like a demon of the woods, and gobbled +and roared alternately. + +And these savage scenes took place in the very same chamber where, only +a few days before, the delicate form of Dame Banfi had appeared among +her jasmines and mimosas like a melancholy shade from fairyland which +only listens with its soul and speaks with its eyes. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Denis Banfi, after breaking through the ambush laid for him at +Koppad, began, as the noise of the pursuit gradually died away, to look +about him in the star-bright night, and picked his way so carefully +through woods and over stubble-fields that, at dawn of day, he saw +before him the towers of Klausenburg. + +Once rid of the terrors of pursuit, anger and revenge began to rage +within him. He thought at first that this night attack was simply an +audacious conspiracy of his private enemies concocted without the +knowledge of the Prince, on the principle that an accomplished act is +more easily justifiable than an act that has still to be accomplished. +But the attempt had not succeeded, and the escaped lion had both the +will and the power to turn upon his pursuers and teach them respect for +the laws. + +In the plain before the town Banfi's troops were just going through +their morning exercises when their leader came galloping up to them, +pale, agitated, unarmed, and without either hat or mantle. His captains +hastened towards him, aghast and curious. + +"I've just escaped from a murderous assault," said Banfi, with a hoarse +voice and a heaving breast; "my enemies have treacherously fallen upon +me. I have escaped them, but my wife is in their hands. I recognized the +voices of Daczo and Kornis among my pursuers." + +"Yes, and Daczo's name is embroidered on this saddle-cloth," said +Michael Angel. + +Banfi appeared much disturbed. His face was dark and troubled, as if +neither the future nor the past was quite clear to him. + +"I don't understand it at all," said he to his captains. "If the attack +was by the Prince's command, I ought to have been served beforehand with +a writ, a citation, or, at the very least, a notice of judgment. If +however it be only an act of private vengeance, my band is more than +sufficient to reach these honest Szeklers. In any case, you will remain +under arms before the town while I go up to my castle. In a few hours I +shall know whither we have to turn." + +Thereupon Banfi rode into the town, accompanied by Michael Angel. As he +turned the corner of his palace, he was obliged to pass over the ground +where the house of Dame Saint Pauli had formerly stood. All that +remained of it now was a large stone, and Banfi, chancing to look in +that direction, saw the mistress of the vanished house sitting on that +single stone, and evidently awaiting him. He turned impatiently away, +but she arose, curtseyed low, and cried derisively-- + +"Good-morning, your Excellency! Good-morning!" + +Banfi haughtily rode on without a word. At the palace gate the castellan +of Bonczhida awaited him, who, after escaping from the violence of the +Szeklers, had discreetly kept his evil tidings secret, and now told his +lord, in a hurried whisper, that his castle had been turned upside down, +and the Szeklers were making merry there to their hearts' content. + +Banfi answered not a syllable, but he sent for his armour and his +charger, and calmly got ready to depart. + +"Your lordship would do well to hasten," said the castellan; "by this +time the Szeklers must have penetrated into the state apartments." + +"It is well," replied Banfi, walking up and down the room with folded +arms. + +"No, my lord; it is not well. They have smashed to pieces everything in +the rooms, torn the carpets to shreds, divided among them the +curiosities, flooded the cellars with wine, and even made away with the +horses." + +"It does not matter," replied the magnate hoarsely. What cared he at +that moment for his costliest treasures, his wine, his horses? + +"They have done still worse, my lord. They forced their way into her +ladyship's bedroom, set up the bust of her ladyship as a target, and +mutilated it horribly amidst peals of laughter." + +"What! My wife's bust?" cried Banfi, putting his hand to his sword. "My +wife's bust did you say?" repeated he with sparkling eyes. "Ha!" he +roared, and tearing his sword from its sheath, raised his face to heaven +with an expression which no one had ever seen there before. It was like +the face of a furious tiger chained down by force, with bloodshot eyes, +thick starting veins in the forehead, and lips thirsting after blood. +"God be gracious and merciful to them!" cried he, with a terrible voice, +threw himself upon his horse, and hastened to his host. + +"My friends!" cried he, ere yet he had had time to marshal their ranks. +"A marauding swarm of hornets has fallen upon my castle and plundered +it. They have smashed everything in my rooms, emptied my stables, stolen +or destroyed my family treasures. All that troubles me little. Let the +half-starved wretches eat and drink their fill! Let them keep what they +have got! Let them rob, burn, and ravage if they will, poor devils! I am +still the master of many mansions, and can pay off this beggarly +Szekler crew out of one pocket. But they have defaced the image of my +wife!--my wife I say! Therefore will I take vengeance upon them, a +fearful vengeance. Follow me! The trees of the orchards of Bonczhida +have not borne fruit for a long time. We will now hang fruit upon them +ourselves!" + +The enthusiastic shouts of the squadrons proved that the host was ready +to follow Banfi whithersoever he might choose to lead it. The captains +marshalled their divisions, and the second flourish of trumpets had +already sounded, when a company of twelve horsemen suddenly appeared in +front of Banfi's host. In the foremost of this company they recognized +the Prince's herald, a broad-shouldered man of gigantic stature, who +boldly rode up to Banfi and his staff, and raising his escutcheoned +bton, cried--"Halt!" + +"Use your eyes! We _are_ halting!" retorted Michael Angel. + +"In the name of his Highness, the Prince, I cite you, Denis Banfi, to +appear within three days before the Privy Council at Karoly-Fehervr, +there to defend yourself as best you may against the charges brought +against you. Till then your consort remains in our hands as a hostage +for your good behaviour." + +"We _are_ coming," retorted Michael Angel; "don't you see that we are +already about to start? We only wanted to know whither, and now we know +it." + +"Silence, captain!" cried Banfi; "one must not jest with the Prince's +ambassador." + +The herald next turned to the captains. + +"This citation does not concern you. I have a very different message to +deliver to you in the Prince's name." + +"You had better keep your message to yourself, or I'll speak a word in +your ears which will make them tingle," jeered one of the captains, +aiming at the herald with his pistol. + +"Down with your weapons," exclaimed Banfi; "let him proclaim the +Prince's mandate. Give him room that he may speak freely." + +The herald rose in his stirrups, and looking along the ranks cried +aloud-- + +"The Prince forbids you from henceforth to obey Banfi! Whoever takes up +weapons for him is a traitor!" + +"You're a traitor yourself," roared Michael Angel, and the next moment +the crowd fell furiously upon the herald, with loud cries of "Kill him! +kill him!" A hundred blades flashed simultaneously over his head. + +"Hold!" cried Banfi in a voice of thunder, covering the herald with his +body; "this man's person is sacred and inviolable. To your places! +Sheathe your swords! I--your leader--command it!" + +"Eljen! eljen!" roared the brigades, and at the word of command they +fell back into their places and stood there like an iron wall. + +"You will not be very angry with me," said Banfi to the herald, who had +suddenly turned deadly pale, "you will not be very angry with me, I +hope, for making them obey me this once? Go back to the Prince and tell +him that in three days I will appear before him." + +"And tell him that we will be there too," cried the captains in chorus. + +The herald and his suite withdrew. Banfi moodily bent his head. + +The third flourish of trumpets had already sounded, and the banners were +all unfurled; but Banfi still continued staring blankly, darkly, dumbly +before him. + +"Draw your sword, my lord!" cried Angel; "place yourself at our head, +and let us start. First to Bonczhida and then to Fehervr." + +"What do you say?" said Banfi, with a start. "What is it?" + +"I say that if the law of the sword is to try you, the sword must also +be your defence." + +"And such a process is generally called _civil war_!" + +"We have not kindled it." + +"Nor will we fan it. 'Tis no longer, I see, a struggle against my +personal enemies, but against the Prince, and he is the head of the +land." + +"And are not you its right arm? If they choose to light up the flames of +civil war, we will not allow it to be quenched in your blood." + +"And why should my blood flow at all? Have I committed any capital +offence? Can I even be charged with such a thing?" + +"You are powerful, and that is a sufficient reason for killing you." + +"I care not. I'll go, and what is more, alone. My wife is in their +hands. They have the power to make me feel their wrath in the most +painful way, and if there were no other reason for appearing, it is my +knightly duty to release her." + +"You can save both her and yourself much more efficaciously by force of +arms." + +"I have nothing to fear. I have done nothing for which I need blush in +the sight of justice, and if they plot privily against me, are not you +here? Summon hither my Somlyo troops as well, and only intervene if they +practise foul play." + +"Oh, my lord! that army is good for nothing which is abandoned by its +leader. To-day it would go through fire and water for you, and is even +ready to proclaim you Prince; but to-morrow, when it hears that you have +appeared before the court, it will disperse and deny you." + +"They need know nothing of my resolution. I'll immediately take coach +and go to Fehervr. Tell the troops I've gone to Somlyo to collect my +other forces, and keep them under arms till you hear from me." + +With that Banfi rode off to Klausenburg, and Michael Angel irritably +stuck his sword into its sheath and told the troops that they might rest +if they felt tired. + + * * * * * + +An hour later Banfi was rolling in a carriage-and-four towards Torda, on +his way to Fehervr; a mounted servant led a spare horse after him by +the bridle. + +The further he withdrew from the seat of his power, the more anxious he +became. His soul wavered. He began to see phantoms at every step. Only +his pride prevented him from turning back again. + +Everything now wore a different aspect. He could read in the looks and +salutations of all whom he met what they thought of him. A smile was a +sign of compassion; a mere nod, a token of ill-will. He stopped to speak +to every one, even to very slight acquaintances, even to those whom he +had hitherto looked down upon or had never regarded at all. He even +condescended to question them. In the hour of misfortune it is wonderful +how a man recollects all his acquaintances. At such a time he who once +haughtily rejected the hand of friendship is ready to meet his very +enemy half-way. + +Suddenly he perceived an open carriage coming towards him from Torda, +and in it sat a man wrapped up in a grey cloak, in whom, as he passed, +Banfi recognized Martin Kuncz, the Unitarian bishop; he called to him to +stop for a moment. The bishop, not hearing him for the clatter of the +wheels, simply doffed his hat and drove on. Banfi thought he did it on +purpose, and took it for a very bad omen. He who ordinarily treated all +danger so lightly, now recoiled before the veriest bugbears. He stopped +his carriage, and taking horse bade his coachman drive on to Torda and +await him there. In the meantime he galloped after the bishop's +carriage, whereupon the bishop, catching sight of him, stopped and +awaited the magnate, who cried to him from a distance-- + +"So you will not answer when I speak to you, eh?" + +"I am at your lordship's command. I did not know that you wished to +speak to me." + +"You know my situation, I suppose? What do you think of it? What ought I +to do?" + +"In such a case, my lord, it is as difficult to give advice as to take +it." + +"I have resolved to appear to the citation." + +"Really, my lord?" + +"I have nothing to fear. I feel that my cause is just." + +"No doubt; but it does not follow that you will get justice because your +cause is just. In this world anything is possible." + +Banfi understood the allusion. He had formerly said the very same words +to the bishop, and now he had not even sufficient strength of mind to +leave him and go on his way defiantly; on the contrary, he dallied with +him for some time longer. + +"The Prince indeed is my enemy; but the Princess has always defended me, +and I have every confidence in her Highness." + +"Yes; but unfortunately the Prince has quarrelled with his consort. They +say that he even forbids her to enter his apartments." + +This answer seemed to quite confound Banfi; but he had still one hope +left. + +"I don't believe they'd dare to do me mischief, for they know that at +Klausenburg and Somlyo I have armies in battle array which can call them +to account at any moment." + +"Oh, my lord, it is difficult to direct an army from the walls of a +prison, and you know very well that a live dog is stronger than a dead +lion." + +These words seemed to produce a great change in Banfi. For a time he +moodily rode by Kuncz's carriage; then, after a long pause, he replied +in a very low voice--"You are right," gave his horse the spur, and rode +back to Klausenburg with the firm resolve of not allowing himself to be +enticed from his stronghold. + +On reaching the spot where scarcely six hours before he had restrained +the enthusiastic ardour of his troops, he was much surprised to find a +band of gipsies apparently searching for something on the ground. + +"What are you doing here?" cried he, as he came up to them. + +At this question their leader came forward, and recognizing Banfi, +humbly doffed his cap. + +"Verily, your Excellency, the gipsies have come hither to collect the +cartridges which the brave and noble gentlemen have scattered about +here." + +"But where then are the gentlemen?" + +"Gone, your Excellency." + +"But why, and whither?" + +"The moment they heard your lordship had quitted +Klausenburg--whew!--they dispersed in all directions." + +"And Michael Angel?" + +"He was the first to depart." + +Banfi felt sick and dizzy. The tears rushed to his eyes. To be so +abandoned by every one, by Fate, by his fellow-men, and even by his own +self-confidence! What now remained of all his former might? Whither +should he turn? What should he devise? Every way was closed against him. +Neither with the sword of justice nor with the sword of battle could he +fight. There was no hope and no refuge. + +His horse carried him whither it would. The magnate sat upon it with a +darkened face, staring blankly at the clouds or on the ground. The +earth, the sky, and his own heart--everything within him and around him +was dark and desolate. Hitherto his soul had been so full of pride that +there was no room for anything else, and now all his pride was gone, and +had left a hideous blank behind it. On, on he went; but it was his horse +that chose the road. Vast forests lay before him, and he thought--What +lies beyond those forests? Lofty hills. And what beyond the hills? Still +higher hills. And what then? The snowy peaks. And nowhere was there any +refuge or shelter for him! So at the very first stroke every one had +fallen away from him, and he who only the day before had ruled over the +half of Transylvania, and held fortresses at his disposal, cannot even +find a hut to shelter him from the night. Or shall he give himself up +to the derision of his enemies, and not even have the poor satisfaction +of meeting death with front erect and a smiling countenance? Shall he +perish ignobly like a hunted beast? He fell a-thinking. If die he must, +he would at least die like a man. But how? + +Gradually a thought began to dawn in his benighted soul, and with that +thought the colour returned to his cheeks. Slowly he raised his head, +and this secret thought ripening into a quick resolution, it was as +though a voice within him cried--"Yes! Thither! thither!" His eyes began +to sparkle, he turned his horse's head towards the forest, and +disappeared beneath the thick foliage. + + * * * * * + +The tempest is raging. The storm snaps the trees. The rain patters down, +and the swollen torrents roar. From time to time fitful lightning +flashes illumine the whole region, and snowy mountain peaks grow dark +and the black sky gleams white--and again the sky darkens and the snowy +peaks shine forth. + +The scanty patches of brushwood clinging to the bald rocks are rudely +torn and shaken by the hurricane, and the distant pine forests roar like +the last trump. Every beast crouches trembling in its den and listens to +the storm. + +Lofty, inaccessibly steep rocks shut out the horizon, and far, far down +in the vale below, like a toiling ant, we see a horseman struggling +through the pathless wilderness. + +God be merciful to him in such a night in such a place! + +It is the Devil's Garden! + + * * * * * + +A gorgeous oriental chamber opens out before us. Round about the walls +gleam hundreds of torches; but the ceiling is so lofty that it is +invisible, the light of the torches never reaches it. Two rows of +columns support the gigantic architrave, slender columns with capitals +in the shape of beasts' heads, as we are wont to see them in ancient +Persian temples. Splendid curtains fill up the interstices of the +columns. Moorish arabesques adorn the walls; the arched portals are +ablaze with gold and malachite. In the centre of the room a lofty red +velvet couch rests on four gold griffins with amethyst eyes. In front of +the couch is a little ivory table, supported by intertwining silver +snakes, and beside the table a golden censer exhales light-blue fragrant +clouds of ambergris and aloes. On the couch reclines a sylph-like girl +with languishing and yet ardent eyes. A string of pearls, dependent from +her neck, draws her light tunic up to her bosom. Her slender form is +girdled round the hips by a gorgeous oriental shawl. Her black locks are +held together by a golden fillet, which encircles her brows, and the +huge diamond clasp of this fillet flashes its myriad blinding rays +amidst her dark tresses, like a rainbow condensed into a star gleaming +through darkest night. + +The girl is alone. Everything around her is motionless. We seem to be in +an enchanted fairy palace. Nowhere a sound, a movement. + +Who would ever have thought of finding such a magic chamber in the +bowels of the earth, six hundred feet within the solid rock, on the +surface of which the storm is worrying the hardy shrubs and trees? + +It is the crypt of the Devil's Garden, and the woman, sylph or demon, +who inhabits it is Azrael. + +How can this woman live here so lonely, so far from everything human? + +And yet, why not? She is a whole world, a hell, to herself. Within the +resounding walls of the populous harem she felt herself lonely, and she +peoples this vast vault with the creations of her own wild fancy. Here +she shapes the future, forms endless plans, dreams of battles, of +intoxicating love, of more than earthly might, of new realms of which +she is the Queen, the Sun surrounded by her starry train. + +Suddenly a light trampling is heard overhead, as if some one were riding +over the vaulted roof. Azrael arises and listens. The sound of footsteps +is audible in the corridors, and presently three familiar, measured +knocks are heard at the doors. + +"'Tis he!" she whispers; springs from her couch, hastens to the door, +draws back the heavy bolts, tears the door violently open, and falls +into the arms of him who enters. + +"At last! at last!" she murmurs, twining her arms round the man's neck +and pressing her cheeks to his lips. + +The man is Denis Banfi. + +Sad, speechless, broken as he never was before, he does not even greet +the girl as he enters. He seems to freeze, all his limbs are trembling. +He has left his tiger-skin outside, but the drenching rain has soaked +him through and through. + +"Thou art wet to the skin," says the girl. "Quick! warm thyself. Thou +hast come from afar. Thou dost need repose," and dragging Banfi to her +couch, she took off his dolman, covered him with her own costly ermine +mantle, placed under his feet soft velvet cushions, which she first +warmed over the steaming censer, and pressing the man's frozen hands to +her throbbing bosom, warmed them there. + +Yet Banfi remained dumb. Misfortune seemed to be written on his +forehead. A far less practised eye, a far less penetrating genius than +Azrael's, could have seen at a glance that he was no longer the haughty +magnate he had been, but a fallen viceroy, whose fall was all the +greater because he had stood so high; who had come to her, not because +he had forsaken every one, but because every one had forsaken him; whom +not pleasure but despair had brought to this place. + +"I have been waiting for thee!" cried the girl, burying her head in +Banfi's bosom, while he played involuntarily with her rich tresses. "To +me thy absence is an eternity, thy presence but a fleeting moment." + +Not for all the world would Azrael have let Banfi perceive that she had +observed the change in him. She pushed a little round stool in front of +the couch, took up her mandolin, and began to sing with a voice of +thrilling sweetness one of those improvisations which the ardent +imagination of the East brings spontaneously to the lips, striking the +while with her fingers wild, fantastic chords. + +"If thou hast joy, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt have so much +the more. If thou hast grief, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt +have so much the less." + +Banfi looked at the odalisk with beetling brows. + +But Azrael struck fresh chords and began another song-- + +"False is the world and all that is therein! Every day the sun forsakes +the sky. Every day the sea forsakes her shores. Every year the swallow +forsakes her nest. But the maiden who loves never forsakes her beloved." + +Still Banfi remained silent. There he sat with staring, bloodshot eyes, +his head resting on his elbows, like a poor, mortally-wounded lion. + +And again the odalisk sang-- + +"If choice were thine, which wouldst thou choose--love with hell, or +heaven without love?" + +Banfi stretched out his arms towards Azrael, and as the odalisk, casting +away her mandolin, bent down to kiss his hand, he drew her to his +breast, and the odalisk, softly stroking Banfi's forehead, said-- + +"What mean these wrinkles on thy noble brow, which I have never seen +there before? Vainly do I charm them away with my kisses; they come back +again and again. Wait!--I'll cover them with this diadem. So!--how well +a kingly crown becomes thy brow!" + +Banfi uttered an inarticulate cry, tore the diadem from his head, and +hurled it far away, while with the other hand he roughly repulsed the +girl. Every line of his face proclaimed his agony of mind. The odalisk +looked into his face and could read there everything which had happened. + +This passionate outburst, however, aroused Banfi from out of his dull +despondency. He sprang from the couch, resumed with an effort his usual +proud, devil-may-care look, and raising the girl into the air cried, +with bitter, scornful mirth-- + +"Bring me wine! To-day I'll make merry! Over our heads the storm is +howling--let it howl! We'll laugh at it, eh! my pretty wench? To-day is +ours! On this one day we'll heap together everything which can bring +bliss and mad delight, so as to leave nothing for the morrow. Wine and +kisses and music--and hell-fire!" + +The girl skipped away like a chamois, and came back like a Hebe with a +large silver salver covered with gold goblets. + +"No, not the golden pocals!" cried Banfi. "They won't break when we dash +them against the wall. Serve the wine in Venetian crystals." + +The odalisk obediently brought forth the gorgeously-coloured and gilded +Venetian glasses, then so much in vogue, and pushed a broad, +short-legged table close to the couch. + +"Come, embrace me!" cried Banfi, drawing the girl to his bosom, and +gazing into her abysmal black eyes. + +"My love is an endless sea," whispered the girl, her hands resting on +Banfi's shoulder. + +"My desire is as hell itself, which drinks to the very dregs!" cried +Banfi, embracing the odalisk and pressing a burning kiss on her lips, as +if he would have drunk in her very soul. + +With that he seized the first glass that came to hand; the wine sparkled +in the torch-light. Azrael's kisses had not yet softened his heart. With +bitter scorn he raised the glass, and cried-- + +"I drink to my friends." + +He drained it to the last drop, and hurled it contemptuously against +the wall, so that it was shivered to pieces. Immediately afterwards he +seized a second glass-- + +"I drink to my enemies." + +With a wild peal of laughter he hurled the second glass into the air. In +its flight it almost reached the ceiling, but it fell back again on the +couch and did not break. + +"See, it mocks me and will not break!" exclaimed Banfi, with sparkling +eyes. + +Azrael sprang up, seized the glass, and crushed it beneath her foot. + +In Banfi's heart the flames of three passions began to mingle--wrath, +intoxication, and frantic love. + +He raised the third glass to his lips, and while the girl held his body +fast embraced, Banfi exclaimed, with flushed face and strident voice-- + +"I drink to Transylvania." + +He drained the glass, but when he took it from his lips, the smile had +frozen on his face, and instead of dashing the glass against the wall, +he placed it gently on the table. A cold shudder ran through him at his +own words--"I drink to Transylvania." + +He did not remove his hand from the glass, and would shyly have put it +aside in a safe place, when the crystal, without any visible cause, +suddenly burst in pieces, filling the magnate's hand with a million +fragments. + +The diamond ring on his finger had scratched the glass, which, as all +badly-cooled crystals are wont to do, shivered instantly at the contact, +scattering its sparkling fragments in every direction like a Bologna +flask. + +Banfi shrank shuddering back at this phenomenon and hid his face in +Azrael's bosom, as if he had seen a portentous enchantment. + +The girl, however, impetuously seized her glass and cried exultantly-- + +"I drink to our love." + +Her voice broke the spell of Banfi's sobering horror and plunged him +into frenzied joy. He caught the slim, supple body of the odalisk in his +arms, and pressed her to him with the strength of a boa-constrictor: she +was almost stifled in his embrace. + +"I know not what you have given me to drink," stammered Banfi, "but I +have lost my head. I am beside myself for love." + +"Then take heed that thou dost not faint. Long hast thou let me +languish, and I swore that when next thou camest, to murder thee in thy +sleep, so that thou mightest never forsake me more." + +"Oh, do it, do it," whispered he, and drawing his dagger from his girdle +and stretching himself at full length upon the couch, he laid bare his +breast with one hand and gave the girl the dagger with the other. + +Azrael, with demoniacal ferocity, grasped the dagger by its beryl +handle, and threw herself like an armed Fury upon Banfi, who looked at +her with a frenzied smile as the sharp edge of the dagger grazed his +breast. Then the weapon fell from the hand of the odalisk, and the +madly-distended eyes and lips resumed their languishing smile. + +"Kill me rather than forsake me," stammered the girl, embracing Banfi. + +"We'll die together, eh?" + +"Yes, yes!" + +"Jest not, Azrael. I am ready to do what I say." + +"And I am ready to die," replied the girl. "Come, I'll show thee +something,"--and with that, drawing aside the carpet, she lifted up a +trap-door, beneath which was visible through the gloom a deeper, lower +room, supported by short, stout, arched columns, close beside which a +number of large barrels had been placed. + +"Yes," said Banfi, "I know. In that cellar I have hidden the gunpowder +which I saved after John Kemeny's fall." + +"Look at this long nitrous linstock," said Azrael, drawing up the end of +a thick cotton coil out of the cellar; "the barrels are connected with +it, and many a time when thou hast been with me have I had the end of +this lunt under the cushions of my couch, and held in my couch the torch +which was to have kindled it whilst thou wert sleeping with thy head +upon my breast, and I lay and listened calmly for the explosion which +was to send us both to heaven or to hell." + +"And you were afraid to do it?" + +"Not for myself. But I reflected that thou wert not thine own but thy +country's." + +"I belong to no one now." + +"Thy mind was so full of lofty plans. Destiny chose thee to be a Prince +among men, a hero among the kings of the earth whose name should fill +the pages of history." + +"All that is over now," cried Banfi, with drunken self-forgetfulness. +"I am nobody and nothing. The vault beneath this floor is all that +belongs to me. In the world without I am a fugitive and a vagabond." + +"Ha!" hissed Azrael. "Then thy enemies have triumphed over thee?" + +"My curse be upon their heads! I had compassion upon them, so I have +perished." + +"Is Csaky also among thy persecutors?" + +"Yes; he is my most pitiless pursuer." + +"And have all thy faithful friends deserted thee?" + +"The fallen has no faithful friends." + +"Thou mightst hire mercenaries and begin the struggle anew. Thou art +rich enough." + +"My wealth has gone." + +"Thou mightst beg for help from foreign lands." + +"That would be treason against my country. I have fallen and know what +awaits me. I must die. But my enemies shall not triumph at my death as +at a festival, or laugh aloud to see me go pale and downcast to my doom. +I will die alone." + +"By Allah, thou shalt not die alone! Come, let us fill our glasses. +Accursed be the world! we'll speak of it no more. Come, stifle thy soul +in the delirium of joy, and when thy drooping head sinks down upon my +breast, I will light the end of this lunt. Thou shalt dream of bliss, of +paradise, of kisses ravished and returned; the twofold throbbing of our +hearts shall beat the minutes; here below, the stillness of death; there +above, the howling of the tempest and of thy foes; and then an +earthquaking thunder, rending and scattering the rocks, shall proclaim +to heaven and hell that none shall ever find Denis Banfi here on earth +again!" + +"Azrael, thou art a devil, and I love thee!" cried Banfi, and he clasped +the girl in his arms as if she had been a little child. + + * * * * * + +An hour has passed, and the room has grown dark. The torches are +expiring. In the huge vaulted chamber no other light is visible but the +red vapour streaming from the orifices of the censer, which gleams like +a many-eyed monster, and the burning end of the linstock, lit by Banfi +in the midst of his mad orgy, crawling slowly along the room like a +fiery serpent. + +Naught is to be heard in the deep silence but the sighs of two lovers, +and the throbbing of two hearts. + +Banfi slept long. + +Suddenly he awoke. Pitch-black darkness surrounded him. It was some time +before his reeling brain could realize where he was, or why he was +there. He felt an icy wind streaming through the room, but it was only +after a long interval that he grasped the fact that a door was open +somewhere, and that the cold night air was rushing in from outside. + +Gradually the scenes of the by-gone night and the vows of death came +back to his mind, and he felt that he still lived. "The girl has +certainly repented of her wish to die," thought he, and he began to +grope about for her. The couch was empty. + +"Azrael! Azrael!" he cried repeatedly; but there was no answer. + +At last he tottered to his feet, and snatching some embers from the +hearth, lit a torch. The solitary, feeble light did not penetrate far, +but as far as it extended Azrael was nowhere to be seen. + +The first thing he perceived was the linstock cut in two by a pair of +shears. + +"Coward soul!" he growled, and, pierced through and through by the air, +would have put on his mantle, when a roll of parchment fell at his feet, +and picking it up he recognized Azrael's handwriting, and read as +follows-- + +"My lord, you read not hearts aright. We give our love for our own +sakes, but we do not give ourselves for love's sake. You have frittered +away your power, and, deserted by all the world, think to find me +faithful who loved your power and that only: I am his who has inherited +that power. He who is in the ascendant I adore, but I hate and despise +the fallen. Corsar Beg's fate should have warned you that one day you +too might fare like him ..." + +Banfi could not read it to the end. His face grew dark with shame. "To +sink so low as this! This wretched slavish soul even while embracing me +was devising treachery! And I to wish to spend my last moments in the +arms of such a monster----" At that moment he _loathed_ himself. + +"Cowardice and infamy! A man who has lived as I have lived, to desire +such a death! He who has always been wont to meet his foes face to face, +to hide himself from them in his last moments!--to hide himself in the +arms of a slave! Shame upon him! + +"This lesson has done me good. It was meet that I who could forget a +wife who sacrificed herself to deliver me out of the hands of my +enemies, should fall into the power of a harlot who would have betrayed +me to them. Yet even now it is not too late. My life is forfeit, but at +least I can save my honour. None shall be able to boast that he has +betrayed me. My enemies shall never say that I hid myself from them and +they found me out. I'll appear before them boldly, as I ought to have +done at first." + +Full of this resolution, Banfi went straightway into the secret +courtyard, where he had left his horse. He was surprised to find it no +longer there. The odalisk had taken it away with her. + +He smiled disdainfully. + +"What matters it, so long as she has not stolen me also." + +He returned into the rocky chamber, rekindled the lunt, came out, and +closing the iron door behind him made his way along the banks of the +cold Szamos. + +Towards midday he sat down on the bank to rest, and he had scarcely been +there a quarter of an hour, when he heard the trampling of horses, and +looking up--the bushes completely concealed him--beheld Ladislaus Csaky +and Azrael on horseback, side by side, at the head of an armed band. The +girl seemed to be pointing out something to Csaky on the rocks above, +and the worthy gentleman was beside himself for joy. + +Banfi smiled scornfully. + +"Poor Tartars!" + +As soon as the band had passed by, Banfi continued his journey. He had +not gone far when he came upon a poor peasant cleaving wood. + +"Dost know whither that armed band has gone?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir. They have gone to capture Denis Banfi, on whose head a great +price has been set." + +"How much?" + +"If a noble capture him he will receive an estate, if a peasant, two +hundred ducats." + +"Little enough, but enough for you, I dare say. I am Denis Banfi." + +The peasant took off his cap. + +"Does my lord wish to be led anywhither?" + +"Lead me to the place where they will pay you two hundred ducats." + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour afterwards a tremendous explosion resounded +through the mountains, which shook the earth for half-a-mile around. The +enchanted garden of the Gradina Dracului had collapsed into an +inaccessible chaos. + +Csaky had fortunately lingered on the road, or he and his company would +have perished utterly. + +On returning, he found Banfi already under arrest, and was thus deprived +of the glory of having captured his foe with his own hand. He +immediately hastened to accost him, and, with exquisite malice, brought +with him the odalisk, who looked at Banfi as if she had never seen him +before. + +Banfi, however, since his voluntary surrender, had quite resumed his +former sangfroid, and looking contemptuously over his shoulder at Csaky, +said-- + +"So your Excellency means in future to wear my cast-off clothes, eh?" + +At this bitter jest Azrael hissed like a snake upon whose tail one has +suddenly trodden, whilst Csaky blushed up to his ears and tried hard to +smile. + +"Does your Excellency desire any favour from me?" asked Csaky presently, +with insulting commiseration. + +"None from _your_ Excellency. I came here of my own free will, and have +been arrested I know not why. My wife, therefore, can now be set free." + +"So at last we begin to whine for our wife, eh?" + +"On the contrary. So far from wishing to meet her, I desire that as soon +as I am put in prison she should be let go." + +"It shall be as you desire, my lord!" replied Csaky, with ironical +benevolence. + +Banfi requited him with a look of the most withering contempt, and +turning to the jailers entered into conversation with them: the magnates +he no longer regarded. + + * * * * * + +When Teleki heard of the capture of Banfi, he ordered him to be sent at +once to Bethlen Castle, to make the world believe that the anti-Banfi +faction was headed, not by him, but by Beldi, to whom the castle +belonged. + +On his way thither, the captive magnate learnt that his consort had +already been released, and thus relieved of his one remaining anxiety, +cared little for the rest. + +On reaching Bethlen Castle he was received by the Rev. Stephen Pataky, +Rector of Klausenburg, to whom he cried jocosely-- + +"So they've appointed you my father confessor, eh?" + +Pataky wept bitterly, but Banfi only smiled. + +The jailer conducted Banfi up the steps with every demonstration of +respect. + +Banfi turned round to him. + +"I hope you will let Reverend Master Pataky remain with me all the +time?" said he. + +Pataky was understood to say through his sobs-- + +"Truly your Excellency will find far better company awaiting you than +any my poor self can offer." + +Banfi, not knowing what to say to this, only shrugged his shoulders and +hastened towards the door of his prison, but remained standing on the +threshold transfixed with astonishment. In the room was a lady in deep +mourning, who turned very pale on perceiving him, and clung to the table +unable to utter a word. + +Banfi felt all his blood rush to his heart. The next moment he darted +impetuously forward and cried-- + +"My wife! Margaret!" + +The lady threw herself upon her husband's breast and sobbed aloud. + +"What! have they not released you?" inquired Banfi anxiously. + +"I would not be released," answered Margaret. "How _could_ I forsake you +in your prison?" + +The tears came to Banfi's eyes. Speechless he sank to the ground, and +covered her hands with glowing kisses. + +"While we were what the world calls happy we might avoid each other," +said Margaret, with a choking voice, "but misfortune has brought us +together again," and she bowed her head to kiss her husband's forehead. + +Banfi fell senseless at her feet. It was more than even his strong soul +could bear. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE SENTENCE. + + +The Diet, hastily summoned to Fehervr, strongly disapproved of the +secret proceedings against Banfi. Paul Beldi was the first to declare +that even if Banfi could be arrested by means of a league, a Diet was +the only tribunal which could try him, and insisted that he should have +every opportunity of defending himself. + +The Prince came to the Diet with red eyes, an aching head, and a very +irritable temper--the usual witnesses of a drunken debauch. + +Teleki, finding the Diet beyond his control, got Apafi to dissolve it, +by persuading him that if Banfi were brought before it he would escape +altogether, and even turn the two-edged sword of justice against the +Prince himself. + +In the Privy Council itself, Kozma Horvath's opposition to the +extra-judicial prosecution was all in vain. The league drew up +thirty-seven articles of accusation against Banfi, and the magnate was +impeached. + +Most of these articles were so utterly frivolous as to need no reply. +Banfi's real offence was his pretension to the throne, and this they +dared not bring forward at all. + +Banfi manfully replied on every count. In vain. Defend himself as he +might, his adversaries knew only too well how much they had offended +him: they could not afford to let him live. + +The matter came to the vote. + +Banfi was condemned to death. + +On the day when this took place, no one could get at the Prince except +the members of the league, who were constantly going in and out of +Apafi's apartments with hasty steps and eager faces. + +Towards evening they succeeded in bringing the besotted Prince to sign +the sentence. It was no longer possible to recognize in the +spectre-haunted drunkard the mild and gentle Prince, who had had a tear +for the sorrows of the meanest of his servants. + +Saddled horses and long rows of carriages had been standing before the +castle gates since midday. Suddenly Ladislaus Csaky came very hastily +out of the castle with a document hidden in the folds of his pelisse, +and calling for his horse, mounted, nodded significantly to the other +gentlemen who had followed him out, and galloped away. The other +gentlemen thereupon leapt into their carriages, or on to their horses, +with as much expedition as if some one was pursuing them, and exchanging +hurried whispers, decamped so swiftly that in a few moments the Prince +was left entirely alone. + +Teleki was the last who quitted him. The Prince accompanied the minister +to the very end of the ante-chamber. Black care was written in his face. +He would hardly let Teleki go. + +Teleki coldly withdrew his hand from the Prince's grasp. + +"You have no need to brood over it, sir. It is not a question of the +life of a man, but of the welfare of a state. If my own neck had stood +in the way, I would have said, Hew it off! I say the same when it is +another's." + +With that he took his leave. + +Apafi could not remain in his room. He was obliged to go out into the +fresh open air. Inside something seemed to choke him, the air was so +oppressive--or was it his own conscience? He went into the garden. The +cool night air soothed his throbbing head; the sight of the starry +heaven did good to his darkened soul. Leaning over the balcony, he +looked amazedly out into the quiet night, as if he expected a star +larger than all the rest to fall from heaven, or some one miles and +miles away to call him by name. + +Suddenly a scream fell on his ear. + +He looked around with a shudder, and terror made him speechless--before +him stood his consort, whom his counsellors had kept away from him for +weeks. + +The moment the last magnate had departed, her own faithful servants told +her that the Prince had signed the death-warrant, and the terrified +woman, breaking through the castle guards, rushed after Apafi, found him +in the garden, seized him roughly, and shrieking rather than speaking in +her agitation, exclaimed-- + +"Oh, accursed, accursed wretch! Thou hast shed innocent blood!" + +Apafi tried to avoid his wife. He feared her. + +"What do you want with me?" he asked in a hollow voice. "What do you +mean?" + +"You have signed Banfi's death-warrant." + +"I!" cried Apafi feebly, trying to catch hold of his wife's hand. + +"Away with that hand, monster! It is stained with my kinsman's blood." + +"Then you don't consent to it?" stammered the abject creature. "Neither +did I, but the magnates constrained me." + +The Princess smote her hands together, and looked at her consort +despairingly. + +"You have brought blood on our family! You have brought a curse on the +land and on me! Oh, why did I not let you perish in the hands of the +Tartars? Where you are concerned virtue itself becomes a sin." + +Apafi was crushed. Alone with his wife, he was something less than a +man. + +"I did not wish to kill him," he blurted out, "nor do I now; and if you +wish it, I'll reprieve him. Here, take my signet-ring. Send a horseman +after Csaky to Bethlen Castle. Reprieve your cousin and leave me in +peace." + +"What ho, there! Who is without?" shrieked the Princess. + +The domestic servants came pouring in, headed by the pantler. + +"Take four of the Prince's swiftest horses with you," cried Anna, as she +wrote out the pardon with her own hand and made her husband sign and +seal it. "Take this letter and hasten to Bethlen Castle. If one of the +horses falls under you, take the others. Stop not an instant on the +road! A man's life is in your hands!" + +The grooms led forward the swift horses; the pantler swung himself into +the saddle, and, leading the other three horses by the bridles, galloped +away. + +The Princess impatiently followed him with her eyes till he was out of +sight, and then went up to her room again; but unable to rest there +long, she came down once more, sent for her faithful old servant Andrew, +and giving him an old piece of green velvet,[56] set him on horseback +and sent him after the pantler. + + [Footnote 56: Green velvet was the symbol of the + princely dignity in Transylvania.] + +"If the Prince's reprieve arrives too late, this will be a cere-cloth +wherein to wrap the murdered man." + + * * * * * + +The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Paul Beldi called his +chief groom, bade him mount his swiftest horse, ride to Bethlen Castle, +and inform the castellan there that he would cut his head off if the +slightest harm happened to Banfi at Bethlen. He too dared not face his +wife at that moment. + + * * * * * + +The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Michael Teleki pressed +the hand of his future son-in-law Tkli, and whispered in his ear, "We +are a step nearer." And beneath the pressure of the youth's iron hand, +the engagement ring which knitted him to Teleki's daughter snapped in +two, and Teleki took it as an omen[57] that, one day, the hand of this +youth would be stronger than his own. + + [Footnote 57: The omen was justified when, nearly + thirty years later, Tkli defeated and slew Teleki at + the battle of Zernyes, 1691.] + + * * * * * + +That night all Transylvania was greatly disturbed. Farkas Bethlen could +not sleep in his bed all night. Stephen Apor was so unwell that he had +to send for his confessor, and Kornis lost himself so completely on his +way home that he was forced to sleep in his carriage. + +And what was going on in heaven? Towards midnight a storm arose, the +like of which the oldest men could not call to mind. The lightning set +forests and castles on fire; the falling clouds drove the rivers out of +their beds. The alarm bells resounded everywhere. God sat in judgment +over the land that night. The whole population was sleepless. + + * * * * * + +Only the reconciled consorts slept calmly. + +With one arm under her husband's head and the other embracing him, the +pale and fragile lady fell asleep. At times she wept in her dreams, and +her tears fell on the pillow. She was dreaming of her happy bridal days, +and of that sweet moment when she had laid her first and only child in +her husband's arms, and she pressed him more closely to her, while he +lay sleeping there so calmly, at enmity with the world, but reconciled +to himself and to the better-half of his soul. Happiness, which had fled +him in his palace, sought him out in his dungeon. + +The night lamp cast its pale rays on the sleeping forms. + + * * * * * + +Through that terrible night, four horsemen, scarcely a thousand paces +apart, are galloping at full speed towards Bethlen Castle. During the +lightning flashes they sometimes catch a glimpse of each other, and then +each of them digs his spurs more deeply into his horse's sides. + +The first horseman reaches the castle gate and winds the signal horn. +The drawbridge sinks groaning down; the horseman springs into the +courtyard and places a letter in the hands of the flurried castellan. It +is Paul Beldi's messenger. + +The horseman who next arrives at the castle orders the gates to be +opened in the name of the Prince. He hands the castellan a second +letter. It is Ladislaus Csaky. + +The castellan grows pale as he reads this letter. + +"My lord," says he, "I have just received a message from Paul Beldi, +threatening us with death in case any harm befalls the prisoner." + +"You have your choice," answered Csaky. "If you obey me, Beldi may +perhaps cut off your head to-morrow; but if you don't obey me, I'll cut +off your head myself this instant." + +The trembling castellan bowed submission. + +"Up with the drawbridge!" commanded Csaky. "None must enter this castle +without my permission. Whoever acts against my orders is a dead man!" + + * * * * * + +The spouses lay tranquilly sleeping in each other's arms. A minute later +the door creaked on its hinges, and the Rev. Stephen Pataky, tearful and +terrified, entered the dungeon. His heart died within him when he saw +the consorts sleeping so calmly side by side. + +He stepped up to Banfi to rouse him. As he touched his hand, Banfi +awoke, and perceiving Pataky, who could not speak for emotion, tried to +disengage his head from his wife's encircling arm without awakening her. +At that very moment Lady Banfi opened her eyes. Pataky, wishing to +conceal the fatal message from her, addressed Banfi in the Latin +tongue-- + +"_Surge Domine! sententia lethalis adest!_"[58] + + [Footnote 58: Arise, sir, the death-warrant has come!] + +Lady Banfi, terrified by these mysterious words, the meaning of which +Pataky's face so ill concealed, asked in mortal fear what was the +matter. + +"Nothing, my darling! nothing!" said Banfi, embracing her with a tender +smile. "A pressing message which I must attend to at once. I'll be back +again soon! Lie down and sleep gently!" + +With these words he persuaded his wife to fall back upon her pillow, +kissed her repeatedly with great tenderness, and soothed her caressingly +between each kiss--"My soul! my delight! my love! my heaven!" + +The wife little suspected that this was the parting kiss of a man about +to meet his doom; Banfi looked at her so smilingly, feigning a joyful +countenance as he stood on the threshold of death. + +Then the castle horn again sounded. The Princess's first messenger had +arrived, and demanded admittance in her Highness's name. + +Csaky rushed hastily up-stairs, and just as Banfi, after half reassuring +his consort, was about to quit her, suddenly burst open the door, and +cried-- + +"Why so long a leave-taking? Get ready! The sentence stays for +execution!" + +Lady Banfi with a piercing scream rose from her couch, and stretching +out both her arms towards Banfi, gazed speechlessly at him for a moment, +then, clutching at her heart, fell back dead upon her pillow with +wide-open eyes. + +Banfi looked at his enemy with the bitterness of death, his streaming +eyes hurled more curses at him than any lip could have uttered. + +"Base, cowardly wretch!" he moaned, "was it then part of your mandate to +murder my wife also?" + +Csaky turned his head away, and said in a hoarse voice-- + +"Hasten! the time is short!" + +"Short for me, but it shall be long for you! For a time is coming when +you will curse the day of your birth, and will not be able to die as +calmly as I do!--Leave me!--I would fain pray; but I cannot call upon my +God while you are nigh!" + +Csaky, overcome despite himself, quitted the room. + +Banfi laid his hand on his forehead and prayed. + +Outside the heavens were thundering. + +"O God! who dost thunder on high, take my blood as a sacrifice for my +sins, but let not a drop of it fall on the heads of those who shed it! +Suffer not my native land to pay the price of my blood! Guard this poor +land from every ill! Visit not this people in Thy anger, but be their +refuge and their sure defence in the evil day! Forgive my enemies my +death, as I forgive them!" + +The thunder roared terribly. God was wroth that day. He would not +hearken to such a prayer. + +"Is your Excellency ready?" inquired Csaky impatiently, whilst the +Princess's messengers hammered furiously at the gates, and demanded +instant admission. + +Banfi stepped up to his lifeless consort and kissed her cold, pale face +for the last time; then, turning calmly to Csaky, he said-- + +"Yes; I am ready now!" + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour later Csaky admitted the messengers. + +"What do you bring?" he asked the pantler. + +"The Prince's pardon for the prisoner." + +"You are too late!--And you?" + +"A cere-cloth for the corpse!" + +"You have brought it very opportunely." + +The highest head of the Transylvanian nobility had already fallen in the +dust. + + * * * * * + +The tragedy ends with the hero's death. + +The tide of history brings other shapes and other leaders to the +surface. The fate, the fashion, and the history of Transylvania are no +longer the same.[59] The sword-stroke which slew Banfi cut short an +epoch only half begun. The body of that dominating form reposes in the +crypt of the church at Bethlen, and no one has inherited his spirit. + + [Footnote 59: The subsequent fortunes of Apafi, Csaky, + Teleki, Tkli, Azrael, and Feriz are related in + Jokai's second historical novel, _Trkvilag + Magyarorzagbn_ (_The Turks in Hungary_), which is a + sequel to the present story, and ends with the collapse + of the Turkish power in Hungary.] + +But the chronicles say that whenever danger threatens Transylvania, the +blood of the buried patriot flows from his simple tomb, a terror to the +people, and a wonder to the world. + + +THE END. + + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, +LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + + +11, HENRIETTA STREET, W.C., +_May, 1894._ + +BOOKS +PUBLISHED BY +CHAPMAN & HALL, LD. +(A SELECTION.) + + +=Adams (Henry), M.I.C.E., etc.= + +=BUILDING CONSTRUCTION.= Key to Examinations of Science and Art +Department. 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[_In the Press._ + + +=Lineham (Mrs. Ray S.).= + +THE STREET OF HUMAN HABITATIONS. Fully Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Little (The Rev. Canon Knox).= + +THE WAIF FROM THE WAVES: a Story of Three Lives, touching this World and +another. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +THE CHILD OF STAFFERTON. Twelfth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in +cloth, 1s. 6d. + +THE BROKEN VOW. Seventeenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in cloth, +1s. 6d. + + +=Lloyd (W.W.)=, _late 24th Regiment_. + +ON ACTIVE SERVICE. Printed in Colours. Oblong 4to, 5s. + +SKETCHES OF INDIAN LIFE. Printed in Colours. 4to, 6s. + + +=McDermott (P.L.)=, _Assistant Secretary_. + +BRITISH EAST AFRICA: A History of the Formation and Work of the Imperial +British East Africa Company. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Macdonald (F.A.).= + +OUR OCEAN RAILWAYS; or, the Rise, Progress, and Development of Ocean +Steam Navigation, etc, etc. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Malleson (Col. G.B.), C.S.I.= + +THE LIFE OF WARREN HASTINGS. [_In the Press._ + +PRINCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 6s. + +LOUDON. A Sketch of the Military Life of Gideon Ernest, Freiherr von +Loudon. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Mallock (W.H.).= + +A HUMAN DOCUMENT. One Volume. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Marceau (Sergent).= + +REMINISCENCES OF A REGICIDE. Edited from the Original MSS. of SERGENT +MARCEAU, Member of the Convention, and Administrator of Police in the +French Revolution of 1789. By M.C.M. SIMPSON. With Illustrations and +Portraits. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Maskell (Alfred).= + +RUSSIAN ART AND ART OBJECTS IN RUSSIA. A Handbook to the Reproduction of +Goldsmith's Work and Other Art Treasures. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + + +=Maskell (William).= + +IVORIES: ANCIENT AND MEDIVAL. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +HANDBOOK TO THE DYCE AND FORSTER COLLECTIONS. With Illustrations. 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Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Mitre (General Don Bartolom)=, _first Constitutional President of the +Argentine Republic_. + +THE EMANCIPATION OF SOUTH AMERICA. Being a Condensed Translation, by +WILLIAM PILLING, of "The History of San Martin." With Maps. Demy 8vo, +12s. + + +=Molesworth (W. Nassau).= + +HISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE YEAR 1830 TO THE RESIGNATION OF THE +GLADSTONE MINISTRY, 1874. Twelfth Thousand. 3 vols. Crown 8vo, 18s. + +ABRIDGED EDITION. Large crown, 7s. 6d. + + +=N'Zau (Bula).= + +CONGO FREE STATE AND ITS BIG GAME SHOOTING, TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES. +Illustrated from the Author's sketches. Demy 8vo. [_In the Press._ + + +=Nesbitt (Alexander).= + +GLASS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=O'Byrne (Robert), F.R.G.S.= + +THE VICTORIES OF THE BRITISH ARMY IN THE PENINSULA AND THE SOUTH OF +FRANCE from 1808 to 1814. An Epitome of Napier's History of the +Peninsular War, and Gurwood's Collection of the Duke of Wellington's +Despatches. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Oliver (Professor D.), LL.D., F.L.S., F.R.S.= + +ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL NATURAL ORDERS OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM, +prepared for the Science and Art Department of Council of Education. +With 109 Coloured Plates by W.H. FITCH, F.L.S. New Edition. Royal 8vo, +16s. + + +=Oliver (E.E.)=, _Under-Secretary to the Public Works Department, +Punjaub_. + +ACROSS THE BORDER; or, PATHAN AND BILOCH. With numerous Illustrations by +J.L. KIPLING, C.I.E. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Papus.= + +THE TAROT OF the BOHEMIANS. The most ancient book in the world. For the +exclusive use of the Initiates. An Absolute Key to Occult Science. With +numerous Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Paske (Surgeon-General C.T.) and Aflalo (F.G.).= + +THE SEA AND THE ROD. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + + +=Paterson (Arthur).= + +A PARTNER FROM WEST. A Novel. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Payton (E.W.).= + +ROUND ABOUT NEW ZEALAND. Being Notes from a Journal of Three Years' +Wandering in the Antipodes. With Twenty Original Illustrations by the +Author. Large crown 8vo, 12s. + + +=Pierce (Gilbert).= + +THE DICKENS DICTIONARY. A Key to the Characters and Principal Incidents +in the Tales of Charles Dickens. New Edition, uniform with the "Crown" +Edition of Dickens's Works. Large crown, 5s. + + +=Perrot (Georges) and Chipiez (Chas.).= + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN GREECE. With about 500 Illustrations, 2 +vols. [_In the Press._ + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PERSIA. With 254 Illustrations and 12 Steel +and Coloured Plates. Imperial 8vo, 21s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHRYGIA--LYDIA, CARIA, and LYCIA. With 280 +Illustrations. Imperial 8vo, 15s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN SARDINIA, JUDA, SYRIA, AND ASIA MINOR. With +395 Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 36s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHOENICIA AND ITS DEPENDENCIES. With 654 +Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 42s. + +A HISTORY OF ART IN CHALDA AND ASSYRIA. With 452 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s. + +A HISTORY OF ART IN ANCIENT EGYPT. With 600 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s. + + +=Pollen (J.H.).= + +GOLD AND SILVER SMITH'S WORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +ANCIENT AND MODERN FURNITURE AND WOODWORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Pollok (Colonel)=, _Author of "Sport in British Burma_." + +INCIDENTS OF FOREIGN SPORT AND TRAVEL. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo. +[_In the Press._ + + +=Poole (Stanley Lane), B.A., M.R.A.S.= + +THE ART OF THE SARACENS IN EGYPT. Published for the Committee of Council +on Education. With 108 Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Poynter (E.J.), R.A.= + +TEN LECTURES ON ART. Third Edition. Large crown 8vo, 9s. + + +=Pratt (Robert).= + +SCIOGRAPHY, OR PARALLEL AND RADIAL PROJECTION OF SHADOWS. Being a Course +of Exercises for the use of Students in Architectural and Engineering +Drawing, and for Candidates preparing for the Examinations in this +subject and in Third Grade Perspective. Oblong quarto, 7s. 6d. + + +=Pushkin (A.S.).= + +QUEEN OF SPADES, THE, and OTHER STORIES. With a Biography. Translated +from the Russian by MRS. SUTHERLAND EDWARDS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d. + + +=Rae (W. Fraser).= + +AUSTRIAN HEALTH RESORTS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. A New and Enlarged Edition. +Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=RAPHAEL=; his Life, Works, and Times. By EUGENE MUNTZ. Illustrated with +about 200 Engravings. A New Edition, revised from the Second French +Edition. By W. ARMSTRONG, B.A. Imperial 8vo, 25s. + + +=Redgrave (Gilbert).= + +OUTLINES OF HISTORIC ORNAMENT. Translated from the German. Edited by +GILBERT REDGRAVE. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Redgrave (Richard), R.A.= + +MANUAL OF DESIGN. With Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + +ELEMENTARY MANUAL OF COLOUR, with a Catechism on Colour. 24mo, cloth, +9d. + + +=Redgrave (Samuel).= + +A DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF THE HISTORICAL COLLECTION OF WATER-COLOUR +PAINTINGS IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. With numerous +Chromo-lithographs and other Illustrations. Royal 8vo, 1 1s. + + +=Renan (Ernest).= + +THE FUTURE OF SCIENCE: Ideas of 1848. Demy 8vo, 18s. + +HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL. + +FIRST DIVISION. Till the time of King David. Demy 8vo, 14s. + +SECOND DIVISION. From the Reign of David up to the Capture of Samaria. +Demy 8vo, 14s. + +THIRD DIVISION. From the time of Hezekiah till the Return from Babylon. +Demy 8vo, 14s. + +RECOLLECTIONS OF MY YOUTH. Translated from the French, and revised by +MADAME RENAN. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Riao (Juan F.).= + +THE INDUSTRIAL ARTS IN SPAIN. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +4s. + + +=Roberts (Morley).= + +IN LOW RELIEF: A Bohemian Transcript. Second Edition. 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Crown 8vo, +5s. + + +=Ryan (Charles)=, _Late Head Master of the Ventnor School of Art_. + +EGYPTIAN ART. An Elementary Handbook for the use of Students. With 56 +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Schauermann (F.L.).= + +WOOD-CARVING IN PRACTICE AND THEORY, AS APPLIED TO HOME ARTS. Containing +124 Illustrations. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Seeman (O.).= + +THE MYTHOLOGY OF GREECE AND ROME, with Special Reference to its Use in +Art. From the German. Edited by G.H. BIANCHI. 64 Illustrations. New +Edition. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Seton Karr (H.W.), F.R.G.S., etc.= + +BEAR HUNTING IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS; or, Alaska and British Columbia +Revisited. Illustrated. Large crown, 4s. 6d. + +TEN YEARS' TRAVEL AND SPORT IN FOREIGN LANDS; or, Travels in the +Eighties. Second Edition, with additions and Portrait of Author. 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Edited by GEORGE AITCHISON, A.R.A., +Professor of Architecture at the Royal Academy of Arts. 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Ward (R.).= + +SUPPLEJACK: A Romance of Maoriland. With 8 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Watson (John).= + +POACHERS AND POACHING. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + +SKETCHES OF BRITISH SPORTING FISHES. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d. + + +=White (Walter).= + +A MONTH IN YORKSHIRE. With a Map. Fifth Edition. Post 8vo, 4s. + +A LONDONER'S WALK TO THE LAND'S END. With 4 Maps. Third Edition. Post +8vo, 4s. + + +=Wiel (Hon. Mrs.).= + +CHURCH EMBROIDERY--DESIGNS FOR. By A.R. Letterpress by the HON. MRS. +WIEL. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 4to. [_In the Press._ + + +=Wolverton (Lord).= + +FIVE MONTHS' SPORT IN SOMALILAND. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo. + + +=Woodgate (W.B.).= + +A MODERN LAYMAN'S FAITH. Concerning the Creed and the Breed of the +"Thoroughbred Man." Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Wornum (R.N.).= + +ANALYSIS OF ORNAMENT: THE CHARACTERISTICS OF STYLES. With many +Illustrations. Ninth Edition. Royal 8vo, cloth, 8s. + + +=Worsaae (J.J.A.).= + +INDUSTRIAL ARTS OF DENMARK, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE DANISH +CONQUEST OF ENGLAND. With Maps and Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Wotton (Mabel E.).= + +A GIRL DIPLOMATIST. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Wrightson (Prof. John)=, _President of the College of Agriculture, +Downton_. + +PRINCIPLES OF AGRICULTURAL PRACTICE OF AN INSTRUCTIONAL SUBJECT. With +Geological Map. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 5s. + +FALLOW AND FODDER CROPS. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + + + +CHARLES DICKENS'S WORKS. + +CROWN EDITION, COMPLETE IN 17 VOLS. + +Printed on good paper, from type specially cast for this Edition, and +containing + +_All the Illustrations by Seymour, Phiz (H.K. 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With Twenty-four Illustrations by +Cruikshank, and Sixteen by Phiz. + +=Bleak House.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Little Dorrit.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Our Mutual Friend.= With Forty Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=American Notes; Pictures from Italy=; and =A Child's History of England=. +With Sixteen Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Christmas Books= and =Hard Times=. With Sixty-seven Illustrations by +Landseer, Maclise, Stanfield, Leech, Doyle, F., Walker, etc. + +=Christmas Stories and Other Stories=, including =Humphrey's Clock=. With +Illustrations by Dalziel, Charles Green, Mahoney, Phiz, Cattermole, etc. + +=Great Expectations; Uncommercial Traveller.= With Sixteen Illustrations +by Marcus Stone. + +=Edwin Drood= and =Reprinted Pieces=. With Sixteen Illustrations by Luke +Fildes and F. Walker. + + +_Uniform with above in size and binding._ + +=The Life of Charles Dickens.= By JOHN FORSTER. With Portraits and +Illustrations. Added at the request of numerous subscribers. + +=The Dickens Dictionary=: a Key to the Characters and Principal Incidents +in the Tales of Charles Dickens. + +=The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices=; =No Thoroughfare=; =The Perils of +Certain English Prisoners=. By CHARLES DICKENS and WILKIE COLLINS. With +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +*** These Stories are now reprinted in complete form for the first +time. + + + + +CHARLES DICKENS'S WORKS. + +HALF-CROWN EDITION. + +_This Edition contains the whole of Dickens's Works, with reproductions +of all the original Illustrations._ + +Printed from the Edition that was carefully corrected by the Author in +1867 and 1868. Crown 8vo. + +PRICE TWO SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE EACH VOLUME. + + +=The Pickwick Papers.= With Forty-three Illustrations by Seymour and Phiz. + +=Barnaby Rudge=: a Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty. With Seventy-six +Illustrations by-George Cattermole and H.K. Browne. + +=Oliver Twist.= With Twenty-four Illustrations by George Cruikshank. + +=The Old Curiosity Shop.= With Seventy-five Illustrations by George +Cattermole and H.K. Browne. + +=David Copperfield.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Nicholas Nickleby.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Martin Chuzzlewit.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Dombey and Son.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Sketches by Boz.= With Forty Illustrations by George Cruikshank. + +=Christmas Books.= With Sixty-three Illustrations by Landseer, Doyle, +Maclise, Leech, etc. + +=Bleak House.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Little Dorrit.= With Forty Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Christmas Stories=, from "Household Words." With Fourteen Illustrations +by Dalziel, Green, Mahoney, etc. + +=American Notes= and =Reprinted Pieces=. With Eight Illustrations by Marcus +Stone and F. Walker. + +=Hard Times= and =Pictures from Italy=. With Eight Illustrations by F. +Walker and Marcus Stone. + +=A Child's History of England.= With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Great Expectations.= With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Tale of Two Cities.= With Sixteen Illustrations by Phiz. + +=Uncommercial Traveller.= With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Our Mutual Friend.= With Forty Illustrations by Marcus Stone. + +=Edwin Drood= and =Other Stories=. With Twelve Illustrations by Luke Fildes. + + +=THE ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION.= + +Complete in 30 vols., with the Original Illustrations, demy 8vo, 10s. +each; or Sets, 15. + +=LIBRARY EDITION.= + +Complete in 30 vols., with the Original Illustrations, post 8vo, 8s. +each; or Sets, 12. + +=THE "CHARLES DICKENS" EDITION.= + +In crown 8vo, in 21 vols., cloth, with Illustrations, 3 16s. + +=THE CABINET EDITION.= + +In 32 vols., small fcap. 8vo, marble paper sides, cloth backs, with +uncut edges, 1s. 6d. each. Each Volume contains 8 Illustrations +reproduced from the Originals. + + + + +THOMAS CARLYLE'S WORKS. + +=THE ASHBURTON EDITION.= + +An entirely New Edition, handsomely printed, containing all the +Portraits and Illustrations; in 17 vols., demy 8vo, 8s. each. + +=LIBRARY EDITION.= + +Handsomely printed in 34 vols., demy 8vo, cloth, 15 3s. + +=PEOPLE'S EDITION.= + +37 vols., small crown 8vo, 37s.; separate vols., 1s. each. + + +=Sartor Resartus.= With Portrait of Thomas Carlyle. + +=French Revolution=: a History. 3 vols. + +=Oliver Cromwell's Letters & Speeches.= 5 vols. With Portrait of Oliver +Cromwell. + +=On Heroes and Hero Worship and the Heroic in History.= + +=Past and Present.= + +=Critical and Miscellaneous Essays.= 7 vols. + +=The Life of Schiller, and Examination of His Works.= With Portrait. + +=Latter-Day Pamphlets.= + +=Wilhelm Meister.= 3 vols. + +=Life of John Sterling.= With Portrait. + +=History of Frederick the Great.= 10 vols. + +=Translations from Musus, Tieck, and Richter.= 2 vols. + +=The Early Kings of Norway; Essay on the Portrait of Knox.= + + +Or in Sets, 37 vols. in 18, 37s. + + +A RE-ISSUE OF THE WORKS OF CARLYLE. + +Price 2s. 6d. each. + +This Edition will include the whole of his Writings and Translations, +together with the Portraits and Maps, strongly bound in cloth, and will +be + +COMPLETED IN 20 CROWN 8vo VOLUMES. + + +THE VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED ARE: + +=Sartor Resartus, and Latter-Day Pamphlets.= With a Portrait of Thomas +Carlyle. + +=Past and Present, and On Heroes and Hero Worship.= + +=Life of John Sterling, and Life of Schiller.= With Portraits. 1 vol. + +=Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, Early Kings of Norway, and Essay on +the Portraits of Knox.= 4 vols. + +=French Revolution: a History.= 2 vols. + + +_To be followed by:--_ + +=Oliver Cromwell's Letters & Speeches.= With Portrait of Oliver Cromwell. +3 vols. + +=History of Frederick the Great.= With Maps. 5 vols. + +=Wilhelm Meister.= 2 vols. + +=Translations from Musus, Tieck, and Richter.= 1 vol. + + + + +GEORGE MEREDITH'S WORKS. + +A Uniform Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. and 6s. each. + + +=One of Our Conquerors.= + +=Diana of the Crossways.= + +=Evan Harrington.= + +=The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.= + +=The Adventures of Harry Richmond.= + +=Sandra Belloni.= + +=Vittoria.= + +=Rhoda Fleming.= + +=Beauchamp's Career.= + +=The Egoist.= + +=The Shaving of Shagpat=; and =Farina=. + + +F.M. EVANS AND CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, CRYSTAL PALACE, S.E. + + + +Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected. + +In Part I, Chapter I, "that Joki alludes to" was changed to "that Jkai +alludes to". + +In Chapter II, "the hinds see to their cattle" was changed to "the hands +see to their cattle". + +In Chapter III, "write his letter in own way" was changed to "write his +letter in his own way". + +In Chapter VII, a quotation mark was added after "on some one else's +shoulders." + +In Chapter VIII, "Arzael laughs aloud" was changed to "Azrael laughs +aloud". + +In Part II, Chapter II, "Behind the iconastastis" was changed to "Behind +the iconastasis". + +In Chapter III, "horses with flesh-cloured manes" was changed to "horses +with flesh-coloured manes". + +In Chapter VII, "the security of the whole realm are at stake" was +changed to "the security of the whole realm is at stake". + +In Chapter IX, "called away to Sombyo" was changed to "called away to +Somlyo", and "her husband from Sombyo" was changed to "her husband from +Somlyo". + +In the advertisements, numerous minor punctuation and spelling errors +were corrected, "Freicherr von Loudon" was changed to "Freiherr von +Loudon", and "BELUCHISTAN" was changed to "BALUCHISTAN". + +There are numerous cases of inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation +in the original text. Except as noted above, these inconsistencies have +been retained. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's 'Midst the Wild Carpathians, by Mr Jkai + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + +***** This file should be named 37339-8.txt or 37339-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/3/3/37339/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Midst the Wild Carpathians + +Author: Mr Jkai + +Translator: R. Nisbet Bain + +Release Date: September 7, 2011 [EBook #37339] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="330" height="500" alt="'Midst the Wild Carpathians by Dr. Jókai Mór" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h1>'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS</h1> + +<p class="center">("AZ ÉRDÉLY ARÁNY KÓRA")</p> + +<p class="center">BY<br /><span class="bigtext">MAURUS JÓKAI</span></p> + +<p class="center">TRANSLATED BY<br /><span class="bigtext">R. NISBET BAIN</span><br /> +FROM<br />THE FIRST HUNGARIAN EDITION</p> + +<p class="center">Authorised Version</p> + +<p class="center">LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, <span class="smcap">Ld.</span><br /> +1894<br /> +[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,<br /> +London & Bungay.</span></p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION.</h2> + + +<p>Hungarians regard <i>Az Érdély arány kora</i> as, on the whole, the best of +Jokai's great historical romances, and, to judge from the numerous +existing versions of it, foreigners are of the same opinion as +Hungarians. Few of Jokai's other tales have been translated so often, +and the book is as great a favourite in Poland as it is in Germany. And +certainly it fully deserves its great reputation, for it displays to the +best advantage the author's three characteristic qualities—his powers +of description, especially of nature, his dramatic intensity, and his +peculiar humour.</p> + +<p>The scene of the story is laid among the virgin forests and inaccessible +mountains of seventeenth-century Transylvania, where a proud and valiant +feudal nobility still maintained a precarious independence long after +the parent state of Hungary had become a Turkish province. We are +transported into a semi-heroic, semi-barbarous borderland between the +Past and the Present, where Mediævalism has found a last retreat, and +the civilizations of the East and West contend or coalesce. Bizarre, +gorgeous, and picturesque forms flit before us—rude feudal magnates and +refined Machiavellian intriguers; superb Turkish pashas and ferocious +Moorish bandits; noble, high-minded ladies and tigrish odalisks; +saturnine Hungarian heydukes, superstitious Wallachian peasants,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> savage +Szeklers, and scarcely human Tartars. The plot too is in keeping with +the vivid colouring and magnificent scenery of the story. The whole +history of Transylvania, indeed, reads like a chapter from the <i>Arabian +Nights</i>, but there are no more dramatic episodes in that history than +those on which this novel is based—the sudden elevation of a country +squire (Michael Apafi) to the throne of Transylvania against his will by +order of the Padishah, and the dark conspiracy whereby Denis Banfi, the +last of the great Transylvanian magnates, was so foully done to death.</p> + +<p>In none of Jokai's other novels, moreover, is the individuality of the +characters so distinct and consistent. The gluttonous Kemeny, who +sacrificed a kingdom for a dinner; the well-meaning, easy-going Apafi, +who would have made a model squire, but was irretrievably ruined by a +princely diadem; his consort, the wise and generous Anna, always at hand +to stop her husband from committing follies, or to save him from their +consequences; the crafty Teleki, the Richelieu of Transylvania, with +wide views and lofty aims, but sticking at nothing to compass his ends; +his rival Banfi, rough, masterful, recklessly selfish, yet a patriot at +heart, with a vein of true nobility running through his coarser nature; +his tender and sensitive wife, clinging desperately to a brutal husband, +who learnt her worth too late; the time-serving Csaky, as mean a rascal +as ever truckled to the great or trampled on the fallen; Ali Pasha and +Corsar Beg, excellent types of the official and the unofficial Turkish +freebooter respectively; Kucsuk Pasha, the chivalrous Mussulman with a +conscience above his creed; the renegade spy Zülfikar, groping in +slippery places after illicit gains, and always falling on his feet with +cat-like agility; and, last of all, that marvellous creation, Azrael, +the demoniacal Turkish odalisk, blasting all who fall within the +influence of her irresistible glamour, a Circe as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> sinuously beautiful +and as utterly soulless as her own pet panther—all these personages of +a, happily, by-gone age are depicted as vividly as if the author had +known each one of them personally.</p> + +<p>Finally, the book contains some of Jokai's happiest descriptions, and in +this department it is generally admitted that the master, at his best, +is unsurpassable. The description of the burning coal-mine in <i>Fekete +Gyemantok</i>, of the Neva floods in <i>A szabadság a hó alatt</i>, of the +plague in <i>Szomoru napok</i>, or of the Danube in all its varying moods in +<i>Az arány ember</i>, stand alone in modern fiction; yet can any of these +vivid tableaux compare with the wonderful account of Corsar Beg's aërial +fairy palace, poised on the top of the savage Carpathians, or with the +glowing picture of the gorgeous harem of Azrael, or with the fantastic +scenery of the Devil's Garden, with its ice-built corridors, snow +bridges, boiling streams, fathomless lakes, and rushing avalanches?</p> + +<p class="sig2">R. N. B.</p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table class="figcenter" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="book"><span class="bigtext"><a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I.</a></span><br /> +BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum smalltext">CHAP.</td> +<td class="chapname smalltext"> </td> +<td class="chappage smalltext">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">I.</td> +<td class="chapname">A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_I">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">II.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_II">18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">III.</td> +<td class="chapname">A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_III">27</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IV.</td> +<td class="chapname">A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IV">37</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">V.</td> +<td class="chapname">BODOLA</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_V">45</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VI.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZÖLLÖS</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VI">57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VII.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE PRINCESS</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VII">70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VIII.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE PERI</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VIII">85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IX.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IX">105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="book"><span class="bigtext"><a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK II.</a></span><br /> +THE DEVIL'S GARDEN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">I.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE PATROL</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_I">125</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">II.</td> +<td class="chapname">SANGE MOARTE</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_II">135</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">III.</td> +<td class="chapname">AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_III">155</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IV.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IV">173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">V.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_V">189</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VI.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVÁR</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VI">197</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VII.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE JUS LIGATUM</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VII">210</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VIII.</td> +<td class="chapname">DEATH FOR A KISS</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VIII">218</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IX.</td> +<td class="chapname">CONSORT AND CONCUBINE</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IX">228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">X.</td> +<td class="chapname">THE SENTENCE</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_X">257</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<h2><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH.</span></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="MIDST_THE_WILD_CARPATHIANS" id="MIDST_THE_WILD_CARPATHIANS"></a>'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS.</h2> + +<h2><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_I" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666.</span></h2> + + +<p>Before us lies the valley of the Drave, one of those endless +wildernesses where even the wild beast loses its way. Forests +everywhere, maples and aspens a thousand years old, with their roots +under water; magnificent morasses the surface of which is covered, not +with reeds and water-lilies, but with gigantic trees, from the dependent +branches of which the vivifying waters force fresh roots. Here the swan +builds her nest; here too dwell the royal heron, the blind crow, the +golden plover, and other man-shunning animals which are rarely if ever +seen in more habitable regions.</p> + +<p>Here and there on little mounds, left bare during the long summer +drought by the receding waters, sprout strange and gorgeous flowers, +such perhaps as the earth has not brought forth since the Flood +overwhelmed her. In this slimy soil every blade of grass shoots up like +gigantic broom; the funnel-shaped convolvuluses and the evergreen +ground-ivy put forth tendrils as stout and as strong as vine branches, +which, stretching from tree to tree, twine round their stems and hang +flowery garlands about the dark, sombre maples, just as if some +hamadryad had crowned the grove dedicated to her.</p> + +<p>But it is only when evening descends that this realm of waters begins to +show signs of life. Whole swarms of water-fowl then mount into the air, +whose rueful, monotonous croaking is only broken by the melancholy +piping of the bittern and the whistle of the green turtle. The swan, +too, raises her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> voice and sings that melodious lay which now, they tell +us, is only to be heard in fairy-land,—for here man has never yet trod, +the place is still God's.</p> + +<p>Now and again, indeed, sportsmen of the bolder sort presume to penetrate +far into this pathless labyrinth of bush and brake; but they are forced +to wind their way among the trees in canoes which may at any moment be +upset by the twisted tangle of roots stretching far and wide beneath the +water, and it is just in these very places that the swamp is many +fathoms deep; for although the dark green lake-grass and the yellow +marsh-flowers, with the little black-and-red efts and newts darting +about among them, seem close enough to be reached by an outstretched +hand, they are nevertheless all under water deep enough to go over the +head of the tallest man.</p> + +<p>In other places it is the dense thicket which bars the canoe's way. +Fallen trees, the spoil of many centuries, but untouched by the hand of +man, lie rotting there in gigantic heaps. The submerged trunks have been +turned to stone by the water, and the roots of the lake-grass, the +filaments of the flax-plant, and the tendrils of the clematis have grown +together over them, forming a strong, tough barrier just above the water +which rocks and sways without giving way beneath one's feet. The knotty +clout-like film of the lake, stretching far and wide, seems, to the +careless eye, a continuation of this barrier, but the treacherous +surface no longer bears—one step further, and Death is there. This +unknown, unexplored region has however but few visitors.</p> + +<p>Southwards, the wilderness is bounded by the river Drave. The trees +which line its steep banks dip over into its waves. Not unfrequently the +fierce stream sweeps them into its bed and away, to the great peril of +all who sail or row upon its waters.</p> + +<p>Northwards, the forest extends as far as Csakatorny, and where the +morass ends oaks and beeches of all sorts flourish. In no other part of +Hungary will you meet with trees so erect and so lofty. The wide waste +abounds with all sorts of game. The wild boars, which wallow in the +swampy ground there, are the largest and fiercest of their kind. The red +deer too is no stranger there, and huge, powerful, and courageous you +will find him; nay, at that time, even gigantic elks showed themselves +occasionally, and made nocturnal incursions into the neighbouring +millet-fields of Totovecz; but at the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> attempt to lay hands upon +them, they would throw themselves into the innermost swamps, whither it +was impossible to follow them....</p> + +<p>On one of the brightest days of the year in which our story begins, a +numerous hunting-party was bustling about an old-fashioned hunting-box +which then stood on the borders of the forest.</p> + +<p>The first rays of the sun had scarcely pierced through the thick +foliage, when the grooms and kennel-keepers led out the hunters by their +bridles and the hounds in leashes, which sprang yelping up to the +shoulders of their keepers in joyful anticipation of the coming sport. +The huge store-wagons, each drawn by from six to ten oxen, have already +gone on before to fixed rallying-places, whither all the quarry is to be +carried. The villagers for miles round have been enlisted as beaters, +and stand together in picturesque groups armed with axes, pitch-forks, +and occasional muskets. A few smaller groups have been posted at regular +intervals along the wood, with canoes made from the trunks of trees. +Their duty is to scare the game back from the swamp, should it turn +thither for refuge. Every man, every beast shows signs of that +precipitancy, that ardour, that restlessness by which the true huntsman +is always distinguishable; only a few of the older hands find time to +sit by the fire and roast slices of bacon with perfect equanimity.</p> + +<p>At last comes the signal for departure, the blast of a horn from the +porch of the hunting-box; the retinue spring shouting upon their +snorting horses; the unruly, barking pack drag the kennel-men hither and +thither; the huntsmen wind up their heavy shooting muskets, and every +one stands in eager expectation of their lord and his noble guests.</p> + +<p>They have not long to wait. A cavalcade, with a few attendant pages, +descends the hill. Foremost rides a tall, muscular man—the lord of the +manor—the rest, as if involuntarily, linger some little way behind him. +His broad shoulders and superbly-arched chest indicate herculean +strength; his sun-burnt features are wonderfully well preserved, not a +wrinkle is to be seen on them; his short clipped beard and his shaggy +moustache, which is twisted sharply upwards, give his face a martial +expression, and his very pronounced aquiline nose and coal-black, bushy +eyebrows lend him a haughty, dictatorial air; while the dreamy cut of +his lips, his mild, oval, blue eyes and high, smooth forehead throw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> a +poetic shimmer over his peculiarly chivalrous countenance. A round, +unembroidered hat, surmounted by an eagle's plume, covers his +closely-cropped hair; his upper garment is a simple green, shaggy +jacket, which he wears open, thus allowing you a glance at his +under-garment, a white buckskin dolman,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> trimmed with silver braid. By +his side hangs a broad scimitar in an ivory sheath, and the +mother-of-pearl handle of a crooked Turkish dagger peeps forth from a +scarlet girdle richly set with precious stones.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Dolman.</i> An Hungarian pelisse. A more magnificent kind, +worn only on state occasions, is called the <i>attila</i>.</p></div> + +<p>The pair which ride immediately behind him consists of a young cavalier +and a young Amazon. The cavalier can scarcely have counted more than +two-and-twenty summers, the lady seems even younger. A better-assorted +couple you could find nowhere.</p> + +<p>The youth has smiling, gentle, pallid features; rich chestnut-brown +locks fall over his shoulders; a slight moustache just shades his upper +lip; an eternal smile, nonchalance, not to say levity, are mirrored in +his bright blue eyes; but for his brawny arms and his stalwart frame, +the iron muscles of which protrude at the slightest movement through his +tight-fitting dolman, you might take him for a child. His head is +covered by a kalpag<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> of marten skin with a heron's plume in it; his +dress is of heavy twisted silk stuff; down from his shoulders hangs a +splendid tiger's skin, the claws meeting together round his neck in a +gorgeous sapphire agraffe. He rides a pitch-black Turkish stallion, +whose shabrack, richly embroidered with golden butterflies, is plainly +the work of a gentle lady's hand.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Kalpag</i> or <i>Calpak</i>. A tall, skin cap of Tartar origin, +part of the Hungarian national costume.</p></div> + +<p>The Amazon, over whom the youth bends from time to time (doubtless to +whisper some sweet compliment in her ear), is his very antithesis, and +perhaps for that very reason tallies so well with him.</p> + +<p>Hers is an earnest, dauntless, energetic countenance; her eyes are +brighter than garnets; she loves to pout a little and arch her bushy but +delicate eyebrows, which lend a proud expression to her features, and +when she raises her flashing eyes and her coral-red lips expand into a +peculiar enthusiastic smile, a heroine stands before you whose head, +heart, and arm are as strong as any man's. Her jasper-black, braided +locks, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> fall half-way down her shoulders, are surmounted by an +ermine kalpag, from the top of which waves a gorgeous plume of +bird-of-paradise feathers. A light, lilac robe, meet for an Amazon, +clings tightly to her slim waist, and sweeps down in ample, majestic +folds over the flanks of her rose-white Arab. This robe is unbuttoned in +front, so as to leave free her heaving bosom, which is covered right up +to the neck with lace frills. Her short sleeves, richly trimmed with +batiste, are fastened by intertwining gold cords. Over her left foot, +which rests upon the stirrup, the long robe is thrown carelessly back, +presenting us with a glimpse of her white satin, padded petticoat, and +one of her little feet in its red morocco shoe. Her snow-white arms are +half protected by silk embroidered buckskin gloves, which do not quite +conceal the velvety skin, and the play of the well-developed muscles. +Both form and face rather demand our homage than our love. A smile +rarely rests on those features; the glance of her large, dark, sea-deep +eyes rests from time to time upon the youth who is bending over her, and +then there beams from them such witchery, such tenderness—yet all the +while her face is without a smile. A loftier, nobler longing is then +visible on her face, a longing deeper than love, higher than the desire +of fame—perhaps it is that self-consciousness of great souls who +foresee that their names will be an eternal remembrance.</p> + +<p>Behind the loving pair, ride side by side two cavaliers who, to judge +from their dress, belong to the higher nobility. One of them is a man of +about thirty, with a long, glistening black beard; he sits upon a +full-blood Barbary charger, with a white star upon its forehead; the +other is a sallow man advanced in years, whose long, light moustache is +already touched with grey; an astrachan cap covers his high, bald, +wrinkled forehead; his beard is carefully clipped, and his dress almost +ostentatiously simple. No lace adorns his jacket, no fringe of any sort +sets off the caparison of his good steed; his neckerchief, which peeps +out of his dolman, might almost be considered shabby.</p> + +<p>This man does not appear to stand very high in the estimation of his +companion, and marks of annoyance at the neglect he suffers are plainly +visible on his shrewd, not to say crafty, features. The reader would do +well to study this man's face, for we shall often meet with him. Cold, +withered features, thin fair hair and beard speckled with grey; a +pointed, double chin; disdainful, contracted lips; keen and lively, +red-rimmed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> sea-green eyes; projecting eyebrows; a lofty, bald, shining +forehead which, beneath the play of his emotions, becomes furrowed with +wrinkles in all directions. This face we must not forget; the +others—the herculean horseman, the laughing youth, the stately +Amazon—will only flit across our path and disappear; but he will +accompany us all through our story, pulling down and building up +wherever he appears, and holding in his hands the destinies of great men +and great nations.</p> + +<p>The bald-pate drew nearer to the cavalier trotting by his side, who was +balancing his spear in one hand as if to test it, and said to him in a +low tone, as if continuing a conversation already begun—</p> + +<p>"So you will not interfere in the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Pray don't trouble me with politics now," replied the other, with a +gesture of angry impatience. "You cannot live a day without planning or +plotting; but pray spare me for to-day! I want to hunt now, and you know +how passionately I love the chase."</p> + +<p>With these words he gave his horse the spur, galloped forward, and +caught up the herculean horseman.</p> + +<p>The other bit his lips angrily at this roughish flout, but immediately +turned with a smile towards the youthful cavalier ambling in front of +him.</p> + +<p>"A splendid morning, my lord! Would that our horizon were only as serene +in every direction!"</p> + +<p>"It is indeed," returned the youth, without exactly knowing what he was +saying, whilst his heroine bent over him with a darkening face, and +whispered—</p> + +<p>"I don't know how it is, but I am always suspicious of that man. He is +continually asking questions, but never answers any himself."</p> + +<p>At this moment the stately cavalier reached the hunting-party, returned +their boisterous greetings, and halted close to them.</p> + +<p>"David!" cried he to an old grey-bearded huntsman, who at once stepped +forth, cap in hand.</p> + +<p>"Put on your cap! Have the beaters taken their places?"</p> + +<p>"Every one is in his place, my lord! I have also sent canoes into the +swamp to scare back the game."</p> + +<p>"Bravo, David! you know your business. And now set off with the dogs and +the huntsmen, and strike into the path which we usually take. Our little +company will be sufficient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> for my purpose. We mean to cut our way +straight through the forest."</p> + +<p>A murmur of surprise and incredulity began to spread among the huntsmen.</p> + +<p>"Your pardon, gracious sir!" returned the old huntsman, who now took off +his cap a second time, "but I know that way, and it is no good way for a +god-fearing man. The impenetrable thicket, the bottomless waters, the +sticky slime present a thousand dangers, and then there is the wide +Devil's-dyke which goes right across the forest: no horse or horseman +has ever leaped that dyke."</p> + +<p>"We at any rate, my worthy old fellow, will go for it; we have done +worse bits than that ere now. He who follows me will not come to grief; +don't you know that I am Fortune's favourite?"</p> + +<p>The old huntsman donned his plumed cap, and set out on his way with the +others.</p> + +<p>But now the bald-pate rode up to the hero's side.</p> + +<p>"My lord!" remarked he calmly, but not without a touch of sarcasm, "I +hold it a great blunder for a man to jeopardize his life for nothing, +especially when he may turn it to good account. I know indeed that say +and do are one with your lordship; but pray be so good as to cast a +glance around, and you will perceive that we are not all men here; one +of that sex is among us whom it were cruelty to expose to certain peril +for the mere love of adventure."</p> + +<p>During this speech, the hero gazed fixedly, not at the speaker but at +the Amazon, and the fiery pride on his cheeks flamed up still higher +when he saw how contemptuously the stately girl measured her unsolicited +advocate from head to foot, and with what haughty self-confidence she +chose a dart, adorned with ostrich feathers, from a bundle carried by a +page, and then like a defiant matador planted the shaft firmly upon her +saddle-bow.</p> + +<p>"Look at her, now!" cried the hero. "Is that the girl you are so fearful +about? I tell you, sir, she is my niece!"</p> + +<p>The hero's exalted words rang far and wide through the forest like a +peal of bells. There was, at that time, no voice in Hungary like his; so +thunderous, so deep, and yet so melodious and penetrating.</p> + +<p>The Amazon permitted the cavalier who had called her his niece to +embrace her slim waist; she even allowed him to kiss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> her rosy red +cheeks: in those days an Hungarian girl used to blush even when the kiss +came from a kinsman's lips.</p> + +<p>"Not in vain does my blood flow in her veins! Ha, ha! For valour I'll +match her with the best of men. Have no fear for her! The time is coming +when she will face greater perils than any of to-day, and still hold her +own."<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The Amazon was Helen Zrinyi. She married first the young +cavalier with whom we now meet her, Francis Rakoczy, and subsequently +the famous Emerich Tököly, whose acquaintance we shall make presently. +Her spirited defence of the fortress of Mohacz, 1689, against the +Emperor is well known.</p></div> + +<p>After these prophetic words, the rider pressed his spurs into his +horse's sides; the wounded beast plunged and reared, but the pressure of +a knee as hard as steel quickly brought it to reason.</p> + +<p>"Follow me!" cried he, and the picturesque little group dashed after him +into the depths of the forest.</p> + +<p>Let us anticipate them. Let us go whither the stag rests at noonday in +the shady groves, whither the heron bathes and the turtle basks in the +sun.</p> + +<p>What habitations are these which rise up before us, built upon piles, in +groups of five and six, between the waters and the wilderness, little +huts carved out of the stumps of trees with round, clay-plastered, +red-thatched roofs? Who has built that dam there, so that the water may +never fall too far below the thresholds of those tiny houses? Here dwell +the diligent beavers whom Nature herself has taught the art of building. +This is their colony. 'Tis they who have gnawed through the thick trees +with their teeth; they who have brought those logs hither; they who have +thrown up a bank to make a dam, and watch over its safety all the year +round. Look there! One of them has just glided out of the lowest storey +of his dwelling, which is under the water. With what mild and gentle +eyes he looks around him! He has never yet seen man!</p> + +<p>Let us go on further. In the shadow of an old hollow tree rests a family +of stags. A buck and a doe with her two little fawns.</p> + +<p>The buck has come forward into the sunlight; his stately form seems to +give him pleasure; he licks his smooth, shiny coat again and again; +softly scratches his back with his branching antlers, and struts about +with a proud, self-confident air, daintily raising his slender legs from +time to time: the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> undulating movements of his slim and supple form show +off to the best advantage the play of his elastic muscles.</p> + +<p>The doe lies lazily in the rank grass. From time to time she raises her +beautiful head, and looks with her large black eyes so feelingly, so +lovingly at her companion or at her sportive little ones, and if she +perceives they have strayed too far, she utters an uneasy, plaintive +sort of whine, whereupon the little creatures come bounding back to her +helter-skelter, frisking and gambolling about their dam; they cannot +keep still for a moment, all their limbs quiver and shake, and all their +movements are so graceful, so lively, and so lovely.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the buck stands motionless and utters a low cry. He scents +danger and raises his nose on high; his distended nostrils sniff the air +in every direction; he scratches up the ground uneasily with his feet; +runs round and round in a narrow circle with lowered head, and shakes +his antlers threateningly. Once more he stands perfectly still. His +protruding eyes betoken the terror which instinctively seizes him. All +at once he rushes towards his companion; with an indescribable sort of +gentle whine they rub noses together; they too have their language in +which they can understand each other. The two fawns instantly fly in +terror to their mother's side; their tender little limbs are trembling +all over. Then the buck disappears into the forest, but so warily that +the sound of his footsteps is scarcely audible. The doe however remains +in her place, licking her terrified young (which return these maternal +caresses with their little red tongues), and hastily raising her head +and pricking up her ears at the slightest sound.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she springs up. She has heard something which no human ear +could have distinguished. In the far, far distance the forest rings with +a peculiar sound. That sound is familiar to huntsmen. The hounds are now +on the track. The beating-up has begun. The doe throws uneasy glances +around her, but ends by quickly lying down in her place again. She knows +that her companion will return, and that she must wait for him.</p> + +<p>The chase draws nearer and nearer. Presently the buck comes noiselessly +back, and turns with a peculiar kind of squeak towards his mate, who +immediately springs up and scuds away with her young ones obliquely +across the line of the beaters. The buck remains behind a little while +longer, and tears up the ground with his antlers, either from fury, or +on purpose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> to efface all traces of his mate's lair. Then he stretches +out his neck and begins to yelp loudly, imitating the barking of the +hounds, so as to put them on a wrong track, a stratagem which, as old +hunters will tell you, is often practised by the more cunning sort of +stags. Then, throwing back his antlers, he disappears in the direction +taken by his mate.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer come the beaters. The crackling of the down-trodden +brushwood and the shouts of the armed men mingle with the barking of the +dogs. The forest suddenly teems with life. Startled by the cries of the +pursuers, scores and scores of hares and foxes dart away among the trees +in every direction. Sometimes a panting fox makes for an open hole, but +bounds back terrified before the fiery eyes of the badger which inhabits +it. Here and there a grey-streaked wolf skulks along among the +scampering hares, standing still, from time to time, with his tail +between his legs, to look round for some place of refuge, and then, as +the pursuing voices come nearer, running off again with a dismal howl.</p> + +<p>And yet no one pursues these animals; the huntsmen are after a greater, +a nobler prey, a stag with mighty antlers. The beaters draw nearer and +nearer; the dogs are already on the track; the blast of a horn indicates +that they are hard upon the stag.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah, hurrah!" resounds from afar. The beaters, advancing from +different directions, halt and fall into their places, completely +barring the way. The din of the hunt approaches rapidly.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards, a peculiar rustling noise is heard. The hunted +stags, with their young ones, break through the thicket and disappear. A +broad chasm lies between them and the beaters. Quick as lightning, both +the noble beasts bound over the fallen tree-stumps which lie in the way, +and reach the chasm. The pursuit is both before and behind, but the +danger is greatest from behind, for there the herculean hero, the bold +Amazon, and the ardent Transylvanian huntsman head the chase. The buck +leaps across the broad chasm without the slightest effort, raising both +feet at the same time and throwing back his head; the doe also prepares +for the leap, but her young ones shrink back in terror from the dizzy +abyss. At this the poor doe collapses altogether; her knees give way +beneath her, and bowing her head she remains beside her young. A dart, +hurled by the Transylvanian huntsman, pierces the animal's side. The +wounded beast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> utters a piteous cry, resembling the moan of a human +being, but much more horrible. Even her slayer, moved by sudden +compassion, forbears to touch her till she has ceased to suffer.</p> + +<p>The two kids remain standing mournfully beside their dead dam, and allow +themselves to be taken alive.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the flying buck, shaking his heavy antlers with frenzied +rage, rushes with bloodshot eyes upon the beaters who bar his way. The +beaters, well knowing what this generally mild and timid beast is +capable of in his valiant despair, throw themselves with one accord to +the ground so as to allow him a free passage. A few of the dogs, indeed, +go at him; but the now furious animal gores them with his antlers, hurls +them bleeding to the ground, and then dashes off towards the swamps.</p> + +<p>"After him!" roars the hero, in a voice of thunder, and he urges his +horse towards the chasm over which the stag has just flown.</p> + +<p>"Help, Jesu!" cry the terrified beaters on the opposite side; but the +next moment their terror is changed to boisterous joy; the horse with +his bold rider has come safely across.</p> + +<p>Of the whole of his suite only two dared to imitate him, the stately +Amazon and the gentle stripling. Both horses flew over the abyss at the +same moment; the lady's long velvet robe flapped the air like a banner +during the leap, and she threw a proud look behind her as if to inquire +whether any man was bold enough to follow her.</p> + +<p>Their suite thought it just as well not to risk their necks over such a +piece of foolhardiness. Only the young Transylvanian made a dash at the +chasm, although, as his horse had already injured one of its hind legs +in the forest, he might have been quite sure that it was unequal to such +an effort. Fortunately for him, just before the leap his saddle-girth +burst and he was pitched across the chasm, just managing to scramble up +the bank on the other side. His good steed, less fortunate, was only +able to reach the opposite margin with its front feet; and after a wild +and hopeless struggle, fell crashing back into the abyss below.</p> + +<p>The three riders alone pursued the flying stag, which, now that he had +got clear away, drew his pursuers after him into the marsh-lands. The +hero was close upon his heels; the Amazon and her cavalier trotted a +little on one side, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> the forest was very dense here, and prevented +them from going forward abreast. At last the stag forced his way into +the thick reed-grown fens and took to the water, with the hero still in +hot pursuit. The youthful riders were also on the point of plunging +among the reeds, when two hideous, black monsters, fiercely snorting, +suddenly confronted them. They had fallen foul of a brood of wild swine. +The loathsome beasts had been lying, deaf to everything around them, in +their bed of trampled reeds and slush, and only became aware of the +presence of strangers when the youth's horse, in bounding over them, +trampled to death a couple of the numerous litter that lay crouching by +the side of the sow. The rest of the speckled little pigs scattered +squeaking among the reeds, while the two old ones, savagely grunting, +advanced to the attack. The sow fell at once upon the slayer of her +little ones; but the boar remained, for a moment, on his haunches; his +bristles stood erect; he pricked up his ears, gnashed his tusks +together, then, wildly rolling his little bloodshot eyes, rushed at the +Amazon with a dull roar.</p> + +<p>The youth flung his javelin at the sow from afar with a steady hand. The +dart whirred through the air and then stuck fast, upright and quivering, +in the horny skull of the impetuous beast, the point piercing to the +very brain. The sow, not unlike a huge unicorn, ran forward a little +distance; but its eyes had lost their sight, and it staggered past the +rider only to fall down dead without a sound, a little distance off.</p> + +<p>The lady calmly awaited the furious boar. She held her dart with a +reversed grasp, point downwards, and drew tight her horse's reins. The +noble steed stood perfectly motionless, but he pointed his ears, threw a +sidelong glance at the boar, and at the very instant when the rabid +beast had passed beneath the horse's belly, and was about to rip it +asunder with a powerful upward heave of his gleaming tusks, the +well-trained charger suddenly reared and sprang over his assailant; at +the same instant the Amazon deftly stooped and hurled her dart deep +between the shoulder-blades of the wild boar.</p> + +<p>The mortally-wounded beast sank bellowing down into the long grass. Once +more he would have rushed upon the girl, but the youth sprang, quick as +light, from his horse, and gave him the <i>coup de grâce</i> with his dagger.</p> + +<p>At that moment the blast of a horn was heard in the distance. The hero +had brought down the stag. The other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> horsemen, who now overtook the +leaders of the chase (but only after making a wide circuit), welcomed +the hero of the day with loud cries of "Eljen!"<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Eljen!</i> = Long live!</p></div> + +<p>The herculean horseman was mud-stained from head to foot, nor did the +others look much better; only the Amazon's robe was spotless and untorn. +Even at such times a girl knows how to take care of her clothes!</p> + +<p>When the hero beheld the wild beast slain by his niece, which, as it lay +stretched out stark and stiff before him, looked even larger than +life-size, he was at first deeply affected, as if he now, for the first +time, fully recognized the greatness of the peril to which his darling +had been exposed, and he exclaimed, not without alarm—"My Nelly!" but +immediately afterwards he stretched out his hand towards her with a +smile, and gazed round triumphantly upon the bystanders.</p> + +<p>"Did I not say she had my blood in her veins?"</p> + +<p>Every one hastened to pay an appropriate compliment to the radiant +heroine, who appeared to experience, on this occasion, something of that +peculiar satisfaction which only belongs to the lucky huntsman.</p> + +<p>The hero again looked proudly around till his eye fell upon the young +Transylvanian, who was now sitting on a fresh horse. Him he at once +accosted, and pointing to the dead boar asked—</p> + +<p>"Nicolas, my son! prithee tell me, does Transylvania produce such boars +as that?"</p> + +<p>Now, not to mention that the Transylvanian was already somewhat sore on +account of his recent mishap, it was not to be expected that he, a +Transylvanian born and bred, would for a single moment permit the +assumption that any natural product of Hungary was superior to the like +product of Transylvania to pass unchallenged, so he answered defiantly—</p> + +<p>"Most certainly, and even finer ones."</p> + +<p>Nothing at that moment could have more mightily offended the questioner +than this curt answer. What! to tell an enthusiastic huntsman that he +will find elsewhere game even finer than what he has just been lauding +to the skies; game, too, which the darling of his heart has just slain! +It was simply outrageous.</p> + +<p>"Very well, my son, very well," growled the hero; "we shall see, we +shall see!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>With obvious marks of annoyance on his face, he turned away from his +contradictor, and ordered that the quarry should be conveyed at once to +the hunting-box. Not another word did he exchange with any one but his +Nelly; but her he literally overwhelmed with compliments and caresses.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>It was already late in the afternoon when the hunters sat them down to a +simple but tasty repast spread upon a huge and level grass-plot in the +midst of the wood. Wine and merry jests soon set everything right again; +they talked of everything at the same time, of war and the chase, of +beautiful dames, of poetry (a fashionable subject then amongst the +higher classes), and of the intrigues of courts; but even after all this +blithe discourse the hero could not quite forget his grievance, and +again he inquired impatiently—</p> + +<p>"So there really is excellent sport in Transylvania?"</p> + +<p>The young Transylvanian began to feel this perpetual harping on the same +string a little tiresome. He had never meant to be taken so literally. +The bald-pate, remarking the growing tension, sought to change the +conversation, and raising his beaker proposed the following toast—</p> + +<p>"God keep the Turks in a good humour."</p> + +<p>But the hero angrily overturned his glass.</p> + +<p>"God grant no such thing!" cried he savagely. "I'm not going to pray for +the goggle-eyed dogs now, after fighting against them all my days. The +man who is always trying to change masters is a fool."</p> + +<p>"Yet the Turk is a very gracious master to us," put in the young +Transylvanian, with an ambiguous smile.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha! didn't I say so? With you, even Turks are bigger and finer than +they are with us. Of course! of course! In Transylvania everything +flourishes better than in Hungary: the boars are bigger, the Turks are +daintier, than they are in this part of the country."</p> + +<p>At this moment David, the old huntsman, approached the hero and +whispered something in his ear. The hero's features brightened as if by +magic, and springing from his seat he cried—"Give me my gun!" then, +holding his long, silver-mounted musket in his hand, he turned towards +his guests with a radiant countenance. "All of you stay here. There is a +colossal boar close at hand. You shall see him, my son," added he, +tapping Nicolas on the shoulder. "Twice already have I vainly pursued +the fellow; this time I mean to catch him. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> is, I assure you, a +descendant in the flesh of the Calydonian boar"—and with that, carried +away by his enthusiasm, he hastened towards that part of the wood which +the old huntsman had pointed out to him. David he presently ordered +back: nobody was to accompany him.</p> + +<p>"I know not how it is," whispered Helen to the youth at her side, "but I +have a foreboding that my uncle is in danger. How I wish you were by his +side!"</p> + +<p>The youth said nothing in reply, but he instantly stood up and seized +his gun.</p> + +<p>"Pray don't go after him," remarked the Transylvanian, when he saw the +young man about to hasten off. "You will only enrage him. He wants to do +the whole business himself, and a man who has exterminated hordes of +Tartars can easily dispose of a single brute beast."</p> + +<p>And so they kept the youth back from going. The men went on drinking, +and the lady remained in a brown study, glancing uneasily, from time to +time, at the skirts of the wood.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a shot resounded through the forest.</p> + +<p>Every one put down his glass and glanced at his neighbour with a beating +heart.</p> + +<p>A few moments passed and then they heard the roar of a wild beast; but +it was not the well-known roar of a mortally-wounded boar—no, it was a +peculiar, gurgling, half-stifled sound that told of a fierce struggle.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" was the question which rose to every one's lips. "Surely +he would call out if he were in danger!" Then came a second shot. Every +one instantly sprang to his feet. "What was that?" they cried. "Oh! let +us go! let us go!" exclaimed the girl, trembling in every limb, and the +whole company hastened in the direction of the shot.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Our hero had scarcely advanced four or five hundred paces into the +thicket when, at the foot of a mighty oak, he came upon the wild beast +he sought. It was a gigantic boar, with span-long, glistening black +bristles on its back and forehead; the tough hide lay, like plated +armour, in thick folds about its huge neck; its feet were long and +sinewy. Lazily grunting, it was making for itself a bed beneath the +bushes in which its shapeless body was stretched out at full length, and +it had found a place for its enormous head by rooting out with its tusks +bushes as thick as a man's arm.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>On hearing approaching footsteps, the monster irritably raised its head, +opened wide its jaws, and cast a sidelong glance at its assailant.</p> + +<p>Our hero knelt upon one knee so as to take better aim, and fired at the +wild beast just as it suddenly raised its head, so that the bullet +pierced its neck instead of its skull, wounding it seriously but not +mortally.</p> + +<p>The wounded boar instantly sprang from its lair, and gnashing its +crooked tusks together so that sparks flew from them, rushed upon its +foe. It would not have been difficult to have avoided such a furious +attack by a skilful side-spring; but our hero was not the man to get out +of any opponent's way; so he threw his gun aside, tore his dagger from +its sheath, faced the savage beast, and dealt at its head a blow +sufficient to have cleaved it to the chine; but the tremendous blow fell +short upon one of the monster's tusks, and the dagger, coming into +contact with the stone-like bone, broke off short at the hilt.</p> + +<p>Half stunned by the shock, the boar only succeeded in grazing the hero's +leg, whereupon the latter seized the beast by both ears and a desperate +struggle began. Weaponless as he was, he grappled with the monster, +which, grunting and roaring, twisted its head about in every direction; +but the hero's iron grasp held fast the broad ears of the monster with +invincible force, and when the boar tried to overturn its assailant by +suddenly going down on its haunches, the hero, with a swift and +tremendous blow of his clenched fist, hurled it backwards, falling +himself indeed at the same time, but uppermost, and quickly recovering +his balance pressed down with his whole weight upon the boar (which +valiantly but vainly continued struggling against superior strength), +and triumphantly bestrided its huge paunch.</p> + +<p>The boar now appeared to be completely beaten; its glassily glaring eyes +were protruding, the blood streamed from its jaws and nostrils; it had +ceased to bellow, but a rattling sound came from its throat; its legs +writhed convulsively, its snout hung flabbily down; it was plain that it +could not hold out much longer.</p> + +<p>The hero had now only to call to his companions, who were close at hand, +but that would have been too humiliating; or to wait till the boar bled +to death, but that would have been too tiresome. Suddenly he recollected +that he had a Turkish knife in his girdle, and, meaning to put a speedy +end to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> long tussle, he pressed down the boar's head with his knee +and felt for his knife with one hand.</p> + +<p>At that moment the report of a gun<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> resounded somewhere in the wood. +The down-trodden boar suddenly seemed to feel that the pressure of his +opponent's hands and knees was slackening, and rallying all his +remaining strength, threw off his assailant and dealt him one last blow +with his tusks, and that blow was fatal, for it ripped open the man's +throat.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Some pretend that this shot was fired by a secret assassin +sent from Vienna. Many doubt whether a shot was fired at all.</p></div> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>His kinsmen and friends, hastening to the spot, found the hero in the +throes of death by the side of the dead boar. They rushed up with loud +lamentations, and bound up his throat with their kerchiefs.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing, my children; it is nothing!" he gasped, and expired.</p> + +<p>"Alas! poor warrior!" sighed those who stood around him.</p> + +<p>"Alas! my country!" sobbed Helen, raising her tearful eyes to heaven.</p> + +<p>The gala-day had become a day of mourning; the hunt a funeral.</p> + +<p>The guests sorrowfully followed the body of their best friend to +Csakatorny. Only the bald-head took the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I say that life was meant for other and better things?" murmured +he. "Well, well! the world is large, and men are many. I'll go a kingdom +further on."</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Thus died Nicolas Zrinyi<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> the younger, his country's greatest poet and +bravest son.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> It is not without reason that Jókai alludes to Zrinyi as +"the hero." He was one of the greatest warriors of his day (1618-1666), +and his victories over the Turks were many and brilliant. As a poet he +stands high, even judged by a modern standard. His chief works are his +great epic, <i>Szigeti veszedelem</i>, and his religious poems, <i>Keresztre</i>, +"On the Cross!"</p></div> + +<p>Thus died the man whom Fortune always respected, the darling, the +bulwark, the ornament of his fatherland.</p> + +<p>In vain will you now seek for his hunting-box or his castle. All has +perished—the name, the family, nay, the very remembrance of the hero.</p> + +<p>The general and the statesman are forgotten; only one part of him still +survives, only one part of him will live eternally—the poet.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_II" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA.</span></h2> + + +<p>And now we too will go "a kingdom further on."</p> + +<p>Let us go one kingdom forward and four years backward. We are in +Transylvania; the year is 1662.</p> + +<p>A simple country-house stands before us, at the lower end of Ebesfalva, +being almost the last house in the place. Evidently the architect of +this edifice had rather an eye to usefulness than beauty, for each part +of it has a style of its own, and differs from every other part in +shape, size, and quality. On both sides stand stables, cow-houses, +wagon-sheds, fowl-houses, and high-gabled, straw-thatched sheepfolds. In +the rear lies an orchard, from which the pointed roof of a beehive peeps +forth, and in the middle of the courtyard stands the whitewashed +dwelling-house, surrounded by shady nut trees, beneath which stands a +round table improvised from a millstone. A stone wall separates the +courtyard from a thrashing-floor, in which we see incipient haycocks +piled up into hillocks, and enormous stacks of corn, on the topmost +point of the tallest of which an adventurous peacock shrieks exultantly. +It is evening; the herds are returning home; the oxen are being unyoked +from the huge, maize-laden wagons; the herds, jingling their bells, come +back from the pastures; the swine jostle one another in the narrow +gateway and rush grunting to their troughs; the cocks and hens are +squabbling in the large nut tree, where they have taken up their +quarters for the night; far away sounds the vesper bell, and further +still the song of the village beauty, on her way to the spring; the +hands see to their cattle: one carries a freshly-mown bundle of +millet-grass across the farmyard, another bends beneath the weight of a +huge pitcher, filled to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> overflowing with yellowish, fragrant, foaming +milk, fresh from the udder. Through the kitchen window is to be seen the +merry sparkle of a roaring fire, over which a girl with round, red +cheeks holds a large pan; the fragrant odour of the savoury mess spreads +far and wide. And now the meal is served on large, green platters; the +family take their places round the millstone table, and eat with a good +appetite, the white watch-dogs looking up respectfully all the while at +the hasty gobblers. Then the dishes are cleared away, and the maize is +shot out of the wagons beneath the projecting eaves. The peasant girls +come trooping in from the neighbouring villages to help to husk the +pods, and sit them down upon the odorous heaps. Some merry wag or other +scoops out a ripe pumpkin, carves eyes and a mouth in it, sticks a +burning light inside, and hangs it up by way of a lantern, and the girls +shriek and pretend to be terribly frightened. Then the more handy lads, +sitting on over-turned bread-baskets, plait long wreaths out of the +maize-husks; and while the tranquil toil proceeds, merry songs are sung +and fairy tales are told of golden-haired princesses and persecuted +orphans. Now and again the fun requires a kiss or two to keep it going, +and loud screams proclaim the daring deed to all the world. The little +children cry out for joy if they chance to find an occasional scarlet or +mottled maize knob among so many yellow ones. And there they sit and +tell tales, and sing and laugh at the merest nothings till all the maize +is husked, and then they wish one another good-night, and, chatting and +bawling, linger over a long, last good-bye; and then they go singing +aloud along their homeward way, partly from fun and partly from pure +light-heartedness.</p> + +<p>Then every one enters his house, shuts the door behind him, and puts out +the fire; the sheep-dogs hold long dialogues in the village streets; the +crescent moon rises; the night watchman begins to cry the hours in +long-drawn rhythm; the others sleep and do not hear his golden saws. +Only in one window of the manor-house a light is shining. There some one +still is up.</p> + +<p>The watchers are a grey-haired, venerable dame and a much younger +serving-maid. The old lady is reading from a worn-out psalter, every +line of which she already knows by heart; the serving-maid, as if not +content with a long day's work, has sat herself down to her distaff, and +draws long threads out of the silky flax which she heckled yesterday and +carded to-day.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>"Go to bed, Clara," said the old woman kindly, "it is enough if I remain +up. Besides, you have to rise early to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"I could not sleep till our mistress has returned," replied the girl, +continuing her work. "Even when all the men are in, I always feel so +frightened till she has come home, but when once she is here, I feel as +safe as if we were behind the walls of a fortress."</p> + +<p>"Quite right, my child; she is, indeed, worth many men. Shame upon it +that the cares and anxieties which it behoves a man to bear should rest +upon her shoulders! She has to look after the whole of this vast +household, and, as if that were not enough, she must needs farm the +estates of her sisters, the ladies Banfi and Teleki. How many lawsuits +must she not carry on with this neighbour and with that! But they've met +their match in her, I'll warrant. She appears in person before the +judges and pleads so shrewdly, that our best advocates might take +lessons from her. And then, too, when my Lord Banfi came capering hither +with his killing ways, some little time ago, fancying that our gracious +lady was one of your straw-widows, how she sent him away with a flea in +his ear! The worthy gentleman did not know whether he stood on his head +or his heels, and yet he is one of the chief men in the land! And +afterwards, too, when, out of revenge, he saddled us with that +freebooter of a captain and his lanzknechts, don't you recollect how our +lady had them all flogged out of the village, and how the rascals took +to their heels when they saw our gracious mistress herself march out +against them, blunderbuss in hand?"</p> + +<p>"Would that they had not scampered off quite so quickly," interrupted +the girl, with a burst of enthusiasm. "I'd have laid the poker about +their ears, I warrant you."</p> + +<p>"Hark'e, Clara! when a woman has been forced to keep house alone for so +long a time, and to defend herself and family by the might of her own +arms, she comes at last to feel herself a man all over. That is why our +mistress looks as stern as if she had never been a girl."</p> + +<p>"But tell me, Aunt Magdalene," returned the girl, drawing her chair +nearer, "shall we never see master again?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! God only knows," replied the old dame, sighing. "How can I tell +when the poor fellow will be released from his captivity? I always had a +presentiment that it would come to this, and I said so, but no one +heeded me. It happened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> in this wise. In the days when our Prince +George<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> of blessed memory, not content with his own land, must needs +set out to conquer Poland at the head of the Hungarian chivalry, our +good master, Sir Michael, went with him. Oh, how I tried—and our lady +too—to keep him back. They were a newly-wedded couple then, and the +good gentleman himself had little heart for war—he always preferred to +sit at home among his books, his water-mills, and his fruit trees—but +honour called him and he went. I begged him to at least take my son Andy +with him. God gave me that thought, for otherwise we should never have +heard again of our gracious master, for when his Highness, our Sovereign +Prince George, beheld the bestial hordes of Tartars marching out against +him, he himself galloped off home, leaving his nobility captives in the +hands of the heathen, who dragged them off in fetters to Tartary. My son +Andy, who was of no use to them, for he was badly wounded in the thigh, +and therefore could not work, they sent home; he brought the tidings +that Sir Michael was sickening in sad confinement, and the Tartars, +perceiving how high he stood in the esteem of his fellow-prisoners, took +him for their prince, and set upon his head such a frightfully high +ransom, that all his property turned into gold could not have paid it +off. Nevertheless our noble lady rejoiced exceedingly when she heard +that her husband was still alive, and ran hither and thither and left no +stone unturned to raise the money. But neither her kind friends nor her +dear relations would lend her anything—no, not on the best security, +for no one willingly lends on land in time of war. So she sold her +treasures, her bridal dower which her mother had given her; all the +beautiful silver plate, jewelled bracelets, and embossed gold and pearl +ornaments which her ancestors had handed down to her; her large +satin-trimmed, fur-embroidered mantle and her filagreed <i>mente</i><a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>; her +rings, agraffes, and hairpins; her carbuncle bracelets and orient +pearls; her diamond ear-rings—in short, everything which could be +turned into money. Yet even all that came to not one-half of what the +Tartar demanded, so what does she do but farm the estates of her +sisters, plough up the fallow-lands, and cut down the forests to make +way for corn-fields. To find time for more work, she turned night into +day. No sort of husbandry whereby money<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> could be made escaped her +attention. At one time she laid down clay-pits and dug out quarries, the +products of which found customers in the neighbourhood. At another time +she bred prize oxen and sold them to the Armenian herdsmen. She visited +all the markets in person; carried her wine as far as Poland, her corn +to Hermannstadt, her honey, wax, and preserved fruits to Kronstadt—nay, +in order to obtain a fair price for her wools, she crossed the border +and took them as far as Debreczin. And how frugally she fared all the +time! It is true she never stinted her servants in anything, but she +seemed to weigh every morsel that went into her own mouth. At harvest +time she would have nothing cooked for herself at home for weeks +together, so that she might remain in the fields all day. A piece of +bread which would have been too little for a child was all she ate, and +her drink was a bowl of spring water; yet, believe me, Clara, we never +once saw her in a bad humour, and never did a single bitter tear fall +upon the dry bread which her loyalty to her husband constrained her to +live upon."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> George Rakoczy I., Prince of Transylvania, 1630-1648.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <i>Mente.</i> A fur pelisse.</p></div> + +<p>"And why was all this?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, my child. The money which she thus scraped together by +toil and frugality, year by year, is regularly sent by Andy to Tartary, +in part payment of Sir Michael's ransom. At such times our dear lady +grudges herself every morsel she puts into her mouth."</p> + +<p>The old nurse wiped the tears from her eyes.</p> + +<p>"And what then was the amount of the ransom?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can tell you, my daughter. Andy always brings back +the parchment on which the Tartar marks down the amount received and the +amount still due. Our noble lady keeps it herself. I, of course, never +ask any questions about it."</p> + +<p>The girl was silent and appeared to be reflecting; doubly quick the +spindle flew round in her hands, and her heart beat faster too.</p> + +<p>"My son Andy is there now," said the old dame, weary of the long +silence. "I expect him back every hour now; from him we shall hear +something certain."</p> + +<p>At that moment the gate outside creaked on its hinges, a little gig +rolled boisterously into the courtyard, and a joyful barking and yelping +told that an old acquaintance had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Our mistress has come," cried the two servants, rising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> from their +seats, and at the same moment the door opened and Anna Bornemissa, +Michael Apafi's wife, stepped in.</p> + +<p>A stately woman of almost masculine stature; the outline of her slim but +vigorous and muscular figure is plainly visible through her simple grey +linen dress. She cannot be more than thirty-six, but her face is of +those on which time leaves no trace until extreme old age. Her features +are deeply tanned by the sun, but the velvet down of well-preserved +youth and the natural ruddiness of perfect health lend a peculiar +loveliness to that extraordinary countenance. Her look surprises, +dominates, subdues; the charm which lies concealed there appears not so +much in the features as in the expression—her face is the mirror of a +noble soul. Not as if there was anything hard, rough, stiff, or +masculine in the features themselves: on the contrary. Her brow is +finely arched, delicately smooth, unobscured as yet by a single wrinkle, +and yet so full of majesty; her eyelashes are most exquisitely +pencilled; the shape of the eyes is enchanting, those large, not exactly +wild-black, but rather deep, bright, nut-brown eyes, half hidden by +their long eyelashes, and in those eyes there is so much fire, so much +sparkle, and yet so much coldness. The delicate nose, the oval face, +every feature is so femininely regular. Even the mouth when closed is so +sweet, so tender, the other features seem to use violence towards it to +prevent its smile from spreading further, and yet when it opens, how +haughty, how commanding it becomes.</p> + +<p>"What, still up?" cried she to her servants.</p> + +<p>The voice is pleasantly sonorous, although affliction has somewhat +deadened its lower notes.</p> + +<p>"We thought it best to stay up, in case your ladyship might be kept +waiting outside," replied the old woman, tripping round her mistress and +taking the heavy mantle from her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Has not Andy yet returned?" asked Lady Apafi, in a low, melancholy +voice.</p> + +<p>"Not yet; but I expect him every moment."</p> + +<p>Lady Apafi sighed deeply. How much of stifled grief, vanishing hope, and +patient renunciation was concealed in that sigh! The recollection of the +manifold sufferings of her wretched life rose up before that heroic +woman's soul. She called to mind her brave struggle with fate, with her +fellow-men, and with her own heart; her love, grafted on pain, had +brought forth not gladness but ungratified longing. Another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> toilsome +year of her life had passed away. With the self-sacrificing industry of +a bee, she had hoarded up, morsel by morsel, her little store, and who +could tell how many years would be requisite to complete it? And till +then nothing but toil, patience, and unrequited love.</p> + +<p>Lady Apafi, not without an effort, resumed her habitual coldness, wished +her servants good-night, and was already on her way to her chamber, when +Clara rushed forward and kissed her mistress's hand. The lady looked at +her with astonishment. She felt that a burning tear had fallen on her +hand, which the girl held fast and pressed to her lips.</p> + +<p>"What ails you?" asked Dame Apafi, much surprised.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied the girl, sobbing; "it is only that I feel so sorry +for your ladyship. I have long had an idea in my head, but have never +yet dared to express it. We have often talked about our master's +captivity and his grievous ransom. We village girls have all of us got +necklaces of gold and silver coins which are no good to us. So we have +agreed among ourselves to club together all this money now lying idle +and give it to your ladyship towards our master's ransom. It may not be +much, but still is something."</p> + +<p>Lady Apafi, her eyes glistening with involuntary tears, pressed hard the +peasant girl's trembling hand.</p> + +<p>"I thank thee, my girl," she said, deeply touched. "I prize thy offer +more highly than if my sister Banfi had placed ten thousand gold chains +at my disposal. But God will also be my helper. In Him is my trust."</p> + +<p>At that moment the trampling of horses was heard in the courtyard and +the dogs fell to barking.</p> + +<p>"Who can that be? Robbers, perhaps!" stammered the old nurse, and +neither of the two servants durst approach the door.</p> + +<p>Then Dame Apafi took the light from the table, stepped to the door, +opened it, and looked out into the courtyard.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" she cried, loudly and clearly.</p> + +<p>"We!—I mean to say I," returned a hesitating voice, which all three +immediately recognized as Andy's.</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'tis you? Come hither quickly!" said Lady Apafi joyfully, pushing +Andy into the room, who was plainly very much confused, for he kept on +twirling about his hat in his hands, and looked sheepishly at the floor.</p> + +<p>"Well, did you see him and speak to him? Is he well?" asked Lady Apafi +impetuously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>"Yes, he is quite well," replied the man, glad to have found his voice +again; "he respectfully kisses your ladyship's hand. He also bade me say +that God is good!"</p> + +<p>"But what do you keep looking sideways for? At whom are the dogs +barking?"</p> + +<p>"At the black horse perhaps; it is a long time since they saw him."</p> + +<p>"And you gave the purse to the Mirza?"</p> + +<p>Instead of answering this question, Andy began to fumble about in the +pocket of his sheepskin jacket, and as this pocket was very high up, +narrow and deep, his features expressed the most exquisite torture till +he had fished up the parchment, and he trembled all over as he handed it +to his mistress.</p> + +<p>"Is there still much in arrear? What says the Mirza?" asked Lady Apafi, +with a very shaky voice.</p> + +<p>"There is not much more. One might even say there is very little," +replied Andy, with downcast eyes, fumbling in his confusion with the rim +of his hat.</p> + +<p>"But how much, how much then?" they all cried together.</p> + +<p>Andy got very red.</p> + +<p>"Well—well, there is nothing at all!"</p> + +<p>He said this in a broken voice, and with that he burst into a loud and +long roar of laughter, and immediately after wept as if his heart would +break.</p> + +<p>The mind of Dame Apafi instantly grasped the whole truth.</p> + +<p>"Speak, man!" cried she passionately, seizing the fellow by the +shoulder; "you have brought my husband back with you?"</p> + +<p>Andy waved his fist behind him and nodded his head; he laughed and wept +at the same time; but, to save his life, he could not have uttered a +word.</p> + +<p>Dame Apafi, with a sob and a cry of boundless joy, rushed to the door +which already stood ajar. Some one had been waiting there and listening +all the time; it was Michael Apafi, her long expected, often bewailed +consort.</p> + +<p>"Michael! my beloved husband!" cried the woman, trembling with emotion; +and half swooning, half beside herself, she fell upon her husband's +neck, murmuring unintelligible words of love, joy, and tenderness.</p> + +<p>Apafi pressed her to his breast. She embraced him convulsively; no other +sound was to be heard but a deep sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Thou art mine!" she stammered, after a long pause, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> the tempest of +her emotion had somewhat subsided and she was more herself.</p> + +<p>"I am thine," cried Apafi; "and I swear that nothing in the world shall +ever tear me from thee again!"</p> + +<p>"O God, what bliss!" cried Anna, raising her streaming eyes to heaven. +"What joy thou hast brought back to me!" she stammered once more, +leaning on her husband and hiding her face in his bosom.</p> + +<p>"And if the whole world were mine," continued Apafi, "even then I should +not be rich enough to requite thy devotion. I take God to witness, that +if I could call a kingdom my own I would give it thee, and think it but +a beggarly recompense."</p> + +<p>The joyful, loving pair, happy beyond all expression, were then left +alone with their joy and happiness. Late into the night burned the taper +in their window. How much, how endlessly much they had to say to one +another!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_III" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE.</span></h2> + + +<p>A year had elapsed since Michael Apafi's return home. There was a great +hubbub in the house at Ebesfalva. One team of horses had scarcely had +time to rest, when off went another at full gallop along the high-road; +the servants themselves were sent hither and thither; some great trouble +had evidently visited the house, but for all that, not a glum or +sorrowful face was to be seen.</p> + +<p>To those who could question discreetly, it was presently whispered that +the wife of Michael Apafi expected every moment to be delivered of a +child.</p> + +<p>Good Sir Michael never quitted the chamber of his suffering consort. The +gossips said that the sight of her husband was a great consolation to +the invalid lady, and that he never ceased whispering sweet, caressing +words into her ear.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a wild tumult filled the courtyard, and, to the great terror of +the servants assembled there, four-and-twenty mounted Albanians, armed +with swords and lances, and headed by a big-headed Turkish Aga, dashed +up to the door.</p> + +<p>"Is your master at home?" cried the Aga dictatorially to Andy, who stood +rooted to the spot with fright. "For if he is," continued he, without +waiting for an answer, "tell him to come here. I have something to say +to him."—Andy still could not find his voice.—"If, however," proceeded +the Turk emphatically, "if he won't come, I'll go and fetch him."</p> + +<p>And with these words he sprang from his horse, and was crossing the +threshold, when Andrew plucked up sufficient courage to stammer—"But, +most gracious sir ..." The Turk turned savagely upon him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"It were better, my son, if you did not chatter so much!" said he, and +forthwith he plunged into the vestibule.</p> + +<p>At that very moment Apafi, startled by the clatter of the sabres, came +out of his wife's chamber. He was not a little alarmed when he found +himself face to face with this unexpected guest.</p> + +<p>"Are you Michael Apafi?" asked the Turk wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"The same, at your service, gracious sir," returned Apafi meekly.</p> + +<p>"Good! My master, his Highness, the famous Ali Pasha, commands you to +instantly get into your carriage, and come to my lord's camp at +Kis-Selyk without a single attendant."</p> + +<p>"This is a pretty go," murmured Apafi to himself. "Pardon me, worthy +Aga," added he aloud; "just now it is quite impossible for me to comply +with your wish. My wife lies in the pangs of child-birth; the issues of +life and death depend on the next five minutes. I cannot leave her now."</p> + +<p>"Send for a doctor if your wife is ill; and recollect that to bring down +the wrath of the illustrious Pasha on your head is not the proper way to +cure <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"Grant me but one day, and then I don't care if I lose my head."</p> + +<p>"You won't lose your head if you obey instantly; but otherwise I'll not +answer for the consequences. Come! don't be a fool."</p> + +<p>Anna heard in her chamber the dialogue that was going on outside, and +anxiously called her consort. Apafi quitted the Aga and hastened to his +wife.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked the sufferer, much disturbed. How pale she was at +that moment!</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing, my darling! Some one has sent for me, but I don't +mean to go."</p> + +<p>But Lady Apafi had perceived the points of the Turkish lances through +the rifts of the window-curtains, and she cried despairingly—</p> + +<p>"Michael, they want to carry you off!" Then she clasped her husband +convulsively to her heart. "I won't let you go, Michael! I won't lose +you again. You shall not be dragged off into captivity. Rather let them +kill me."</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself, dear child," said Apafi soothingly. "I really don't know +what they want me for. I have certainly done nothing to offend these +good people. I suppose it is an attempt to levy black-mail. I'll satisfy +them."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>"Alas! I have an evil foreboding. My heart fails me. Some calamity +threatens you," stammered the sick woman; then, bursting into a violent +fit of sobbing, she threw herself on her husband's bosom. "Michael, I +shall never see you again."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the Aga outside began to feel bored, so he fell to hammering +at the door, and cried—</p> + +<p>"Apafi! hi! Apafi! come out! I may not enter your wife's chamber, for +that would be an abomination to a servant of Allah; but if you don't +come out at once I'll burn your house down."</p> + +<p>"I'd better go, perhaps," said Apafi, trying to soothe his wife with +kisses. "My refusal would only make matters worse for us. They are sure +to let me go. I shall be back in the twinkling of an eye."</p> + +<p>"I shall never see you again," gasped Anna. She was near to swooning.</p> + +<p>Apafi took advantage of this momentary fainting fit, plucked up his +courage, left his wife, and joined the Aga with streaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, let us be off," said the Turk. "But surely you won't go +without your sword, just as if you were some poor peasant," continued he +fiercely. "Go back, I say; gird on your sword, and tell your wife that +she need fear nothing."</p> + +<p>Apafi returned to his room, and as he took down his large +silver-embossed sword (it was hanging up on the wall right over the bed) +he said cheerily to his wife—</p> + +<p>"Look, now! there can scarcely be anything unpleasant in store for me, +or they would not have bidden me buckle on my sword. Trust in God!"</p> + +<p>"I do, I do trust in Him," she replied, convulsively kissing her +husband's hand and pressing it to her heaving bosom. Then she broke +forth again into bitter lamentations. "Apafi, if I die, do not forget +me."</p> + +<p>"Alas!" cried Apafi; then bitterly cursing his fate, he tore himself out +of his consort's arms, and wishing all Turks, born and to be born, at +the bottom of the sea, rushed violently out of the room.</p> + +<p>Then he threw himself into his carriage, and looked neither up nor down, +but wrestled all the way with the one thought that if his wife were now +to die, he would not be able to receive her parting words; and this +thought conjured up before him a whole series of images each more +lugubrious than the other.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>He and his escort had scarcely left Ebesfalva a mile behind them when +the Turks caught sight of a horseman dashing after them at full tilt, +obviously bent on overtaking them, and they called Apafi's attention to +the fact. At first he absolutely refused to listen to them; but when +they told him that the horseman came from the direction of Ebesfalva, he +made the carriage stop and awaited the messenger.</p> + +<p>It was Andy who came galloping up, with waving handkerchief and loosely +hanging reins.</p> + +<p>"Well, Andrew! what has happened?" cried Apafi with a beating heart to +his servant while he was still a long way off.</p> + +<p>"Good news, sir!" cried Andy: "our most gracious lady has just now given +birth to a son, and she herself, thank God! is quite out of danger."</p> + +<p>"Blessed be the name of the Lord!" cried Apafi, with a lightened heart; +and as he dismissed the messenger, the idea which was at the bottom of +all his griefs vanished from his brain, and with it all his griefs also. +He thought of his new-born son, and in the light of that thought he +began to regard his Turkish escort with other eyes: they now seemed to +him as good, honourable, civilized a set of people as it was possible to +find on the face of the earth.</p> + +<p>It was late at night when they reached Ali Pasha's camp. The sentinels +slept like badgers; you might have carried off the whole camp bodily so +far as they were concerned. Apafi had to wait in front of the Pasha's +tent till the latter had huddled on his clothes. The curtains of the +tent were then drawn aside, and he was invited to enter. Ali Pasha was +sitting with folded arms on a carpet spread out in the back part of the +tent; behind him stood two gorgeously-dressed Moors with drawn +scimitars. The outlines of a couple of figures were distinctly visible +through the tapestry wall which separated the back part of the tent from +the audience chamber—no doubt the Pasha's wives, on the alert to pick +up something of what was going on.</p> + +<p>"Art thou that same Michael Apafi who was for some years the prisoner of +the Tartar Mirza?" asked the Pasha, after the usual greetings.</p> + +<p>"The same, most gracious Pasha, to whom also the Khan compassionately +remitted the remainder of the ransom money."</p> + +<p>"Think no more of that. The Mirza remitted the remainder of the ransom +money because my master, the Sublime<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Sultan, commanded him so to do, +and the illustrious Padishah will do yet more for thee."</p> + +<p>"Wonderingly I listen, and gratefully; not knowing how I have deserved +such grace," returned Apafi.</p> + +<p>"The Sublime Sultan has heard how honestly, discreetly, and manfully +thou hast borne thy doleful captivity, and how thou didst win the hearts +of thy fellow-captives, insomuch that they all looked up to thee, though +among slaves there is no distinction of rank. For which cause therefore, +and also having regard to the fact that the present Prince of +Transylvania, John Kemeny, would fain rebel against the Sublime Porte, +the illustrious Padishah, I say, has for these reasons resolved to raise +thee without delay to the throne of Transylvania and keep thee there."</p> + +<p>"Me! You are pleased to jest with your servant, most gracious sir!" +stuttered Apafi.</p> + +<p>His eyes were blinded by excess of light.</p> + +<p>"Nay, thou hast not the slightest cause to be amazed thereat. The +Padishah has but to nod, and pashas and princes become slaves, beggars, +or corpses. He nods again, and beggars and slaves rise up into their +places. Thou art highly favoured, for thou hast found grace before him. +Use it discreetly then, but beware of abusing it!"</p> + +<p>"But, most gracious sir, does it occur to you how I'm to become a +prince?"</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me. I'll make thee one."</p> + +<p>"But Transylvania has got another prince, John Kemeny."</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me also. I'll dispose of him."</p> + +<p>Apafi shrugged his shoulders. He felt that he had never been in such a +mess in all his life.</p> + +<p>"My wife was quite right in her presentiment that a great misfortune was +about to befall me," thought he to himself.</p> + +<p>The Pasha began again.</p> + +<p>"Summon therefore a Diet at once, so that the installation may take +place as speedily as possible."</p> + +<p>"I summon a Diet! I should like to know who would appear to my summons. +Why, sir, I am the least amongst the gentry of the land; people will +laugh in my face, and say that I am mad."</p> + +<p>"In that case they will soon see that it is they who are mad."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>"But how am I to send out the writs? for, excepting the land of the +Szeklers,<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> Kemeny<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> holds every place."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>Szeklers</i> (Siculi). The Szeklers were originally a +military colony placed, at the beginning of the twelfth century, in the +waste lands of Transylvania, which they engaged to defend against the +incursions of the pagan Pechenegs, on being exempted from every other +obligation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> John Kemeny, Prince of Transylvania, 1661-1662.</p></div> + +<p>"Then summon the Szeklers. They, at any rate, will come."</p> + +<p>"But I don't even know <i>their</i> chief-men, for I am not a born Szekler. +The only persons I know amongst them are Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and +Stephen Nalaczi."</p> + +<p>"Then summon hither Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, if you +consider them fit and proper persons."</p> + +<p>Apafi began to scratch his head.</p> + +<p>"But supposing they do appear, where shall we hold our Diet? There is no +place for us. At Klausenburg the governor, my brother-in-law, Denis +Banfi, is my sworn enemy, while at Hermannstadt lies John Kemeny in +person."</p> + +<p>"We can assemble here in Kis-Selyk."</p> + +<p>Harassed as he was, Apafi could not help laughing aloud.</p> + +<p>"Why, here there is not a house large enough to hold thirty men," cried +he energetically.</p> + +<p>"What! is there not the church?" interrupted the Pasha. "If that house +be sufficiently fine for the honour of God, I suppose it will do to +honour men in!"</p> + +<p>Apafi saw no further escape.</p> + +<p>"Can you write?" asked the Pasha.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can do that," replied Apafi, sighing deeply.</p> + +<p>"Very well, for I cannot. So sit down and issue the writs for a Diet."</p> + +<p>A slave then brought in a writing-table, a scroll of parchment, and an +inkhorn. Apafi sat down like a lamb about to be slaughtered, and began +with a caligraphic flourish so large that the Turk sprang up in +affright, and asked what it meant.</p> + +<p>"It is a W," answered Apafi.</p> + +<p>"You won't leave any room for the remaining letters."</p> + +<p>"That is only the initial letter, the others will be much smaller."</p> + +<p>"Read aloud then what you are writing."</p> + +<p>Apafi wrote with a trembling hand and read: "Whereas—"</p> + +<p>The Pasha furiously tore away the parchment and roared at him.</p> + +<p>"Plague take all your whereases and inasmuch-ases! Why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> all this beating +about the bush? Write the usual formula—'We, Michael Apafi, Prince of +Transylvania, command you, wretched slaves, by these presents, to appear +incontinently before us at Kis-Selyk, under pain of death.'"</p> + +<p>Apafi was brought almost to his wits' ends before he could make the +Pasha comprehend that it was not usual to correspond in this style with +free Hungarian noblemen. At last the Pasha allowed him to write his +letter in his own way, but took care that its purport should be emphatic +and dictatorial. As soon as Apafi had written the letters, Ali Pasha put +a Ciaus on horseback, and sent him off at full speed to all those to +whom the writ was addressed.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Apafi to himself, sighing deeply as he wiped his pen, +"and now I should like to see the man who could tell me what will come +of it all!"</p> + +<p>"Till the Diet assembles," said the Pasha, "you will remain here as my +guest."</p> + +<p>"Cannot I go home then to my wife and child?" asked Apafi, with a +beating heart.</p> + +<p>"To give us the slip, eh? A likely tale. That is always the way with you +Hungarian nobles. Those we won't have at any price are always dangling +about our necks, and begging and praying for the princely diadem; and +those we would place on the throne take to their heels as if we were +going to impale them." And with that the Pasha assigned Apafi a tent and +dismissed him, at the same time giving secret but strict orders to the +guard of honour stationed at the door of the new Prince, not to lose +sight of him for an instant.</p> + +<p>"I'm nicely in for it now," sighed Apafi with the resignation of +despair.</p> + +<p>His solitary hope now was, that the deputies whom he had summoned would +ignore his informal mandate by failing to appear.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>A few days afterwards, as Apafi still lay on his camp bedstead in the +early morning, Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, with all +the other noble Szeklers to whom the circular had been sent, suddenly +walked into his tent.</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name!" cried Apafi, starting up, "why have you come +hither?"</p> + +<p>"Your Highness ordered us to come hither," replied Nalaczi.</p> + +<p>"True; but you would have shown far greater wisdom if you had kept away. +What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>"Solemnly install your Highness, and, if need be, defend you also in the +good old Szekler fashion," replied Stephen Kun.</p> + +<p>"You are too few for that, my brothers," objected Apafi.</p> + +<p>"Pray be so good as to cast a glance outside the tent!" replied Nalaczi, +drawing aside the curtain and pointing to a band of Szeklers armed with +sabres and lances, who had remained outside the tent. "We have marched +out <i>cum gentibus</i>, to prove to your Highness that if we have accepted +you as our Prince, we have not done so simply by way of a jest."</p> + +<p>Apafi shrugged his shoulders and began to draw on his boots; but he was +so dazed all the while, that almost an hour elapsed before he was half +dressed. He put on every article of clothing the wrong way, and had to +take it off again. Thus, for example, he had slipped into his mantle +before he even thought of his vest.</p> + +<p>Several hundred gentlemen had met together in Selyk at his bidding, a +thing he had never expected, still less desired.</p> + +<p>When Ali Pasha came out of his tent, he went towards the deputies, took +Apafi by the hand in the presence of them all, threw over his shoulders +a broad, new green velvet mente,<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> put an ermine embroidered cap on +his head, and explained to the assembled crowd that henceforth they were +to regard him as their legitimate Prince; whereupon the Szeklers roared +out deafening "Eljens," raised Apafi on their shoulders, and hoisted him +on to a daïs covered with velvet which Ali Pasha had expressly provided +for the occasion.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Mente.</i> See Note 2, p. 21.</p></div> + +<p>"And now," said the Pasha, "go to church, administer the oaths to the +Prince according to ancient custom, and yourselves take the oath of +allegiance. I have ordered the bells to be rung myself, and you had +better have a mass sung in the usual way."</p> + +<p>"Your pardon, but I am a Calvinist," protested Apafi.</p> + +<p>"So much the better. The ceremony will be over all the quicker, and will +cost less trouble. There is the Rev. Francis Magyari, he will preach the +sermon."</p> + +<p>After that Apafi let them do whatever they liked with him, merely +twirling his long moustaches hither and thither, and shrugging his +shoulders whenever they asked him questions.</p> + +<p>Nalaczi and the other Szeklers thought good to treat him in church with +all the respect due to a sovereign prince, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> Rev. Francis Magyari +improvised a powerful sermon, in which he prophesied, in a voice of +thunder, that the God of Israel who had called David from the sheepfolds +to a throne, and exalted him over all his adversaries, would now also +graciously maintain the cause of His elect even though his enemies were +as numerous as the grass of the field or the sand on the sea-shore.</p> + +<p>This modest little house of prayer could never have thought that it +would have been the scene of a Diet and a coronation; and as for Apafi, +not even in his wildest dreams had it ever occurred to him that such +things might befall him.</p> + +<p>He had eyes and ears neither for the coronation nor for the sermon, but +kept on thinking of his wife and child. What would become of them, poor +creatures; where would they be able to hide their heads when John Kemeny +had put him in prison, confiscated his estates, and driven them out of +house and home? It next occurred to him that, somewhere in Szeklerland, +he had a brother, Stephen Apafi, with whom he had always been on the +most friendly terms, who would certainly take them under his roof if he +saw them destitute. These thoughts made him so forgetful of everything +around him, that when at the close of the sermon all present arose and +intoned the <i>Te Deum</i>, he too got up, oblivious of the fact that all +this ceremony was being held in his special honour.</p> + +<p>Then some one behind him placed two hands on his shoulders, pressed him +down into his seat again, and a well-known voice growled into his ear—</p> + +<p>"Keep your seat."</p> + +<p>Apafi looked in the direction of the voice, and fell back in his chair +completely overcome. His brother Stephen was actually standing behind +him.</p> + +<p>"You here too?" said Apafi, deeply distressed.</p> + +<p>"I was a little late," returned Stephen, "but quite early enough after +all, and I'll venture to remain here till you tell me to go."</p> + +<p>"So you have also resolved to plunge into destruction?"</p> + +<p>"Brother," said Stephen, "we are in the hands of God; but something has +been put into our own hands also which may have a say in the matter," +and he touched the hilt of his sword. "Kemeny has lost the affection of +the greater part of the country; why I need not now tell you. Your cause +is righteous, nor do you lack the means of success."</p> + +<p>"But if it should turn out otherwise, what would become of my wife? Have +you not seen her?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>"I came straight from her—that is why I came so late."</p> + +<p>"What! You have spoken to her? What did she say about my evil case? Was +she not much troubled?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. On the contrary, she was very glad of it, and said +that Transylvania could not have got a better prince; that you deserved +this honour far more than any of the magnates who practise nothing but +tyranny and extortion, and that she much regretted her illness prevented +her from assisting you with her sympathy and counsel."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should have liked it better if the election had fallen upon +her," said Apafi, half in jest and half in anger.</p> + +<p>"Take heed to yourself," answered Stephen archly; "the lady is already +so much used to ruling the roost, that we shall live to see her put the +Prince's diadem on her own head, unless you plant it right firmly on +your temples. Nay, brother, don't look so serious; I was but in jest!"</p> + +<p>But does not the proverb say that there is many a true word spoken in +jest?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IV" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA.</span></h2> + + +<p>Meanwhile, his Highness, Prince John Kemeny, was faring sumptuously at +Hermannstadt. This gentleman's darling vice was gluttony—even if the +whole machinery of state were to fall to pieces in consequence, he would +not have risen from table, and amongst all his counsellors his cook +always stood highest.</p> + +<p>And now, too, we find him at dinner. He has converted the Town-hall to +his own use, and it is thronged by his suite. In the courtyard we see +spurred and iron-clad cuirassiers flirting with the Saxon serving-maids; +German musketeers, professedly on guard, who have left their muskets +standing against the doorposts, in order to cultivate friendly relations +with the scullions removing the dishes. With brimming glasses raised on +high, they jocosely warble Hungarian airs picked up on the spur of the +moment, improvising at the same time an absurdly artless sort of dance, +in which one leg performs aimless aërial gyrations. On the other hand, +the heydukes of the Hungarian bodyguard, dressed in yellow dolmans with +green facings, sit morosely in twos and threes against the wall, not +even condescending to look at the bumpers of wine thrust, from time to +time, into their hands; but gravely tossing it down at a single gulp +into its proper place, returning the empty pocal to the friendly butler, +who has as much as he can do to keep his feet; keeps on offering the +noble fluid to Tom, Dick, and Harry; and finding it easier to go +backwards than forwards, is constantly backing against the head cook as +he passes to and fro, bearing now a sugared almond tart adorned with +flowers on a silver salver, and representing the tower of Babel, now a +large porcelain bowl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> exhaling the spicy fragrance of hot punch, or a +peacock on a large wooden platter, roasted whole, with his gorgeous +head-dress and splendid tail still upon him.</p> + +<p>The head cook is scarcely able to force his way through the gaping mob +of petitioners assembled here, who must wait till the Prince has dined, +and are regaled in the meantime with wine, roast meats, and pastry, +getting in short everything but what they came for—justice.</p> + +<p>Within the dining-room itself the gentlemen and ladies are by this time +in a merry mood. The meal has already lasted a pretty long time, and is +likely to last a good while longer.</p> + +<p>French gastronomic science seemed to have reserved all her masterpieces +for Kemeny's banquet. Nature's three kingdoms have been laid under +contribution to tickle the human palate. Every extravagant and +extraordinary delicacy invented by Epicureanism, from the days of +Lucullus to the days of Gallic gourmandism, is here in abundance. Here +is to be seen every sort of foreign and domestic wine, in +artistically-carved and gorgeously-coloured Venetian flasks, placed in +huge silver refrigerators; game, large and small, of the rarest kind, on +silver dishes; transparent, rose-coloured, quivering jellies with names +unpronounceable by Hungarian lips; Indian fruits preserved in cane +sugar; <i>ragoûts</i> of cocks' combs; enigmatical-looking snails, fit rather +for the eye than for the palate; gigantic lobsters and the rarer kinds +of marine fish fantastically disposed; meats which men who have already +eaten to surfeit can only make believe that they enjoy by a supreme +effort of the imagination; dishes which a true man would only eat by way +of penance; immense pasties made entirely of pikes' livers; large +baskets of rosy swans' eggs, which the guests may boil for amusement in +little silver egg-boilers placed over spirit-lamps in front of them, and +other wonderful dishes innumerable, the purpose of which is not +immediately obvious to ordinary children of men, and everything in such +profusion as would have more than sufficed for six times the number of +guests present. Then too there were there all sorts of spiced drinks to +suit every one's taste, from punch-royal to Polish brandy. Nothing was +forgotten.</p> + +<p>Behind every guest stands a little page, who whisks away his well-filled +plate from him the instant he turns his head, and places before him a +clean one instead. Behind the Prince's chair stands the son of Count +Ladislaus Csaky, who is right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> proud that a son of his should have the +privilege of filling and refilling the Prince's pocal.</p> + +<p>And the Prince's pocal has to be filled pretty often. Transylvanian +banquets generally ended with a wager on the part of the gentlemen to +drink one another under the table. At such banquets John Kemeny has no +equal. Now too he invites the bolder spirits to take up the usual +challenge. The greater part of the guests, however, decline the +invitation. Only three persons respond to the Prince's challenge. The +first is Wenzinger, the leader of the German mercenaries, a big, +raw-boned man, with a closely-shaven head, bright blue eyes, somewhat +stooping neck, and scarcely visible grey eyebrows. The second is Paul +Beldi, Captain-General of the Szeklers, a grave, handsome, +amiable-looking man with a very high forehead. The wine he has taken +gives a sparkle to his gentle eyes, and his taciturn lips are parted in +a half-smile—drink produces no other effect upon him. He wears a simple +yellow camelot dolman, with a scarlet, silver-embossed girdle round the +waist; his white shirt-collar extends far over his dark-blue kerchief. +His smoothly-combed hair is parted down the middle, brushed behind his +ears, and falls in long locks over his shoulders. The man with delicate +white hands who sits opposite to him, Denis Banfi, Lord-Lieutenant of +Klausenburg, is the third competitor. He is a middle-aged, +broad-shouldered, haughty-looking man, with an air of savage truculence +on his aristocratic face. His thick black beard has never yet been +touched by a razor. His dark, chestnut brown locks lie in spiral rolls +upon his forehead, and flow down over both shoulders in rich crisp +curls. His round face is red by nature, but wine has now made it redder +than ever. His sparkling eyes glance defiantly around. When he addresses +any one he strokes his double chin, screws his neck on one side, and +speaks in a sharp, irritating tone, at the same time throwing back his +haughty head provocatively, and assuming an expression of endless +condescension. His dress consists of a purple dolman with large +enamelled buttons, and over that a short, heavy, white silk tabard +trimmed with swan's-down, the sleeves of which are slit up to the elbows +and garnished with rubies. His golden knightly belt is thrown over his +shoulder with lordly negligence.</p> + +<p>At the head of the table sits John Kemeny himself, with the consorts of +Beldi and Banfi one on each side of him. Kemeny, despite his frequent +intercourse and close relations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> with the West, still prefers to adopt +the oriental costume. He is characterized by short clipped hair, a long +beard, a grave, dignified face, and a curt, monosyllabic style of +speech. The ruling expression of his face is an unmistakable, fatalistic +indifference to everything about him, an indifference which was ere long +to overwhelm him in so terrible a catastrophe.</p> + +<p>One of the ladies by his side, Banfi's wife, is a delicate, nervous, +gentle being, scarcely twenty years old. Ever since her sixteenth year +she has stood beneath the influence of her violent, imperious husband, +and is now almost as timid as a child. She scarcely ever dares to raise +her eyes, and then only to look at her lord, whom she loves +idolatrously. Her neck and shoulders are covered by a heavy, watered +silk dress, fastened by a row of diamond buttons. Round her neck twines +a gold chain, between each of the large broad links of which sparkles an +emerald. A silk coif set with pearls adorns her head, reaching half-way +down over her forehead, and jealously hiding the blonde locks of the +lovely lady.</p> + +<p>On the other side, between her husband and the Prince, sits Beldi's +wife, still a dazzling beauty. Her complexion ordinarily has the tint of +the white rose, but is now all aglow with the fire of the banquet: her +flushed cheeks seem literally to burn. Her coquettish black eyes roam +hither and thither. A seductive magic lurks in her eyebrows, and when +she lowers her long eyelashes over her burning eyes, how ravishing she +is! Her black locks are held together, not by a coif, but by strings of +pearls artistically intertwined and fastened behind to a little diamond +diadem, from which a long gold filigree veil descends to the ground. Her +dress consists of a tight-fitting, cherry-coloured kirtle of Hungarian +velvet, wide open in front and fastened over her embroidered cambric +smock by strings of pearls. Her snow-white shoulders peep half out of +the short, puffed sleeves, which are fastened in the middle by huge opal +clasps, leaving bare her exquisitely-shaped arms. She wears bracelets of +large oriental pearls, and a pale pink rose is stuck nonchalantly in her +bosom.</p> + +<p>The guests sitting at the far end of the table are plainly scandalized +by the coquettish ways of the siren, who, although she has a +marriageable daughter, still presumes to appear publicly in an open +kirtle; but the Prince, the impetuous Banfi, and even her own dove-like +husband, who worships his wife, appear to be all the more delighted with +her in consequence.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>The drinking wager had already somewhat exhilarated the worthy +gentlemen, so that they began to mingle their songs with the music which +had been playing in the gallery ever since the banquet began, when the +captain of the guard, Gabriel Haller, suddenly rushed into the room with +a very serious face, and hastening to the Prince, whispered a couple of +words in his ear. Kemeny looked first at him and then at the glass he +held in his hand, emptied it with the utmost composure, and then burst +into a loud peal of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Pray tell your tidings to the company, that they may know what is going +on," cried he to Haller, in a loud voice.</p> + +<p>Haller hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Come! Out with it. You could not, if you tried, invent anything half so +entertaining. Stop playing up there, will you! This is something like a +joke."</p> + +<p>The company urged Haller to lose no time in passing the joke on.</p> + +<p>"There is not much to tell," said Haller, shrugging his shoulders. "It +is only that Ali Pasha has proclaimed Michael Apafi Prince of +Transylvania."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" resounded on all sides. The Prince, with comic +affectation, turned first to one and then to the other.</p> + +<p>"Who is the individual? Does any one know him? Has anybody ever heard of +him?"</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi turned pale and clung tightly to her husband's arm, who +leaned his elbow on the table and replied with sublime indifference—</p> + +<p>"The poor devil is, I believe, a very distant connection of mine. He has +married some relation or other of my wife's. He was for a long time a +slave among the Tartars, and the Turks (being wroth with us just now) +have no doubt only released him on condition that he allows himself to +be made Prince. He must be clean out of his senses."</p> + +<p>At this all the gentlemen laughed still more loudly than before.</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll go and inaugurate him," said Kemeny sarcastically, throwing +back his head.</p> + +<p>"That has already been done, your Highness," put in Haller.</p> + +<p>"Where? By whom?" asked the good-humoured Prince, with arched eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"At Kis-Selyk, by the Diet!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>Kemeny intimated by a wave of his hand and a contraction of his eyebrows +that this explanation was not quite clear to him.</p> + +<p>"Who then were present? Where were the Estates? All the men of any +importance in the land are here with us."</p> + +<p>"There were Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, Kun, Daczo, and some two hundred +Szeklers."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll go and count them as soon as we have disposed of our other +affairs," said the Prince contemptuously. "Pray give Master Haller a +chair!"</p> + +<p>"But they are not awaiting us there. They are marching against us. By +this time they must be at Segesvar."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Kemeny. "I suppose, then, Master Michael Apafi +thinks to drive us out of the country with his couple of hundred +Szeklers."</p> + +<p>But now Wenzinger rose from his chair, and remarked with soldierly +precision—</p> + +<p>"Does your Highness wish me to concentrate the army? We have eight +thousand armed men, and, if it please your Highness, we will disperse +this mob of nondescripts so effectually that not a couple of them shall +remain together."</p> + +<p>"Keep your seat!" commanded Kemeny, who treated the whole affair with +the most sovereign contempt. "Sit down again and drink! Let them come a +little nearer! Why should we inconvenience ourselves by going out +against them? We can then take the whole lot together bag and baggage. I +much regret, my lord Denis Banfi, that this fellow is a kinsman of +yours; but, out of regard for you, I will take care that he is not +broken on the wheel—I will simply have him <i>stuffed</i>!"</p> + +<p>Kemeny's witticism was received with uproarious laughter.</p> + +<p>"Give Master Haller a glass. And you up there! go on playing where you +left off."</p> + +<p>And once more the music resounded. The gipsy band now played a +<i>csárdás</i>.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> The gentlemen clinked glasses and sang in unison. The +guards outside joined in the song. The glasses flew against the wall. +Every one was ready to dash his glass into a thousand pieces except +Gabriel Haller, who, being the last comer and therefore tolerably +sober,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> was ashamed to destroy the expensive Venetian crystals so +recklessly.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <i>Csárdás</i> [pr. <i>chárdásh</i>]. The national dance of Hungary. +It is danced in 3/4 time by single couples, who improvise the figures. +It commences with a very slow and stately movement, gradually quickening +into a furious gallop.</p></div> + +<p>"Come! down with it! Let the splinters fly!" roared the Prince at him, +and to please his Highness Haller dutifully but gingerly rapped his +glass against the table till it broke off clean at the neck, quite +decently and respectably, whereupon he bowed low to his Highness with +obsequious humility.</p> + +<p>Dame Banfi sighed at the thought of her kinswoman; but Banfi, to show +how very little he cared about the matter, leaped from his chair, and +with the wild music of the <i>csárdás</i> ringing in his ears, invited the +lovely Lady Beldi to a dance.</p> + +<p>The merry siren did not require twice bidding. Banfi passed his arm +around her slender waist, pressed her tightly to his breast, and whirled +away with her. The fiery beauty hung with elfin airiness on her +partner's arm.</p> + +<p>Then all the other gentlemen present, carried away by Banfi's example, +also leaped from their seats and whirled away with their fair +neighbours, till the whole company resolved itself into a maze of +fantastically revolving figures, every one dancing, applauding, and +huzzahing to his heart's content.</p> + +<p>Banfi was an impetuous, hot-blooded man who loved pretty women in +general and at all times. Now, moreover, he was heated with wine, and +thus it came about that as his lovely partner was dangling on his arm +and her glowing cheeks came very near to his, he suddenly so far forgot +himself as to press the bewitching dame to his breast and imprint a +burning kiss upon her lips.</p> + +<p>Lady Beldi shrieked aloud, and instantly repulsed the self-forgetful +Lothario. Banfi, much confused, cast a glance around him; but apparently +every one was so taken up with his own amusement, that neither the +shriek nor the kiss had been observed.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, Lady Beldi, very much offended, left off dancing, and when +Banfi began stammering some sort of an apology, she sharply told him to +be off and leave her.</p> + +<p>Banfi will one day have to pay very dearly for that kiss!</p> + +<p>Nobody had observed it, however, save him whom it most concerned—the +husband. Beldi's eyes had seen it. Oh! you must not imagine that an +uxorious husband is never jealous. Even though he makes as though he +hears and sees nothing, he sees and hears and observes all the same. He +had seen Banfi kiss his wife, although he feigned not to perceive his +consort's confusion as, excited and indignant, she went in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> search of +him. He took her by the hand and led her out of the room. When they got +outside, he bade her go to her lodgings and dress for a journey.</p> + +<p>"Whither are we going?" asked the agitated lady.</p> + +<p>"Home to Bodola!"</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Of all the guests, Denis Banfi was the only one who saw them quit the +room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_V" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">BODOLA.</span></h2> + + +<p>In one of the innermost recesses of the county of Felsö-Feher, when you +have left behind you the Boza Pass, or avoided it by taking one of the +narrow footpaths which wind along the mountain side, you will come in +sight of the Tatrang valley.</p> + +<p>On every side of you are hills wrapped in lilac-coloured mists, and +behind the hills the heaven-aspiring peak of Kapri, glistening with +early-fallen snow. From the mist-shrouded valley below emerge four or +five villages, with their white houses sending up bluish smoke-wreaths +among the green orchards. The little Tatrang stream winds, silvery blue, +in and out among the quiet villages, forming cascades in its downward +progress, which in the dim distance look like fleecy mists. The clouds +sink so deeply down into the valleys that their golden, veil-like shapes +hide first this and then that object from the eyes of the observer on +the hill-tops. There you can see Hosszufalva, with its far-stretching +street. There, again, the tiny church of Zajzonfalva, whose pointed, +tin-covered roof gleams far and wide in the rays of the sun. Tatrang +lies on the banks of the stream, just where a large wooden bridge has +been thrown across it. Far, very far off, black and misty, are to be +seen the walls of Kronstadt and the blue outlines of the still unscathed +citadel. In the valley just below you is the straggling village of +Bodola. The houses lie low, but the church stands on rising ground, and +opposite the village you notice a sort of small fortress with broad +towers, black bastions, and projecting battlements. The western bastion +is built on a steep rock, whence there is a fall of three hundred feet +on to the roofs of the houses below.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>It is only in the distance, however, that the castle looks so gloomy. On +approaching nearer, you perceive that what had seemed, from afar, to be +a dark green belt of bushes, is really a wreath of flower-gardens thrown +round the ramparts. The large Gothic windows are adorned with handsome +sculptures and stained glass. A well-kept, serpentine path winds up the +steep rock, and there is a mossy stone seat at every bend. Where the +rock is most precipitous a breastwork has been thrown up. The pointed +turrets of the castle are all painted red, and adorned with fantastic +weathercocks.</p> + +<p>The path leading through the Boza Pass to Kronstadt is not more than an +hour's journey from this little castle, and along this path, at the very +time when Prince John Kemeny was still regaling himself at Hermannstadt, +we see a long line of cavalry wending their way into the valley +below—two thousand Turkish horsemen, or thereabouts, distinguishable +from afar by the scarlet tips of their turbans and their snow-white +kaftans. Among them are some hundreds of Wallachian irregulars in brown +gabardines and long black <i>csalmaks</i>.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <i>Csalmak</i> [pr. <i>chalmak</i>]. A low, skin turban.</p></div> + +<p>The way is so narrow here that the horsemen can only proceed along in +couples, so that while the rearguard is still painfully making its way +through the narrow defile between converging rocks, the vanguard has +already reached Tatrang.</p> + +<p>The Turkish general is a middling-sized, sunburnt man, with eyes as bold +and bellicose as an eagle's. A large scar runs right across his +forehead. His beard curls in little locks around his chin. His moustache +is twisted fiercely upwards on both sides, making one suspect an +excessively fiery temper in its possessor, a suspicion confirmed by his +hard and curt mode of speech, the haughty carriage of his head, and the +impatient movements of his body.</p> + +<p>He halts his little army outside the village, to give the rearmost time +to come up. Last of all roll a few wagons and a large pumpkin-shaped +coach. This is all the heavy baggage which the Turks carry with them. +The rearguard is led by a child whose round, cherub face contrasts +strangely with his glittering scimitar and his grave, commanding look. +He cannot be more than twelve. Inside the coach, the curtains of which +are thrown back on both sides so as to freely admit the evening air, we +perceive a young lady of about five-and-twenty years of age, dressed +half in Turkish, half in Christian costume, for she wears the wide +silken hose and the short blue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> open kaftan of the Turkish ladies, but +has taken off her turban, and her face, contrary to Turkish custom, is +without a veil. She gazes with the utmost composure out of the carriage +window, bestowing her attention now upon the landscape and now upon the +passing peasants.</p> + +<p>The Turkish commander is marshalling his forces in the village below. +They seem used to the strictest discipline. Every one looks steadily at +his leader without moving a muscle. At the head of the left wing stands +the little boy; a tall, muscular man leads the right. The Wallachs are +drawn up in the rear.</p> + +<p>"My brave fellows,"—the Pasha addresses his troops in a hard, sharp +voice—"you will pitch your tents here! Every one will remain in his +place hard by his saddled horse, without laying aside arms or armour. +Ferhad Aga<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> with twelve men will go into the village and respectfully +ask the magistrate to send hither forty hundredweights of bread, just as +much flesh, and double as much hay and oats, at the average price of +four asper<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> per pound, neither more nor less."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>Aga.</i> An honorary title among the Turks, here equivalent +to lieutenant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> <i>Asper.</i> A small silver coin worth about fifteen to twenty +kreutzers.</p></div> + +<p>Then the Pasha turned towards the Wallachs—</p> + +<p>"You, dogs! don't suppose that we have come hither to plunder! Stir not +from this spot, for if I find out that so much as a goose has been +stolen from the village, I'll hang up your leaders and decimate the rest +of you!"</p> + +<p>He then selected four horsemen.</p> + +<p>"You will follow me," said he; "the rest remain here. This very night we +resume our march. During my absence Feriz Beg commands."</p> + +<p>The little boy bowed.</p> + +<p>"If Feriz Beg receives orders from me to quit you, you will obey Ferhad +Aga till I return."</p> + +<p>With that the Pasha struck his spurs into his horse's sides, and +galloped with his escort towards Bodola.</p> + +<p>Then the boy whom the Pasha had called Feriz Beg rode forward with +soldierly assurance, and in a deep, sonorous voice gave the order to +dismount. His hard-mouthed Arab plunged, kicked, and reared, but the +little commander, heedless of the capers of his steed, delivered his +further orders with perfect self-possession.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Pasha pursued his way towards Bodola Castle.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>Paul Beldi had arrived there only the day before with his wife, having +quitted Kemeny's Court without a word of explanation, and was standing +in the porch at the moment when the Turkish horsemen trotted into the +courtyard. In those days the relations of Transylvania with the Turks +were so peculiar, that visits of this kind might be made at any time +without any previous announcement.</p> + +<p>The Pasha no sooner beheld Beldi, than he sprang from his horse, ran up +the steps to him, and brusquely presented himself—"I am Kucsuk Pasha. +Being in the way, I came to have a word with thee if thou canst listen."</p> + +<p>"Command me," replied Beldi, pointing to the reception-room, and +motioning to his guest to enter first.</p> + +<p>It was a square-built room, the walls of which were painted with +oriental landscapes, the spaces between the windows being filled by +large cut-glass mirrors in steel frames. The marble floor was covered +with large variegated carpets. Round about the walls hung ancestral +pictures, with clusters here and there of ancient weapons of strange +shape and construction. In the middle of the room stood a large green +marble table with fantastically twisted legs. Huge arm-chairs with +morocco coverings and ponderous carvings were dispersed about the room. +Facing the entrance was a door leading to a balcony, commanding a +panorama of the snow-capped mountains. The evening twilight cast red and +lilac patches through the painted windows on the faces of those who are +now entering.</p> + +<p>"How can I serve you?" inquired Beldi of the Pasha.</p> + +<p>"Thou art well aware," replied Kucsuk, "that great discord now prevails +in this country on account of the throne."</p> + +<p>"It does not concern me. I have made up my mind to remain neutral."</p> + +<p>"I have not come hither to beg for thy advice or assistance in that +matter; the sword will decide it. What brings me to thee is a purely +family affair which concerns me deeply."</p> + +<p>Beldi, much surprised, made his guest sit down beside him.</p> + +<p>"Speak," said he.</p> + +<p>"Thou mayest perhaps have heard, that once upon a time a daughter of the +Kallay family fell in love with a young Turkish horseman, naturally +without the consent of her kinsfolk?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've heard of it. People say that the young Turk was equally +victorious in love and in war."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>"Possibly. His victories in war, however, have disqualified him from +being the Knight of Love. Thou seest that my face is furrowed with +scars; know that I am the man who wedded that woman!"</p> + +<p>Beldi began to regard the Pasha with curiosity and astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I have continued to love that woman devotedly," pursued the Pasha. +"That may appear strange to thee in the mouth of a Turk, but so it is. I +have had neither wife nor concubine beside her. She has borne me a son, +of whom I am proud. My affairs just now are in such a critical condition +that I must, with God's help, work wonders, or perish on the +battle-field. Thou knowest that the religion of Mahommed highly commends +such a death. I have therefore no anxiety on that score. It is the +thought of my wife which disturbs me. If she should lose me and my son, +she would be in great straits. She would be persecuted in Turkey because +she remained a Christian; she would be persecuted in Transylvania +because she married a Mussulman. There my kinsfolk, here her own, are +her enemies. I come to thee therefore with a petition. I have heard tell +of thee as an honourable man, and of thy wife as a worthy woman. Receive +my consort into thy family circle. She will not be a burden to thee, for +I leave her everything I possess. All she wants is thy protection. If +thou dost promise me that, thou canst count upon my eternal friendship +and gratitude, and mayst command my fortune, my sword, and my life in +case I survive."</p> + +<p>Beldi pressed the hand of the Pasha.</p> + +<p>"Bring your wife hither. I and my family will welcome her as a +kinswoman."</p> + +<p>"I may bring her then?"</p> + +<p>"We shall be delighted to see her," returned Beldi; and he commanded his +retainers to escort the Pasha's suite back to Tatrang with torches, and +fetch from thence his carriage.</p> + +<p>Kucsuk sent word by them that Feriz Beg was to come too.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Beldi introduced Kucsuk to his wife, and he was not a little +delighted to find that she recollected the Pasha's wife as one of her +girlish friends, whom she looked forward to see again with sincere joy +and some curiosity.</p> + +<p>After the lapse of some hours the carriage rumbled noisily into the +well-paved courtyard. Feriz Beg escorted it on horseback.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>Lady Beldi hastened down the steps to meet the Pasha's wife as she +stepped out of the coach, and received her with a cry of joy—"What! +Catharine! Do you still know me?"</p> + +<p>The lady immediately recognized her youthful playfellow, and the two +friends rushed into each other's arms, kissed again and again, and said +of course the sweetest things to each other—"Why, darling, you are more +handsome than ever!"—"And you, dear! What a stately woman you have +grown!" etc., etc., etc.</p> + +<p>"Look, this is my son," said Catharine, pointing to Feriz Beg, who, +after dismounting, had hastened with childlike tenderness to help his +mother out of her coach.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a little darling!" cried Lady Beldi, quite enchanted, and +covering the rosy-cheeked child with kisses.</p> + +<p>If only she had known that this child was a child no longer, but a +general!</p> + +<p>"And I've got children too!" continued Lady Beldi, with maternal +emulation. "You shall see them! Does your son speak Hungarian?"</p> + +<p>"Hungarian!" cried Catharine, almost offended; "what! the child of an +Hungarian mother, and not speak Hungarian! How can you ask such a +question?"</p> + +<p>"So much the better," said Lady Beldi, "the children will become friends +all the more quickly. From henceforth you belong to the family. Our +husbands have settled all that already, and we shall be so delighted!"</p> + +<p>The amiable and sprightly housewife then embraced her friend once more, +took Feriz Beg by the hand, and led them both into the family circle, +chatting merrily all the time, and asking and answering a thousand +questions.</p> + +<p>A cheerful fire was sparkling in the chimney of the ladies' cabinet. +Large flowered-silk curtains darkened the walls. On a little ivory table +ticked a gorgeous clock, ablaze with rubies and chrysoprases. Sofas +covered in cornflower-blue velvet offered you a luxurious repose. On a +round table in the centre of the room, from which an embroidered Persian +tapestry fell in rich folds to the ground, stood a heavy candelabrum of +massive silver, representing a siren holding on high a taper in each of +her outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>In front of the fine white marble chimney-piece were Dame Beldi's +children. The elder, Sophia, a tall, slight, bashful-looking beauty of +some fourteen summers, was bustling about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> the fire. She still wore her +hair as children do, thrown back in two long, large plaits which reached +almost to her heels. This girl was afterwards Paul Wesselenyi's consort.</p> + +<p>The second child, a little girl of about four, was kneeling at the feet +of her elder sister, and throwing dried flowers into the fire. She went +by the name of <i>Aranka</i>, which in Hungarian means "little goldy," for +she carried her name on her locks, which flowed over her round little +shoulders in light golden waves. Her vivacious features, sparkling eyes, +and tiny hands are never still, and now too she is mischievously teasing +and thwarting her elder sister, laughing aloud with artless glee +whenever Sophia, naturally without succeeding in the least, tries to be +very angry.</p> + +<p>On hearing footsteps and voices at the door, both children spring up +hastily. The elder one, perceiving strangers, tries to smooth the +creases out of her dress, while Aranka rushes uproariously to her +mother, embraces her knees, and looks up at her with her plump little +smiling face.</p> + +<p>"These are my children," said Lady Beldi with inward satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Catharine embraced the elder girl, who shyly presented her forehead to +be kissed.</p> + +<p>"And here's your cousin, little Feriz. You must kiss him too!" said Lady +Beldi, pushing together the bashful children, who scarcely dared to +press the tips of their lips together. Sophia immediately afterwards +blushed right up to the ears, and rushed out of the room. Nothing would +induce her to show herself again that evening.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you shamefaced mimosa!" cried Lady Beldi, laughing loudly. "Why, +Aranka is braver than you. Eh, my little girl? You're not afraid to kiss +Cousin Feriz, are you?"</p> + +<p>The little thing looked up at the boy and drew back, clinging fast all +the time to her mother's skirts, but never once removing her large, +dark-blue eyes from Feriz, who knelt down, took the little girl in his +arms, and gave her a hearty kiss on her round, rosy cheeks.</p> + +<p>Having gone safely through this ordeal, Aranka was quite at home with +her new acquaintance. She bade the Turkish cousin sit him down on a +stool by the fire, and, laying her head on his lap, began asking him +questions about everything he wore, from the hilt of his scimitar to the +plume in his turban—absolutely nothing escaped her curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Let the children play!" cried Lady Beldi merrily, as with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> high +good-humour she led her friend out upon the balcony, from whence they +could survey the whole Tatrang valley now floating in the bright +moonlight.</p> + +<p>Here the two women—while the men were engaged with serious matters, and +the children were playing—here the two women entered into one of those +long confidential chats which young ladies find so charming when they +are by themselves, especially when they have as much to ask and answer +as these two had.</p> + +<p>Kucsuk Pasha's wife was a middling-sized, powerfully-built woman. Her +well-rounded bosom and broad shoulders were shown off by her +tight-fitting kaftan, which was fastened round the waist by a girdle of +gold thread, and reached somewhat lower down than is usual with the +dresses of Turkish ladies, just permitting a glance at her wide, +flowing, red silk pantaloons and her dainty little yellow slippers. Her +face, if a trifle too stern and hard, was yet most lovely; her full and +florid complexion betokened a somewhat choleric temperament; her thick, +coal-black eyebrows had almost grown together, and her gaze was burning +in its intensity.</p> + +<p>Lady Beldi made her sit down by her side, took her familiarly by the +hand, and playfully asked—</p> + +<p>"Your husband then has no other wife but you?"</p> + +<p>Catharine laughed, and replied with just a shade of impatience—</p> + +<p>"I suppose, now, you fancy that an Hungarian woman has only to wed a +Turk to instantly become his slave? You have no idea how dearly my +husband loves me."</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it, Catharine. But recollect that my question related to +what has long been customary among you."</p> + +<p>"Among us! My dear, I am not a Turkish woman!"</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"A Christian, just as you are. We were married by a Calvinist minister, +the Rev. Martin Biro, now an exile in Constantinople, and for whom my +husband, out of gratitude, has built a church where the Hungarians and +Transylvanians who dwell there may attend divine service."</p> + +<p>"Really! Then your husband does not persecute the Christians?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. He believes that every religion is good, as leading to +heaven, but that his own faith is the best, as opening the gate of the +very highest heaven. Moreover, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> husband has a very good heart, and is +much more enlightened than most of his fellows."</p> + +<p>"But why have you not tried to convert him to the Christian religion?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I? Because our poets regularly conclude their love-romances +in which a Turk falls in love with a Christian girl, by bringing him to +baptism and dressing him in a mente instead of a kaftan? Here, however, +you have one of those romances of real life, in which a woman follows +her spouse and sacrifices everything for him."</p> + +<p>"No doubt you are right, Catharine; but you must let me get used to the +idea that a Christian, let alone an Hungarian, girl may wed a Turk."</p> + +<p>"And listen, dear Lady Beldi: surely God would have imputed less merit +to me, if I had converted my husband to our faith, instead of leaving +him in the faith wherein he was born? As a Christian renegade he would +have occupied but a humble place in our little church; while as one of +the most influential of the Pashas, he has made the fate of all the +Christians in Turkey so tolerable, that the Christian subjects of other +states flock over to us as to a land of promise. Often, when he has +received his share of the spoils of battle, he has handed me a long list +with the names of those of my enslaved countrymen whom he has ransomed +at a great price. He has expended immense treasures in this way. And +believe me, love, the perusal of such a list gives me more pleasure than +the sight of the most beautiful oriental pearls which my husband might +easily have purchased with the amount, and it has raised him higher in +my estimation than if he had learnt the whole Psalter by heart. And he +is not the man to break the word he has once given, whether it be to God +or to his fellow-man. If he were capable of abjuring his religion, I +could believe no longer in his love, for then he would cease to be him +whom I have always known; he would cease to be the man who, when once he +has said a thing, always abides by it, never goes back from, and is to +be moved neither by the terrors of death nor the tears of a woman."</p> + +<p>Lady Beldi embraced her friend, and kissed her glowing cheeks.</p> + +<p>"You are right, my good Catharine! 'Tis our prejudices that prevent us +from rising higher than everyday thoughts. It is true. Love also has her +faith, her religion. But how about your country? Have you never thought +of that?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>Catharine rose with proud self-satisfaction from her seat, and pressed +her friend's hand.</p> + +<p>"Let this convince you that I indeed love my country. I am about to +sacrifice for it the lives of my husband and my son, whom perhaps I now +behold for the last time."</p> + +<p>Lady Beldi's face plainly showed that she did not quite grasp the +meaning of these words, and Catharine was about to explain them to her, +when a servant announced that the gentlemen had long been awaiting them +in the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Lady Beldi thereupon gave her arm to her friend and led her into the +dining-room. The children had already become such close friends that +Aranka allowed Feriz Beg to carry her in to dinner, playing all the time +with childish coquetry with the diamond clasp of his agraffe.</p> + +<p>The lady of the house assigned to every one his place. Catharine took +the upper end of the table. On her right sat the Pasha, on her left the +hostess. The host took his place at the lower end of the table. Feriz +and Aranka sat side by side. Opposite Feriz was an empty place, the shy +Sophia's, whom nothing could induce to come to dinner.</p> + +<p>Catharine seeing that a large wine-jug was placed in front of her +husband, quickly seized it in order to exchange it for a cut-glass +caraffe full of pure, sparkling spring water. Lady Beldi remarked the +action, and glanced mischievously at her embarrassed friend.</p> + +<p>"He never drinks wine," said Catharine apologetically. "It is not good +for him. He is of a somewhat excitable nature."</p> + +<p>Kucsuk smiled and lifted Catharine's hand to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Why gloss over the truth? Why not say straight out that I do not drink +wine because the Koran forbids it, because I am a Mussulman?"</p> + +<p>Beldi shook his head at his wife and pointed at the children in order to +give another turn to the conversation.</p> + +<p>"It looks as if your son were already quite at home with us, Kucsuk. You +shall see, when you come back, what a Magyar we have made of him."</p> + +<p>Kucsuk and Feriz exchanged a proud and rapid glance, and then both of +them looked at Beldi.</p> + +<p>The child's features had suddenly and completely changed; at that moment +he looked wondrously like his father. There was the same hard, stony +glance, the same defiant bearing, the same haughty elevation of the +brows.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>"So thou dost imagine, Beldi," said Kucsuk severely, "that I only +brought my son hither to leave him with thee?"</p> + +<p>"But surely you do not mean to take that child with you to battle?"</p> + +<p>"Child dost thou call him! He is already the commander of four hundred +mounted Spahis; has already been in three engagements; has had two +horses shot under him, and is to command the left wing of my forces in +the impending battle."</p> + +<p>The Beldis looked with amazement at the child, who, with all eyes fixed +upon him, assumed his most manly air.</p> + +<p>"But I hope that you will at least keep him by your side in the heat of +the fight?" said Lady Beldi, much disturbed.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I lead the centre. He too will give a good account of +himself. When I was his age I already wore the Nishan<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> order on my +breast, and I hope that this time he will not return home without having +at least deserved it."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <i>Nishan Order.</i> A Turkish order of merit for valour, +instituted by Selim III. It consisted of a gold medallion bearing the +Sultan's effigy.</p></div> + +<p>"But if it comes to a <i>mêlée</i>, and he is in danger?" continued Lady +Beldi, with increasing apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Then he will fight as a brave soldier should," returned Kucsuk, +stroking his moustache, which immediately twisted upwards of its own +accord.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no; he is far too tender to sustain a conflict with grown men!" +cried Dame Beldi compassionately.</p> + +<p>"Feriz," cried Kucsuk to his son, "just take down that sabre from the +wall, and show our friends that thou canst wield it like a man."</p> + +<p>The boy sprang up, and, proudly confident in his own strength, chose +from the weapons that hung on the wall not a sabre but a huge +club—seized it by the extreme end of the handle, and swung it with +outstretched arms in every direction with an ease and a dexterity which +would have done honour to any man. His feat was rewarded by enthusiastic +applause.</p> + +<p>"Deuce take it!" cried the astonished Beldi; "that is what I call a good +graft, a Magyar scion on a Turkish stock. You did not carry off his +mother for nothing. Come, Kucsuk—give me that lad!"</p> + +<p>"Be it so! But give me thy daughter."</p> + +<p>"Which? Make your choice."</p> + +<p>"She who sits next to him. When she has grown up they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> will make a good +pair, and then we shall both have a son and a daughter."</p> + +<p>Beldi laughed heartily, and both the women exchanged a smile. Kucsuk +looked with an air of satisfaction at his son, who took his aigrette +from his turban, tore off the diamond buckle which had pleased Aranka so +much, and handed it to the little girl with lavish gallantry. The child +timidly stretched out her tiny hand towards the costly gift, the +material as well as the moral worth of which she was far from +suspecting, but which nothing in the world would now have made her +relinquish.</p> + +<p>The parents suddenly became silent. Their faces still wore a smile, but +there was a melancholy earnestness in their eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VI" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZÖLLÖS.</span></h2> + + +<p>Meanwhile Michael Apafi, comforted by Ali Pasha's assurance that help +was nigh at hand, had thrown himself into Segesvar, and there awaited +the turn of Fortune's wheel. John Kemeny came out against him with a +vast host. He had with him an imposing array of German and Hungarian +troops, but what his army really wanted was an enterprising general.</p> + +<p>Michael Apafi had very little to oppose to such a host—a few hundred +stubborn, undisciplinable Szekler spearmen, a handful of Saxon burghers, +and a bodyguard of blue Janissaries, altogether only about a tenth part +of Kemeny's army.</p> + +<p>Acting therefore on the advice of his brother Stephen, the Prince +resolved to remain strictly on the defensive at Segesvar till +auxiliaries should reach him from his Turkish protector. This resolution +pleased the Saxon burghers immensely, for they were well able to defend +themselves behind the walls of their own city, but never felt quite at +ease in the open field. Upon the Szeklers, however, Apafi's resolution +produced just the contrary effect.</p> + +<p>It was Nalaczi's mission to keep the Szeklers in a martial humour, and +one evening he took them all into the tavern, and filled them with such +ardour that at break of day they marched clamorously beneath the windows +of the Prince, and swore by hook and by crook that they must have one of +the city gates opened for them at once, so that they might fall upon +Kemeny there and then and fight him to the death.</p> + +<p>The Prince and his counsellors went down among them in great alarm, and +tried in every way to make it clear to them that Kemeny's suite alone +was more numerous than all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> Szeklers put together; that at least +one-half of his army was armed with muskets, whereas with them scarcely +any one except the Saxon burghers knew even how to use fire-arms; and +that if they rushed out at one door, the enemy would rush in at the +other, and then there would be neither outside nor inside—and much more +to the same effect.</p> + +<p>But whoever fancies he can drive out of a Szekler's head what he has +once got into it is mightily mistaken.</p> + +<p>"Either you must let us march against the foe or home we go!" cried +they. "We don't mean to lie here for the next ten years like the +Trojans, for there's work to be done at home. Apportion, therefore, so +many of the enemy to each one of us; let every man go out and slay his +lot, and then in God's name dismiss us. We won't submit to be blockaded +and rationed on dog and rat-flesh."</p> + +<p>"My good fellows, if you don't like stopping here, go home by all +means," was Apafi's ultimatum; "but to fight a battle in my +circumstances were mere madness."</p> + +<p>The Szeklers did not waste another word; but they seized their wallets, +shouldered their lances, and marched out of Segesvar as if they never +had had anything to do with it.</p> + +<p>From that moment the Szeklers became Apafi's enemies to his dying day.</p> + +<p>Next day Kemeny's host stood beneath the walls of the town where Apafi +now barely had armed men sufficient to guard the gates.</p> + +<p>The siege operations were entrusted to Wenzinger as having had most +experience in warfare. This great general, true to the principles of the +school in which he had been brought up, first of all carefully surveyed +every inch of his ground; then he cautiously occupied every position +which by any possibility might become important, and took care also that +the besieging host should be covered at all points—in short, he so spun +out his preparations by his systematic way of going to work, that by the +time he had really begun to think about the siege, tidings reached him +that the Turkish auxiliaries were advancing by forced marches. Thereupon +(still faithful to his system) he re-concentrated his scattered forces, +and prepared to march against the Turks, the Hungarian gentry being +ready to a man to follow him. But John Kemeny was against a general +advance, holding that if the Turkish contingent was strong enough to put +his forces to flight, he would have Segesvar in his rear, and thus would +be caught between two fires. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> therefore preferred to await his +opponent's attack, and retiring in consequence from the town, pitched +his camp at Nagy Szöllös, whence he looked calmly on while Kucsuk +Pasha's horsemen, amid the bray of clarions, made their entry into +Segesvar.</p> + +<p>Apafi had eaten and drunk nothing for three days from sheer anxiety at +the straits into which he had fallen, through no fault of his own, when +word was brought him of the arrival of the auxiliaries. It was late in +the evening when Kucsuk Pasha, after a fatiguing march along +unfrequented mountain paths, entered the town. Apafi rode out to meet +him, and saluted the Turks as his guardian angels. But great indeed was +his astonishment, after mustering the troops twice or thrice, to find +that at the very highest estimate they were only a fifth part of the +forces opposed to him.</p> + +<p>"What does your Excellency mean to do with this little band?" he +uneasily asked the Pasha.</p> + +<p>"God alone knows, who reads the destiny of man in heaven above," +returned Kucsuk with laconic fatalism; and that was all that the Prince +could get out of him. That night the Turks pitched their tents in the +market-place, immediately opposite the dwelling of the Prince.</p> + +<p>Apafi, after so many sleepless nights, could at last enjoy repose. It +did his heart good to hear beneath his windows the snorting of the +war-horses and the sabre-clattering of the sentries, and he gradually +dozed off in the midst of the comforting hubbub, reflecting, that with +such an army he could at least defend himself for some time, and that +meanwhile a great many things might happen. Long before daybreak, +however, he was awakened by the hammering of planks, the usual signal to +the Turkish cavalry to feed their horses. "They feed their horses very +early in the morning," thought the Prince, and he turned over on to the +other side and again fell asleep. While still half-dreaming he fancied +he heard the songs of the dervishes, songs apt to make even the wakeful +feel drowsy. Then a loud and sudden flourish of trumpets once more +aroused his Highness from his slumbers. "Egad! What are they about in +the middle of the night?" cried he peevishly; got up, looked out of the +window, and saw that the Turks were all sitting motionless on their +horses in the dark. Then came a second flourish, and the whole squadron +started off, the clattering of the horses' hoofs on the paving-stones +and the watch-words of the sentinels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> resounding far and wide through +the silent night. "This Pasha is a very restless man," thought Apafi. +"Even at night, and after so many fatigues, he grudges his men their +proper repose." And with that he again turned in, and fell into a yet +sweeter sleep, from which he only awoke on the following morning.</p> + +<p>The sun stood high in the heavens when Apafi rang for his steward and +factotum, John Cserey.</p> + +<p>The first question he put to him was, "What is the Pasha about?"</p> + +<p>"He quitted the town last night, and sent back a messenger, who has been +waiting outside there ever since dawn to deliver his message."</p> + +<p>"Let him come in at once," cried Apafi, and he began hastily to dress.</p> + +<p>Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, and Daczo entered the Prince's apartments at the +same time as Kucsuk's messenger. They too had been waiting for the last +two hours for the Prince to awake, and were very curious to hear the +Pasha's message.</p> + +<p>"Speak quickly!" cried Apafi to the Turk, who bowed to the ground, +folded his arms across his breast, and said—</p> + +<p>"Illustrious Prince! my master, Kucsuk Pasha, speaks these words to thee +through the mouth of thy servant: Remain quietly in Segesvar and be of +good cheer. Let the troops that are with thee mount guard upon the +walls. Meantime my master, Kucsuk Pasha, is marching against John +Kemeny, and will fight him wherever he meets him, yea! though he lose +his host to a man, yet will he fight with him to the death."</p> + +<p>The Prince was so confounded by these tidings that he had not a word to +say for himself. Kucsuk's forces were scarcely a fifth part of Kemeny's, +and, moreover, they were still exhausted by their forced marches. To +expect a victory under such circumstances was to look for miracles.</p> + +<p>"Let us make up our minds for the worst and trust in God," said Stephen +Apafi; and, under the circumstances, this was perhaps the most sensible +thing that could have been said.</p> + +<p>So Michael Apafi let things take their own course. If any one had a mind +to guard the walls he was free to do so. So the commanders left the +soldiers to their own devices, and the soldiers did nothing at all. The +fate of the realm lay in God's hands in the fullest sense of the word, +for man had withdrawn his hand from it altogether. One thing, however, +the Prince<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> did. He sent old Cserey up to the top of the church tower +that he might keep a good look-out, and come and tell his master the +moment he saw troops approaching.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>John Kemeny had established himself at Nagy Szöllös, which is a few +hours' journey from Segesvar. He had fixed his head-quarters at the +parsonage there, and to this day the little room is pointed out in which +he slept for the last time, as well as the round hillock in the garden, +where stood at that time a pretty little wooden summer-house in which +the Prince began the dinner which he never finished.</p> + +<p>The Hungarian gentlemen had a long debate with Wenzinger and the Prince +about the plan of campaign. Some were for taking the town by storm, +others preferred starving it out by a blockade.</p> + +<p>Wenzinger shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Allow me, gentlemen, to express my opinion also," said the experienced +German. "I am an old soldier. I have knocked about in all manner of +campaigns; I know the value of numbers in war, but also the value of +position, and well understand how to weigh the one against the other. I +have learnt by experience that one hundred men under favourable +conditions are often more than a match for a thousand. I also know how +enthusiasm or indifference can multiply or diminish numbers. I can also +calculate the relative importance of the various kinds of arms; nor is +the military value of patriotism an unknown quantity to me. Now we have +ten thousand men, and there are not more than three thousand opposed to +us. But we must not lose sight of the fact, that the greater part of our +Hungarian forces consists of cavalry, and to storm walls with cavalry is +clearly impossible. Scarcely less impossible is it to persuade the +mounted Hungarians to fight on foot. I would further remark, that +although the Hungarian is a veritable hero when he stands face to face +with a foreign foe, nevertheless, whenever I have seen him called upon +to fight against his own countrymen (and often enough have I had that +opportunity) he becomes as slothful and indifferent as if he were only +awaiting the first pretext for taking to his heels. Then, again, we +possess a troop of Servians, whom I consider very good shots, and if we +only had them safely behind the walls of that town we might buckle to it +against a ten-fold superiority; but outside fortifications these people +are scarcely worth anything: they are strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> enough to defend, but not +strong enough to storm a bastion. We ought therefore to demolish the +walls as soon as possible: but then, again, we have no cannon, and would +have to send as far as Temesvar for our field-artillery, and while they +were on their way to us along the vile roads—and of course it is a +further question whether the commandant there would send them at all at +our bidding—Ali Pasha would have time to return with fresh troops, and +we should lose all our labour. I consider, therefore, that we ought not +to remain here any longer. We are incapable of conquering that fortress +either by assault or blockade. We cannot, on the other hand, suppose +that the enemy would be insane enough to be lured into the open field. +The most prudent thing, therefore, that we can do under such +circumstances, is to set out for Hungary without delay, collect +reinforcements and artillery, and then endeavour to force the enemy to +an engagement."</p> + +<p>Kemeny, little accustomed to listen to such lengthy discourses, could +scarcely wait till Wenzinger paused, and, as if the whole plan of +campaign deserved not the slightest thought, he now interrupted him with +frivolous impatience.</p> + +<p>"Mr. General, leave all that till the afternoon. After dinner we shall +see everything in quite another light."</p> + +<p>"No, not after dinner," blustered the German. "No time is to be lost. We +are in the midst of war, where every hour is precious; not at a Diet, +where matters may be debated for years together."</p> + +<p>At this sally the Hungarian gentlemen laughed heartily, seized Wenzinger +by the arm, and dragged him off to the banquet, joking all the way. +"There will be lots of time after dinner!" cried they.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said Wenzinger, half in jest and half in anger; "it is a +fine thing, no doubt, to have soldiers who will do everything but obey +your orders!"</p> + +<p>Not another word did he speak at table, but he drank all the more.</p> + +<p>In the midst of these table-joys, John Uzdi, the commander of the +skirmishers, stepped into the Prince's pavilion with a terrified +countenance, and scarce able to speak for excitement.</p> + +<p>"Your Highness! I see great clouds of dust approaching from the +direction of Segesvar!"</p> + +<p>The Prince turned his head towards the messenger, and said with comic +phlegm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"If it gives you any satisfaction to stare at your clouds of dust, pray +go on looking at them as long as you please!"</p> + +<p>But Wenzinger sprang from his seat.</p> + +<p>"I should like to have a look at them myself," cried he, hastily +ordering his heavy charger to be saddled; "possibly the enemy has come +out to entice us nearer."</p> + +<p>The others did not trouble themselves about the matter, but continued to +make merry.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, however, back came Wenzinger, unable to conceal the +secret joy which a professional soldier always feels when his plan is +about to succeed.</p> + +<p>"Victory, gentlemen!" cried he. "The enemy is marching against us in +force. If it is not merely a diversion, and he really means business, +the day is ours."</p> + +<p>Some of the gentlemen at once rose from their seats and began buckling +on their swords. The Prince, however, remained sitting.</p> + +<p>"Are they still a good way off?" he indolently inquired of Wenzinger.</p> + +<p>"Scarcely half-an-hour's march!" exclaimed the latter with sparkling +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Then let them come a little nearer still, and in the meantime sit down +by our side."</p> + +<p>"I'll be damned if I do!" cried the general angrily. "As it is, I have +scarcely time enough to marshal my forces."</p> + +<p>"But why marshal them at all? Let them advance upon the enemy <i>en +masse</i>, that he may be terrified out of his life at the bare sight of +them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I don't want to scare them away, I want rather to surround +them. I shall confront them with one-half the host, the rest I shall +distribute as follows: one division shall creep through the maize-fields +and cut off the enemy's retreat to the town; another shall attack him in +flank from above the mill-dam; a third shall remain behind in reserve. +Your Highness will join the reserve with your Court."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Kemeny, deeply offended, "I in the reserve! The proper +place for an Hungarian Prince is always the fore-front of the battle!"</p> + +<p>"That was all very well formerly; but in a general engagement, such +precious personages require constant looking after, lest any accident +befall them, and are only in the commander's way, and seriously +interfere with his tactics. If, however, your Highness expressly desires +it, I will surrender my bâton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> to you at once, and take my place in the +ranks. Here there is only room for one generalissimo!"</p> + +<p>"Keep your place and take what measures you please, but pray let me +choose my own position. That need not interfere with you in the least."</p> + +<p>And Kemeny, with a few other gentlemen, remained at table.</p> + +<p>Wenzinger had scarcely made the necessary preparations when word was +brought to the Prince that the army was in battle array. Then Kemeny +stood up with imperturbable <i>sangfroid</i> and buckled on his sword, but +refused to wear armour.</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" cried he. "Do you suppose that the heart beats more +courageously behind a coat of mail?"</p> + +<p>So they brought him his most stately charger, whose restive head two +stalwart grooms could only hold with difficulty. The coal-black, +fiery-eyed steed plunged and reared; its nostrils snorted steam; white +frothy flakes fell from its mouth all over its breast; its long waving +tail reached almost to the ground.</p> + +<p>Kemeny swung himself into the saddle, drew his sword, and galloped to +the front. Every one was amazed at his skilful horsemanship; he seemed +to have been grafted on to his stallion, so perfectly did all his +movements correspond with its gambols. On reaching the front, the +stately charger fell into a mincing pace, sharply striking the ground +behind it with its prancing hoofs, and nodding its head as if saluting +the host, which broke with one accord into a loud shout of "Eljen!" At +the same instant the Prince's horse stumbled and plunged violently +forward on both knees at once. The silver bit in its mouth snapped in +two, and it was only his extraordinary skill and dexterity which saved +the Prince from flying headlong.</p> + +<p>His suite came hastening to his side.</p> + +<p>"That is a bad omen, your Highness!" stammered Alexius Bethlen. "Your +Highness should mount another horse."</p> + +<p>"'Tis not a bad omen," replied Kemeny, "for my horse has not thrown me."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, your Highness, it would be well to change your mount. +That horse is frightened, and will do nothing but rear."</p> + +<p>"I mean to keep my seat, if only to show that omens have neither meaning +nor terror for me," said Kemeny defiantly; and he ordered the broken bit +to be replaced by another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> At the same instant Kucsuk Pasha's trumpets +sounded a charge.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The Turkish cavalry formed a half-moon with the horns turned outwards. +Kucsuk himself rode in the centre.</p> + +<p>The Pasha on this occasion wore an unusually splendid costume. His +kaftan was of rich-flowered silk wrought with gold; beneath the kaftan +peeped forth a dolman of cloth of gold; a costly oriental shawl +encircled his loins; his scimitar, buckled on behind, sparkled with +gems; a ger-falcon's plume, fastened by a diamond agraffe, waved from +his turban. His charger, a fiery barb with slender head, long, twisted +mane, and black flying tail, threw back its head proudly and shook its +richly-fringed saddle-cloth. A sort of gold netting surrounded its whole +body, from the fringes of which depended numbers of large, jingling, +golden half-moons.</p> + +<p>As soon as Kucsuk Pasha perceived Kemeny's troops, he dismounted, threw +himself with his face to the ground, thrice kissed the earth, thrice +raised himself on his knees, uplifted his face devoutly to heaven, and +called upon the name of Allah. Then he remounted his horse; sent for his +son; tore one of the falcon feathers out of his turban, and sticking it +in the youthful hero's, said—"Go now to the left wing of the host, and +fight as becomes a man of valour! For 'tis better that thou shouldst +fall by the hand of the enemy, and lie dead before me, than that thou +shouldst fly, and this my sword" (here he smote the scimitar by his side +with his fist) "should slay thee!"</p> + +<p>Feriz Beg reverentially bowed his head, kissed the hem of his father's +kaftan, and proudly galloped to the post assigned to him, feeling that +every eye was fixed upon the falcon's feather which his father had +fastened to his turban.</p> + +<p>The Pasha now rode along the ranks and addressed these words to his +cavalry—</p> + +<p>"My brave fellows! the enemy is before you! I say not whether they be +many or few—you can see for yourselves. They are indeed many times more +numerous than we; but trust in Allah, and fight valiantly! It is more +honourable to die here sword in hand than to fly like cowards. We are in +the midst of Transylvania. He who flies will fall by the sword of the +pursuer ere he reaches the frontier, and he who escapes the pursuer will +fall by the bowstring of the Padishah. We have no other choice but +victory or death!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>Then he turned to the Wallachs. Them he addressed with harsh and +wrathful words.</p> + +<p>"You dogs, you! I know right well that you are ready to bolt at the +first shot; but know that I have ordered the troops behind you to +instantly cut every one of you down who so much as looks backward." Then +the Pasha, placing himself at the head of his host, waved his naked +sword for the trumpets to blow, and glancing once more along the lines, +saw the Moorish troops who stood behind him, with melon-shaped, +copper-plated helmets, making ready to fire their long muskets.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" growled the Pasha. "Away with your muskets! The +enemy has more of them than we. We shall only need our swords. Let every +one charge boldly upon the foe, ducking his head down over his +saddle-bow the moment I give the signal, and then gallop forward without +hesitation!"</p> + +<p>The host did as it was commanded. The Moors slung their funnel-shaped +muskets over their shoulders, drew their broad scimitars, and trotted +forward in the footsteps of the Pasha.</p> + +<p>Kemeny's troops, like a wall of steel confronted them, the musketeers in +the first line, the lanzknechts behind. In the centre stood Wenzinger, +on the right wing John Kemeny. The flanking troops were creeping +stealthily on behind the mill-dam and among the maize-fields in order to +take the foe in the rear.</p> + +<p>When the Turkish army had come within gunshot distance of Kemeny's +forces, Kucsuk Pasha suddenly turned round and glanced fiercely back, +right and left, upon his soldiers, who immediately ducked their heads +over their horses' necks, tightly grasped their swords, used their spurs +freely, and dashed like a whirlwind upon their opponents.</p> + +<p>"Allah! Allah! il-Allah!" thrice sounded from the lips of the charging +Turks, and simultaneously John Kemeny's musketeers gave the attacking +horsemen a point-blank enfilade, which for a moment enveloped their +ranks in smoke. But in those days musketry fire did little harm; it was +far more noisy than dangerous. So now too only a couple of Turks or so +glided out of their saddles, dragging their horses down with them; the +rest galloped forward with a howl of fury.</p> + +<p>Wenzinger, perceiving that his arquebusiers had no time to load again, +immediately ordered his lanzknechts to advance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> Now if these troops +could only have kept back the Turkish cavalry till the arquebusiers had +managed to reload, or till the flanking squadrons had come up and fallen +upon the enemy, Kemeny would no doubt have won the battle. But the ranks +of the lanzknechts collapsed at the very first onset, and after (to do +them justice) a really desperate resistance, were mostly cut to pieces, +whereupon the helpless musketeers took to their heels <i>en masse</i>, and +threw their whole army into great confusion.</p> + +<p>Wenzinger now tried to restore order by commanding the whole line to +fall back, and had his command been properly obeyed, the engagement +might perhaps have had a different issue. But the cavalry, which the +Prince led in person, obeying his proud counter-orders to remain where +they were, were left fighting single-handed against the divisions +opposed to them, when the rest of the army had already changed its +position.</p> + +<p>The Pasha immediately left off pursuing the panic-stricken musketeers +and fell with all his might upon Kemeny, who, attacked simultaneously in +front and in flank, altogether lost his head; and as there was neither +time nor space for an orderly retreat, wildly cut his way through the +first opening which presented itself, not perceiving in his confusion +that he was riding down his own retreating infantry, for the cavalry, +galloping frantically into the newly-formed ranks, trod their own people +under-foot, frustrated the last hope of forming a reserve, and threw the +whole army into hopeless disorder. The infantry threw down their arms +and fled in all directions before their own and the enemy's cavalry, +which followed, helter-skelter, on each other's heels, trampling to +death all who came in their way. Neither the skill of the general nor +the self-sacrifice of a handful of heroes was able to restore the +battle. The wild flight of one part of the army had demoralized the +other. The battle was irretrievably lost.</p> + +<p>Amidst the general rout the Prince also found himself a fugitive. As he +had stood in the fore-front of the battle during the fight, he naturally +found himself now among the hindmost in the flight, and could scarcely +escape from his pursuers for the press in front. The Turks were +everywhere on the heels of the fugitives, and mercilessly cut down all +whom they could reach. A Turkish youth was following the Prince like his +shadow, and as the boy's steed had very much less to carry, speedily +came up with him. The falcon feather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> in his turban enables us to +recognize Feriz Beg, Kucsuk Pasha's son.</p> + +<p>The face of the youthful hero glowed with excitement, but the face of +the Prince was dark with rage and shame. He frequently looked behind him +and gnashed his teeth. "To fly perforce before a child! Shame, oh, +shame!" Again and again he tried to stop, but his frenzied steed tore +him along with it.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the youngster had come near enough to reach him with his +scimitar. At first the Prince disdained to defend himself against his +puny foe; but the latter, becoming more and more audacious in his +attacks, he at last drew his sword and parried his blows.</p> + +<p>"Avaunt, you little bastard!" cried Kemeny, foaming with rage, "for if I +do turn round, I'll deal you a blow that will knock all your baby teeth +down your throat."</p> + +<p>But now a bound of his horse brought Feriz alongside of the Prince, and +regarding Kemeny with flashing eyes, he aimed a blow at his neck with +his supple Damascus blade; while Kemeny, with a lowering countenance, +seized his sword with both hands, and dealt a tremendous backward blow +with all his might which was meant to cut his presumptuous young +assailant in two. It was as though a young eagle had brought a flying +panther to bay, and forced him to a life-and-death struggle. At the +moment when both swords sped hissing through the air, Kemeny's horse +again stumbled and fell forward with a broken foot, causing Kemeny's +blow to fall wide, and strike not Feriz but Feriz' horse's head, which +it clove in twain, while Feriz' blow flashed down upon the Prince's +forehead.</p> + +<p>The Prince as he sank from his horse looked darkly up into the face of +his youthful opponent. The blood flowed in streams from his frowning +forehead. Once more he gave his horse the spur, but the maimed beast +only reared on its hind legs, fell over with its sinking rider, and both +were instantly trampled under-foot by the enemy's cavalry.</p> + +<p>In the wild rout no one noticed the spot where the Prince had fallen. It +was only after many days that his torn and tattered mantle and his +broken sword were offered for sale in the market-place of Segesvar by +Turkish hucksters, purchased by Michael Apafi, now sole Prince of +Transylvania, and subsequently preserved in his museum at Fogaros. Apafi +also ordered search to be made on the battle-field for the corpse of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +the fallen Prince in order to give it decent and honourable burial, but +no one could recognize his body among the naked and mutilated slain.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The battle won, Kucsuk by a flourish of trumpets recalled his squadrons +from pursuing the beaten foe. The Turkish horsemen came galloping back +at once, quite contrary to the usual practice of Turkish armies, which +are generally as much demoralized after a victory as the vanquished +themselves. Kucsuk had inured them to the strictest discipline.</p> + +<p>Back they came, black with smoke and red with blood, but the bloodiest +of all was Feriz Beg. His mantle was riddled with bullets, and the horse +he rode was the third that he had mounted since the action began, two +had already been killed under him.</p> + +<p>Kucsuk, without a word, embraced his son, kissed him on the forehead, +fastened his own Nishan Order on his breast, and exchanged swords with +him, then the highest conceivable distinction.</p> + +<p>Ferhad Aga, the leader of the right wing, was brought dead, on a litter +of lances, before the general. His body bore wounds of every shape and +size; he was literally covered with gunshot wounds, sabre-cuts, and +lance-thrusts.</p> + +<p>Kucsuk sprang from his horse, bent weeping over the corpse, covered it +with kisses, and swore by Allah that he would not have given this man's +life for the whole of Transylvania.</p> + +<p>Nor would he enter the town till Ferhad had been buried. The dervishes +immediately surrounded the dead man, washed him, wrapped him in fragrant +linen, and the Pasha himself sought out for him a sunny spot in the +midst of a little grove. There they buried him with his face turned +towards the east, and with a pennant fluttering on a lance's head over +his grassy grave. And for three days sentinels watched over him, to +prevent the accursed Jins from mutilating the corpse of the dead hero.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VII" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE PRINCESS.</span></h2> + + +<p>After the fatal day of Nagy Szöllös, the faithful followers of John +Kemeny fled to Hungary, and transferred their allegiance to Simon +Kemeny, the son of the fallen Prince. But a sinking cause has few +friends, and while the younger Kemeny's party rapidly diminished, +Apafi's as rapidly increased. His victory had assured his position, and +won for him all the great men of the land—the governors of the towns, +the magnates, the commandants of the fortresses—in short, it was a race +who should do him homage first, all the Estates of the Realm recognized +him as Prince.</p> + +<p>Only a few fortresses, where Kemeny had placed German garrisons, still +held out, Klausenburg among the number.</p> + +<p>Kucsuk Pasha, whose army meanwhile had been reinforced, brought Apafi +beneath the walls of that city, and pitched his tent at Hidelve over +against the old town, then a mere heap of straw huts, and there the new +Prince held his first reception.</p> + +<p>The morning had scarcely dawned when Apafi's tent was besieged by a host +of visitors, petitioners, and liegemen. The Prince, enchanted at the +delightful novelty of a position which enabled him to gratify +everybody's desires, could not find it in his heart to say no to +anybody. Nalaczi and Daczo were there before he had finished putting on +his boots, and introduced a whole mob of persons anxious to pay their +respects, who were waiting with smiling faces at the tent door. Apafi +made haste with his toilet in order that none should be kept waiting. He +was anxious to oblige every one.</p> + +<p>Amongst the first who elbowed their way in was Count<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> Ladislaus Csaky. +He came to offer his son as a page to the Prince, the self-same son who +had filled and refilled John Kemeny's glass a few weeks before. Apafi +could scarcely find words to express his gratitude for such an offer.</p> + +<p>Next came Master Gabriel Haller, who seemed as if he would really never +leave off bowing and scraping, and addressed an eloquent oration to +Apafi, every tenth word of which was a title of honour. Apafi could +scarcely conceal his childish joy at being called your Highness, and +invited Master Gabriel Haller to dinner straight off.</p> + +<p>A daïs was then placed in the back part of the tent, which the modest +Prince absolutely refused to mount, till his brother Stephen used gentle +violence, and even then he insisted on rising to receive every suitor, +and accompanied him to the door at the end of each audience.</p> + +<p>Petitioners, homagers, and visitors of every description kept coming and +going one by one.</p> + +<p>By Apafi's side stood Nalaczi, Daczo, Stephen Apafi, and John Cserey, +whom his Highness urged repeatedly to be seated.</p> + +<p>After receiving the oaths of allegiance, on which occasion the +commandants of the fortresses placed the keys of their strongholds in +the Prince's hands, it was the turn of the petitioners to be introduced.</p> + +<p>First came Master Martin Pok, the jailer of Fogaros, with the humble +petition that he might be appointed the governor of that fortress, +inasmuch as the former governor had fled to Simon Kemeny.</p> + +<p>Apafi promised to bear him in mind.</p> + +<p>Next came Master John Szasy, the chief magistrate of Hermannstadt, +complaining, with tears in his eyes, that his fellow-citizens were +persecuting him, and throwing himself on the Prince's protection.</p> + +<p>Apafi at once took him under his wing.</p> + +<p>Then followed Master Moses Zagoni, who begged the Prince to let him off +a certain balance in his accounts which had been outstanding from +Kemeny's time.</p> + +<p>Him too Apafi sent away comforted.</p> + +<p>Last of all came a thick-set, sturdy Szekler, in a short sheep-skin +jacket, who called himself the representative of Olahfalva; did homage +to Apafi in the name of his district, and preferred two very peculiar +petitions, to wit: that from henceforth Olahfalva should be declared to +be only <i>two</i> miles from Klausenburg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> (the real distance between the two +places is, as we all know, more than twenty); and secondly, that it +should be legally enacted that he who had no horse should go on foot.</p> + +<p>The Prince laughingly complied with both of these extraordinarily +ludicrous requests, which put him into such a good humour that an +itinerant scholar, Clement by name, a crooked-nosed, long-legged +individual, wrapped from head to foot in a fox-skin mantle, made bold to +approach Apafi, and present him on his knees with a huge parchment roll +which he had been holding in his hand for some time, and which the +Prince, not without extraneous help, now took and unfolded. Inside it he +read the whole genealogical record of the Apafis, painted on a +green-leaved family-tree, whereby his family was brought into connection +with the illustrious Bethlen and Bathory families; traced back to King +Samuel Aba, from him again to Huba, one of the seven original leaders of +the Magyars, and thence ascending still further, first to Attila's +youngest son Csaka, and from him in the female line to the daughter of +the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus, but in the male line to Nimrod, +the first recorded earthly king.</p> + +<p>This fulsome piece of flattery seemed to somewhat annoy Apafi; but as he +could not quite make up his mind to kick the impertinent poet out of the +tent, he resolved to be quit of him with a handful of ducats, and placed +the genealogical tree behind him by way of a prop.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless the Prince's good-humour was not in the least disturbed. He +seemed to feel it his bounden duty to treat every one who approached him +with peculiar graciousness and condescension, and after listening +patiently to the last of his many petitioners, he turned to Messrs. +Nalaczi and Daczo, who stood by his side, and said—</p> + +<p>"Is there absolutely nothing I can do for you? How shall I requite the +fidelity with which you have stood by me from the very first?"</p> + +<p>Nalaczi and Daczo had long been racking their brains as to what <i>they</i> +should ask of the Prince. Their chief anxiety was lest they should ask +too little.</p> + +<p>"I leave the reward of my poor services to the benevolence of your +Highness," said Nalaczi: but he thought within himself that the Szeklers +needed another Captain-General in the place of Beldi.</p> + +<p>"The little I have been fortunate enough to do for your Highness is, in +my opinion, not even worth mentioning,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> declared Daczo; but it did +occur to him at the same time that the post of Governor of Klausenburg, +vacant by the flight of Banfi, was just the very thing for him.</p> + +<p>Apafi looked at them benignly, and no doubt would have created both +these worthy but not particularly capable gentlemen privy-counsellors at +the very least, when, unfortunately for them, a hubbub outside here +interrupted the conversation, and the body-guards, drawing aside the +curtains of the tent, admitted Kucsuk Pasha.</p> + +<p>The Prince sprang from his seat at once, and would have gone to meet +him, had not Stephen Apafi pulled him by the mantle and whispered in his +ear—</p> + +<p>"Keep up your dignity in the presence of the Turk. He is only a +subaltern Pasha, while you are the sovereign Prince of Transylvania."</p> + +<p>Despite this admonition Apafi did not feel quite at his ease till Kucsuk +had beckoned to him to be seated, and although the Turk remained +standing in the presence of the Prince, there was this difference +between them, that whereas Apafi's face expressed nothing but affability +and condescension, Kucsuk's was all haughtiness and dignity.</p> + +<p>"How can I show my gratitude for the labours and perils you have +undergone on my behalf?" asked Apafi with genuine enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Not to me but to my imperial master are thy thanks due," replied Kucsuk +dryly. "I did but do his will when I set thee on the throne of +Transylvania. With God's help I have scattered thy enemies, only a +fortress here and there still holds out. I shall have done my whole duty +when I have captured them; the rest lies with thee. To-morrow I shall +besiege Klausenburg, and, cost what it may, I shall not rest till the +town is taken. When that has fallen the others will follow of their own +accord."</p> + +<p>"Should I not also call out the provincial banderia<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a>?" inquired +Apafi.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Banderia.</i> The mounted gentry of the county.</p></div> + +<p>"I need them not," replied Kucsuk; "let them remain at home and look +after their own affairs. My own troops will do everything."</p> + +<p>Apafi was about to thank the Pasha for his magnanimity, when suddenly he +became aware that every one was looking towards one of the +side-entrances of the tent, through which some one had just entered +without being announced.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>The Prince also looked round in the same direction, and what he then saw +before him made him forget instantly Transylvania, Kucsuk Pasha, +Klausenburg, and everything else, for before him stood his beautiful and +majestic consort, Anna Bornemissa.</p> + +<p>It was indeed a queenly apparition.</p> + +<p>That commanding countenance, which seemed to exact homage, how affably +yet how proudly it could glance around! In her dress there was no trace +of pomp; but was there any need of gems where such speaking eyes flashed +and sparkled? Did that royal form require velvet or ermine to lend it +majesty?</p> + +<p>It was the first time that Apafi had seen her since his departure. She +had risen from her child-bed twice as lovely as before. Renewed +happiness and comfort had invested her features with a sort of +transparent brightness. Her eyes, dimmed no longer by tears of sorrow, +flashed with a purer radiance than before. Her lips, which had long +known nought but joy, smiled still more sweetly. Her figure had gained +in fullness and roundness without losing in symmetry, and the confident, +self-conscious dignity visible in all her features and all her movements +well became her majestic form.</p> + +<p>Apafi, forgetting all dignity and decorum when he saw his consort, +sprang from his seat, rushed towards her, seized her hand, drew the +enchanting lady to his breast, just as he used to do when he was a +simple squire, and kissed her mouth and cheeks so heartily that the +assembled Estates of the Realm had auricular demonstration of the fact.</p> + +<p>Anna nestled closely to her husband's breast, and her lips tenderly +returned his salutations; but her large, earnest eyes seemed to be +scrutinizing over her husband's shoulder the faces of all who were +present, and her gaze rested for an instant on each one of them.</p> + +<p>These connubial caresses seemed likely to have no end so far as Apafi +was concerned—his wife was worth more to him than all Transylvania with +the appurtenances thereof—till Anna disengaged herself from his arms +with a smile, and said merrily—</p> + +<p>"You lavish the outpourings of your heart on me alone, but there is some +one else here who claims his share too;" and with that she beckoned to +Dame Sarah, who had followed her mistress into the tent with a beaming +countenance, and now unwrapped before Apafi's eyes a pretty sleeping +babe, whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> the good nurse had been dangling about in a piece of silken +tapestry.</p> + +<p>Beside himself for joy, Apafi took the child in his arms and kissed its +little round cherub face again and again. The child awaking, allowed +itself to be kissed and hugged without uttering a cry, and snatched with +its plump little be-ribboned arms at papa's beard, which naturally gave +papa indescribable delight.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen standing around considered it their bounden duty to +congratulate the Prince on his parental felicity, who, drunk with joy, +exhibited his son to them and said—</p> + +<p>"Look how serious he is. He doesn't even cry. What a perfect little man +it is!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Anna beckoned to Stephen Apafi, and whispered to him—</p> + +<p>"I am sure the gentlemen will not take it ill if the Prince's family +concerns and joys withdraw him for a few moments from public affairs."</p> + +<p>"Your Highness has taken the words out of my mouth," replied Stephen. "I +was just about to say the same thing to the gentlemen myself;" and +turning towards the courtiers, he begged them to leave the Prince for a +few moments in the bosom of his family, and meanwhile withdraw into the +antechamber.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen considered the request only natural, and at once retired, +obsequiously giving precedence as they went to Kucsuk Pasha.</p> + +<p>No sooner did Anna find herself alone with her consort, than she took +the child from his arms, gave it back to Sarah, and sent them both away. +Apafi now approached her with fresh demonstrations of tenderness, but +she took him by the hand, gazed earnestly into his eyes, and said—</p> + +<p>"It is to the Prince of Transylvania that I have come!"</p> + +<p>Apafi was somewhat chilled by her steady look; but she, perceiving it, +nestled closely up to him again, and said kindly—</p> + +<p>"I was beginning to suspect that the Prince might have more need of me +than the husband." Then she added with a smile full of irresistible +grace—"I hope you will not misconstrue my good intentions."</p> + +<p>Apafi embraced his wife, and made her sit down by his side. The chair of +state was large enough to accommodate them both. It is true that the +pretty wife had to sit half upon her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> husband's knee, but that certainly +did not inconvenience either of them.</p> + +<p>"You are right," said Apafi; "it is well that you are here. When I don't +see you I always feel that I lack something. At any rate you deserve to +be nearest to my heart, and I'll venture to set your judgment against +the judgment of any of the gentlemen surrounding me."</p> + +<p>"Who are all these gentlemen?" asked Anna.</p> + +<p>"You must know them all by name. The lanky man is Ladislaus Csaky, who +offers me his son as a page."</p> + +<p>"He loses no time about it! A very little while ago the lad was John +Kemeny's page."</p> + +<p>Apafi began to look glum.</p> + +<p>"The man with the large moustaches is Gabriel Haller."</p> + +<p>Anna smote her hands together in amazement.</p> + +<p>"What! he here too?"</p> + +<p>"What have you to find fault with in him?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you. He has always been the spy of your enemies. He brought +Kemeny the first tidings of your installation, and of Kucsuk Pasha's +arrival at Segesvar."</p> + +<p>Apafi's features grew still darker.</p> + +<p>"And I have invited the gentleman to dinner!" he murmured between his +teeth.</p> + +<p>"And why are Messrs. Nalaczi and Daczo so familiar with you? Do they +want anything?"</p> + +<p>"They are my faithful followers, who have stood by my side from the very +first."</p> + +<p>"But pray don't on that account make them the highest personages in the +land. Simple, ignorant men in responsible positions are far more +dangerous to a state than open but enlightened foes. Reward them by all +means, but only in proportion to their abilities."</p> + +<p>"I'll do so," replied the harassed Prince; and during the remainder of +the interview he tried hard to uphold his conjugal supremacy, but Anna +would not let the subject drop.</p> + +<p>"And Master John Szasy, what does he do here? for I saw him too."</p> + +<p>"The poor fellow is persecuted," returned Apafi, who began to find the +joke a little tiresome.</p> + +<p>"Evil rumours are abroad about that man. People say of him—and they say +it pretty loudly—that he has young Saxon girls abducted for him, and +after sacrificing them to his brutal lusts, removes them out of the way +by poison. The parents<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> of the girls have indicted this man, and he +fancies he will escape exposure by fawning upon you."</p> + +<p>Apafi sprang wrathfully from his seat.</p> + +<p>"If that be so, I will show Master Szasy the door; he shall find no +shelter beneath my mantle."</p> + +<p>"And what brought that honest, tattered Szekler hither?" asked Anna, who +had evidently made up her mind to know everything. "I like not his +crafty face at all. The Szekler is always most dangerous when he puts on +the garb of simplicity."</p> + +<p>The Prince was suddenly seized with a paroxysm of mirth, he could +scarcely speak for laughing.</p> + +<p>"That was the representative of Olahfalva," said he.</p> + +<p>At the mention of this place even Anna could not forbear from smiling.</p> + +<p>"The good folks of Olahfalva," continued Apafi, still laughing, "who +carry people to church in sheets and beat watches to death!"</p> + +<p>"I fear me the poor people are very much maligned. They are called +simple, but methinks their ways are altogether crooked and crafty."</p> + +<p>"But is it not true then that they carry ladders horizontally through +the woods?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but why? You shall hear. Their Captain-General had forbidden them +to waste the woods, but at the same time sent them out to pull down +crows' nests; so to get at the nests they carried the ladders +horizontally through the woods to have an excuse for hewing down every +tree that stood in their way."</p> + +<p>"Well explained! But at least you will not deny that in hilly districts +they never plough to the end of their fields for fear that if they go +right to the margin the earth will tilt over with them."</p> + +<p>"They do that because the margin is of a rocky consistency which no +ploughshare will penetrate."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you say of their custom of choosing to represent them at +the Diet those amongst them upon whom their obsolete, short skin-jackets +sit the best? I'll swear I saw the self-same jacket now worn by the +Olahfalva deputy at the Diet of Klausenburg twelve years ago, only then +it was on some one else's shoulders."</p> + +<p>"The good folks think," returned the Princess, "that a deputy to the +Diet need say little or nothing, but that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> coat in which he has to +sit for hours ought to be as comfortable as possible."</p> + +<p>"You seem to know the reason of everything. But, come now! explain, if +you can, the signification of the promises which this Szekler has got +out of me. He petitioned for two things: first, that the distance +between Olahfalva and Klausenburg should henceforth be declared to be +only two miles."</p> + +<p>"Oh! <i>sancta simplicitas</i>!" cried Anna. "They have a charter which +permits them to offer their timber for sale at any place within two +miles of their district; they are consequently anxious to have the +Klausenburg market thrown open to them."</p> + +<p>"I really believe you are right," returned Apafi, in a tone of +conviction. "I now begin to suspect their second petition, although it +seems to me to have no special connection with their community. They +desire it to be legally enacted that he who has no horse shall +henceforth be obliged to go on foot."</p> + +<p>"I have it!" cried Anna, after a moment's reflection. "Olahfalva has +recently been made a post station, and the couriers passing through the +place have therefore the right to demand fresh horses there. Now the +good people begin to find this new obligation onerous, and therefore +want a law passed to compel the couriers to make their pilgrimages +through Olahfalva on foot."</p> + +<p>Apafi stamped angrily on the ground.</p> + +<p>"The impudent rascal! To presume to jest with me in such a way! Well, +you shall see how I'll make them grin on the other side of their faces. +But is it not about time to re-admit the gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"One word more, Apafi," said Anna gently, placing her velvety arms on +her husband's shoulder. "I observed Kucsuk Pasha among your liegemen; I +presume he came to take his leave?"</p> + +<p>Apafi threw back his head much perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Not at all! Don't you know that we are here to capture Klausenburg? It +is Kucsuk's business to take it."</p> + +<p>"Michael!" cried the Princess, in a tone of tearful supplication. "Do +you mean to say that you will suffer a Turkish garrison in Klausenburg? +Do you forget that the Osmanlis are always loth to relinquish any +Hungarian stronghold that they once get possession of? Do you not +recollect that Klausenburg is the capital of your realm, and those who +dwell within its walls are your own people, your own compatriots,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> your +own co-religionists? And you would expose them to the horrors of an +assault? The Turks may be your allies, but after all they are heathens +and aliens, whom you should not allow to play havoc with your people. +Did not your heart sink within you when you saw the walls of +Klausenburg? Could you behold those towers, those houses, without +reflecting that there are the homes of your fellow-countrymen and the +churches of your God, into which the besiegers would hurl their +firebrands? Could you look at those ramparts without perceiving crowds +of mothers holding their babes in their arms, and declaring to you that +your own people—an innocent, loyal, honest people—dwell therein? And +you would hold your triumphal entry into the capital of your country +over the mutilated bodies of these women and children?"</p> + +<p>Apafi rose from his seat. His forehead was bathed with sweat. +Involuntary remorse was legible on his troubled countenance.</p> + +<p>"No, Anna; I don't wish it. How can you think me so heartless? What! I, +who could never endure the tears of a single woman, should remain deaf +to the lamentations of a whole nation? But what am I to do? I meant to +have called out the banderia to invest the town, and so compel the +garrison to surrender; but how shall I set about it with Kucsuk Pasha in +the way? He is determined to storm the town, I know not how to prevent +him."</p> + +<p>"Be easy on that score. The commanders of the Turkish troops in +Transylvania have received firmans<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> ordering them to instantly rejoin +the army of the Grand Vizier at Érsekújvár. Kucsuk too has doubtless +received such a firman."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <i>Firman.</i> A decree issued by the Sultan and proclaimed by +the Grand Vizier.</p></div> + +<p>"I was not aware of it. That is why he wants to press on the assault, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"A similar mandate is already on its way to you from the Divan,<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> and +by pretending that this mandate has already reached you, it will be easy +to induce the Pasha in a friendly way to raise the siege of +Klausenburg."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> <i>Divan.</i> The Sultan's council.</p></div> + +<p>"I will try, Anna; I will try!" cried Apafi, walking up and down the +tent. "I owe it to my people, and I would rather turn my back upon these +walls than force my way through them with fire and sword."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>"But you must not turn your back upon them," replied the discreet lady; +"there are ways and means of getting possession of the fortress without +having recourse to fire and sword."</p> + +<p>Apafi stood still and looked inquiringly at his wife. She drew him +closer to her and whispered in his ear—</p> + +<p>"Before coming to Klausenburg, I secretly instructed the well-disposed +within the town to try and bring the garrison over to our side. This +morning our spies have brought us word that the infantry is ready, at +the first sound of the trumpet from without, to open the gates and go +over to us with bag and baggage. The cavalry by itself will be unable to +offer any resistance."</p> + +<p>"My dear!" cried Apafi in astonishment, "you are really a born +princess."</p> + +<p>Anna took her husband softly by the arm, led him to the daïs, and made +him sit down.</p> + +<p>"The sceptre is no plaything, Apafi," said she earnestly. "Never forget +that posterity will sit in judgment on princes. A ruler's every act and +word may mean the ruin or the salvation of thousands. Think of that in +all you do and say. And now, God be with you. Be firm!"</p> + +<p>Anna, with an exalted look, kissed the Prince on the forehead. At that +very moment her eye fell on the parchment roll of the itinerant scholar.</p> + +<p>"What plan of campaign is this?" cried she, taking up the parchment.</p> + +<p>Apafi would have snatched it from her, but it was too late; Anna had +already unrolled it, and after casting a rapid glance over the +lickspittling pedigree, looked with an expression of overwhelming +reproach at the discomfited Prince, who stood before her with downcast +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Did <i>you</i> get any one to compose it?" she softly asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," replied Apafi energetically; "a shameless poet brought +it to me."</p> + +<p>"Then throw it into the fire," replied his wife, much relieved.</p> + +<p>"That is just what I was going to do. I can then get rid of him with a +few ducats."</p> + +<p>"A few strokes with a whip would be much more appropriate," exclaimed +Anna wrathfully; but soon her features grew mild again, and steadfastly +regarding her husband she said to him kindly—"Be strong! Be a prince! +Protect the loyal! Forgive the repentant! Despise flatterers!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>With that she curtseyed low, kissed her husband's hand, and had vanished +from the tent before he could return the salute.</p> + +<p>Apafi immediately called Cserey and commanded him to re-admit the +gentlemen, who were still waiting in the ante-chamber.</p> + +<p>On the countenances of the courtiers could be read, as plainly as if it +were written there, the persuasion that they might now ask for and +expect from the Prince anything they liked, on the presumption that the +blissful antecedent domestic scene had left him in a state of mental +flabbiness which could say no to nobody. Stephen Apafi was alone +sufficiently sober-minded to perceive the change which had come over his +brother's face in the meantime. Apafi's features now wore an expression +of dignity, firmness, and energy worthy of a prince.</p> + +<p>"My loyal friends," he cried, in a hard, firm voice, without waiting for +any one to address him. "As concerning the petitions preferred to us, we +would dismiss you with fit and proper answers. We accept your homage +with all due appreciation, and trust you will ever persevere in your +loyalty. You, Ladislaus Csaky, we permit to return home. We will no +longer deprive you of your family joys. As for your son, we will have +him educated abroad at our own cost, till he be suitable for our +service."</p> + +<p>Count Ladislaus Csaky, with a very wry face indeed, expressed his +gratitude for the Prince's gracious permission to return home, although +he would willingly have remained at Court all his life with the whole of +his family.</p> + +<p>Gabriel Haller the Prince passed over altogether, as if he absolutely +did not see him, but he turned pointedly towards Nalaczi and Daczo, who +made desperate efforts to appear meek and humble.</p> + +<p>"Having regard to the zeal and affection which our faithful Stephen +Nalaczi has always testified for our person, we appoint him herewith +first gentleman-in-waiting at our Court. And you, John Daczo, we appoint +commander of Csikszerda."</p> + +<p>Both gentlemen made the grimace usual in suitors who have expected much +and got little. Nalaczi smiled, but within he was all wormwood and gall. +Daczo tried to look contented, but he coloured up to the ears. They were +scarcely able to thank the Prince for his goodness.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Master Pok, in order not to be left altogether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> out of sight, +had elbowed his way to the front, completely covering honest Cserey, who +modestly made way for him.</p> + +<p>Apafi beckoned to him, however.</p> + +<p>"Why do you keep so much in the background?" said he.</p> + +<p>Master Pok, under the impression that the hint was meant for him, drew +still nearer.</p> + +<p>"'Tis Master Cserey whom we address," continued the Prince, "or do you +think that we are unable to distinguish our faithful from our feigning +followers? Your fidelity and prudence, Master Cserey, are well known to +us, wherefore we appoint you forthwith governor of our fortress of +Fogaros."</p> + +<p>In his consternation Master Pok looked up at the ceiling as if he +expected it to fall on his head.</p> + +<p>"Master Martin Pok, on the other hand," pursued the Prince, "we confirm +in his former post. He will continue to be jailer at the same fortress."</p> + +<p>Master Martin Pok sobbed aloud. Cserey was about to raise objections, +but the Prince beckoned him to be silent.</p> + +<p>Next came Master John Szasy's turn.</p> + +<p>"You are accused of grievous crimes, from which we have neither the will +nor the power to absolve you. You will therefore be conveyed to +Hermannstadt with a strong escort, there to clear yourself as best you +can."</p> + +<p>John Szasy, with a stupefied air, looked first to the right and then to +the left. He could not understand it at all.</p> + +<p>"You, Master Moses Zagoni, we command to present your accounts for +examination to our officers of the Exchequer thereunto appointed."</p> + +<p>To hide his own confusion, Zagoni thought he could not do better than +whisper consolation to Szasy.</p> + +<p>The deputy of Olahfalva had now to take his turn. It was indeed high +time that something amusing should happen, for while the Prince had thus +been distributing rewards and punishments, the smile had gradually +vanished from every face; nothing short of the discomfiture of the +quaint and crafty boor could now restore the general hilarity.</p> + +<p>"What I promised you," said the Prince, scarcely able to repress his +inward merriment, "is yours. If it give you any satisfaction, you may +henceforth regard Olahfalva as only two miles distant from Klausenburg +instead of twenty; let him also who has no horse go on foot as you +desire. But we grant this with the express reservation that you are not +to take any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> timber to the market of Klausenburg, and that you always +give the couriers the necessary relays of horses."</p> + +<p>The Szekler grinned, shook his head, and then looked very hard at the +Prince, as if to find out how Apafi could possibly have got to the +bottom of his artifice.</p> + +<p>The wondering, puzzled face of the Olahfalvian was too much for Apafi's +gravity, and he burst into a loud guffaw, in which everybody present +joined him. The Szekler, whose face had hitherto worn a bewildered +smile, suddenly became quite serious, threw back his head defiantly, +cast a furious look around, half stripped off his short jacket, and +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Harkye, gentlemen! If the Prince chooses to make merry with me, I +suffer it; but I'll trouble you all not to laugh so at my expense."</p> + +<p>The Prince beckoned to them to be silent, and diverted their attention +by calling forward the itinerant scholar Clement, who shambled up on his +long, lean legs, as if he were every moment about to fall on his knees.</p> + +<p>"We have commanded our treasurer," said the Prince, "to pay to you out +of our privy purse three <i>marias</i><a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> for the work which you have handed +to us."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> <i>Maria.</i> An old Hungarian coin worth about thirty-five +kreutzers.</p></div> + +<p>"Your Highness was pleased to observe—" stammered the confounded poet.</p> + +<p>"You heard very well. I said three <i>marias</i>. That is about the value of +the writing materials which you have wasted upon this pedigree. Another +time employ your leisure more profitably."</p> + +<p>The Prince then signified that the audience was at an end.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen quitted the tent with many a deep obeisance. Kucsuk Pasha +alone remained behind.</p> + +<p>During the whole of this scene the Pasha had been shaking his head, as +if he had not expected all this from Apafi. He could not help remarking +too that Apafi now needed no one to remind him how to preserve his +princely dignity in the presence of others. Apafi wore an affable air; +but it was the affability of princely condescension.</p> + +<p>"We have learnt with regret," he began, turning towards the Pasha, "that +we must shortly lose you, whose valour we so much admire, whose +friendship we so much esteem."</p> + +<p>The Pasha looked up with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"What means your Highness?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>"In consequence of a firman commanding the Transylvanian generals to +assemble in the camp of the Grand Vizier. We shall, alas! only see you +in our circle for a very short time."</p> + +<p>Kucsuk angrily bit his lips.</p> + +<p>"How could he have learnt that already?" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"We would willingly retain you, for your person is most dear to us; but +we know that the commands of the Padishah require instant submission. +Moreover, lest your devotion to us should draw down upon you the +displeasure of the Sublime Porte, we have taken such measures as will +bring the fortress of Klausenburg to capitulate without having resort to +an assault, thus releasing you from the troublesome obligation of +keeping your army here any longer. As to the confirmation of our +princely dignity, we will take care to settle all that with the Grand +Vizier, presumably at Érsekújvár, whither we also are summoned."</p> + +<p>During this speech, Kucsuk had regarded the Prince fixedly and with +folded arms. Even when Apafi had finished speaking, he remained standing +in the same position without uttering a word.</p> + +<p>Apafi calmly continued—</p> + +<p>"In order however to express our personal gratitude, however feebly, for +your services, we would have you accept from us this little gift more as +a token of our respect than as a reward." And with that the Prince took +from his neck a gold chain set with large brilliants, and hung it round +the Pasha's neck.</p> + +<p>Kucsuk still remained immovable. He searchingly scrutinized the Prince, +and wrinkled his brows. Then, all at once, he began to smile, and +shaking his head said slyly—</p> + +<p>"It is well, Apafi, it is all excellently well. But I see that thou art +wont to commit thy understanding to the custody of thy wife. <i>Salem +aleikum!</i> Peace be with thee!"</p> + +<p>And off went the Pasha, shaking his head all the way.</p> + +<p>But Apafi, with a lightened heart, hastened back to his wife.</p> + +<p>Master Gabriel Haller waited a very long time at the door of the tent, +till one of the bodyguards came out to inform him that the Prince would +dine that day in his family circle.</p> + +<p>Then he too shook his head and departed.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>A couple of days later, with drums beating and banners waving, Prince +Michael Apafi made his triumphal entry into Klausenburg.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VIII" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE PERI.</span></h2> + + +<p>Once more we are in Hungary, among the Homolka Mountains, in one of +those parts of the land which no one has ever thought of colonizing. For +fifty miles round there is not a village to be seen; not a single +passable road traverses the whole mountain range. The very footpaths +break abruptly off amongst the rocky labyrinths, terminating either in a +leaf-covered waterfall, or at the forsaken hut of a charcoal-burner, the +carbonized, sooty environment of which suffers nothing green to grow.</p> + +<p>The very skirts of this wilderness are uninhabited. One can wander for +hours among the oaks and beeches, towering up one above the other, +without hearing any other sound but one's own footsteps; not a blade of +grass, not a flower, not a shrub can thrive anywhere here. Beneath the +uncleared trees rustle the fallen yellow leaves, peeping up from the +midst of which we perceive the speckled caps of oddly-shaped fungi +clinging in clusters to the mossy tree stems.</p> + +<p>Only where the stream dashes down from the mountains, forcing its way +through the valley, does the greensward appear. There, among the +luxuriant grasses, lie the fearless stags; wild bees build their +basket-shaped nests in the hollow trees on the margin of the stream, and +sweep buzzing round the Alpine flowers which dance on the surface of the +water.</p> + +<p>That stream is the Rima.</p> + +<p>In the dim, dismal distance still higher mountains appear, from which +the stream plunges down in a snow-white torrent. The morning mists +exaggerate the magic remoteness of the scene, and when at last you have +reached the extremest point of that remoteness, it is only to see before +you a still more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> awful expanse, still more desolate mountain ranges, +forming as it were an immense and uninterrupted ladder up to heaven.</p> + +<p>The Rima burrows in every direction among these primeval mountains. She +alone is bold enough to force her way through this wild rocky labyrinth. +Sometimes she plunges down from the granite terraces with a +far-resounding din, dissolving into a white, cloudy spray, in which the +sunbeams paint an eternal rainbow, which spans the velvet-green margins +of the abyss like a fairy bridge. A moss-clad rock projects from the +midst of the waterfall, dividing it into two, and from the moss-clad +rock wild roses look over into the dizzying, tumbling rapids below. Far +away down, the vagrant stream is hemmed in between basalt rocks; the +twofold echo changes its monotonous, muffled roar into melancholy music; +its transparent, crystal waters appear black from the colour of their +stony bed, wherein rosy trout and sprightly water-snakes, like silver +ribbons, disport themselves; then, escaping from its brief constraint, +it dashes onwards from crag to crag, angrily scourging a huge mass of +rock which once, in flood-time, it swept into its bed from a distance of +many miles, and which, after the next thaw or rainfall, it will hurl a +thousand fathoms deeper into the rock-environed valley.</p> + +<p>Higher and higher we mount. The oaks and beeches fall behind us; the +pines and firs begin. The horizon opens out ever wider and wider. The +transparent mists which have hitherto veiled the heights are left behind +in the depths. The little green patches of valley are scarcely visible +through the opal atmosphere, and the hilly woodlands have dwindled into +dark specks; only their outlines, gold and lilac in the rays of the +rising sun, are still distinguishable.</p> + +<p>And before us the mountains still rise higher and higher. One feels +tempted to scale these fresh giants also, in order to find out whether +there is really any end to them. Now too even the Rima has forsaken us. +Deep down below, we perceive a round, dark-blue lakelet, enclosed on all +sides by steep rocks, on the mirror-like surface of which white swans +are bathing beneath the shadows of the pines dependent over the water's +edge. In the midst of this lakelet, the source of the Rima tosses and +tumbles, casting its bubbling crystal fathoms high, and keeping the +lakelet in perpetual ebullition, as if some spirit were trying to raise +up the whole lake with his head.</p> + +<p>And yet another mountain range starts up before our eyes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> covered with +thick fir-woods, though nothing else will grow on the steep ridge, which +is covered along its whole length by masses of rock piled one on the top +of the other. Nowhere does a single green speck meet the eye.</p> + +<p>Having scaled these heights also, we naturally fancy that at last we +have reached the highest point, when suddenly, high above the dark fir +forests, a white giant emerges, and before the eyes of the wearied +mountaineer rise the lofty distant peaks of the Silver Alps, +representing the unattainable with their towering, snowy pyramids.</p> + +<p>Here we pause.</p> + +<p>All along the mountain ridge, standing out the more distinctly for the +great distance, meanders a footpath, disappearing among the pine forests +at one point and re-emerging at another, thereby showing that some one +must dwell here in the wilderness, a circumstance the more startling as, +up to this point, the region has seemed altogether uninhabited, while +beyond it shimmer the still more inhospitable snowy mountains.</p> + +<p>From the top of this peak one sees hundreds and hundreds of mountains +and valleys exactly resembling one another. The eye grows weary of +regarding them, and so long as the sun's rays strike obliquely over the +region, suffusing it with a golden mist, one can barely distinguish the +separate parts of the oppressively sublime panorama.</p> + +<p>Gradually, however, our attention is attracted towards a deep, rocky +gorge, surrounded by greyish-blue mountains, which seem likely at any +moment to topple over. In the midst of this gorge an enormous and +completely isolated rocky pillar stands upright, looking for all the +world as if it had just fallen from the skies. A careless glance might +easily pass over this rocky mass without seeing anything remarkable +about it; but a more attentive observer would discover a narrow wooden +bridge planted on fir-wood piles, and apparently connecting the rocky +block with the surrounding mountain summits. And gradually we perceive +that it was not Nature's hand which made this rocky scaffolding so high. +Those monochromatic rocks, piled one atop the other, forming a wall all +round, and seeming to prolong the mountain range, are the work of human +hands. It is a massive rocky bastion, almost as high as the hill which +forms its base, and as the walls are everywhere carried right out to the +verge of the steep, naked mountain side, they look as if they have grown +out of it, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> as if the creeping plants which cling to the rocky walls +are only there to bind them more closely together.</p> + +<p>In the year 1664, the eye which looked down from this point upon the +bare bastions could have perceived within them a dwelling fresh from +fairy-land. Corsar Beg, the terror of the district, dwelt in this +stronghold, and at his command, hedges of roses bloomed on the bastions, +groves of orange and pomegranate trees sprang up around the courtyard, +and everywhere could be seen those gorgeous structures which oriental +magnificence builds for transient pleasure. Spacious rotundas with +sky-blue, enamelled cupolas, sparkling in the sun; variegated turrets +rising from the bastions; balconies adorned with arabesques and covered +with porcelain vases; slim, snow-white minarets encircled by fragrant +creepers; trellised kiosks with their gilded columns; everything +constructed of the most delicate materials, as if it were meant to be a +toy castle; nothing but gilded wood and painted glass, enamelled tiles +and variegated tapestry. Bright banners and pennants flutter down from +the copper roofs, and golden half-moons sparkle on every gable-ridge. +All the kiosks, rotundas, and minarets are bright with banners and +half-moons. 'Tis a fairy palace ready to take flight.</p> + +<p>But the bastions which encircle this frail fairy palace are impregnable. +On every side nothing but inaccessible rocks, where, if once he reach +them, the pursued can defend himself against odds a hundredfold. The +Comparadschis stand, day and night, with burning matches behind the +cannons which Corsar Beg has had cast for himself within the fortress, +for there is no road for ordnance in the whole region. Two of the +cannons are pointed at the bridge, to blow it into the air in case of an +assault.</p> + +<p>From this stronghold Corsar Beg sallies forth, pillaging the land and +massacring the defenceless people; and if he lights upon any pursuing +host, he instantly turns tail with his Spahis and Bedouins; and whilst +he flies to his stronghold along mountain paths, on mules laden with +booty, his Timariots, who cover his retreat, throw barricades up on the +narrow roads, and stone to death all who venture to follow them into the +dark gorges. Sometimes, however, he permits the pursuers to come right +up to the fortress walls, and while they are popping away at the rocky +bastions with the little half-pound mortars which they have dragged up +thither after incalculable exertions, and think that now they will +starve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> him out at last, he plays a practical joke upon them by somehow +or other (perhaps through subterranean ways), making a sortie from his +stronghold, and robbing and burning behind the backs of the besiegers. +Every attempt to capture, surprise, or blockade him has been in vain. +The inhabitants of the surrounding villages have begun to migrate into +more distant regions for fear of their terrible neighbour.</p> + +<p>After the battle of St. Gothard, in which the Turkish general lost the +fight and twelve thousand men against the Imperial and Hungarian forces, +a twenty years' armistice was concluded between the Porte, the Emperor, +and the Prince of Transylvania, which left the Turks in possession of +all the fortresses which they had built or captured in Hungary. The +lords of these fortresses now continued the war on their own account, +and pillaged and destroyed whenever and wherever they had a chance. The +Sultan was too far off to interfere in each individual case. All he +could do was to authorize the complainants to capture the peace-breakers +if they could, and deal with them as they chose.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>In the twilight hour of a sultry summer evening, when the heat, +compressed among the rocks during the day, made the atmosphere so heavy +and stifling that sound only travelled with difficulty, we see two +shapes hastening towards the same point from different directions. One +is a man in Hungarian costume, with a low forehead and sharp, squinting +eyes, whose oblique gaze seems expressly made to disconcert whomsoever +he looks upon. The other is an old Turkish woman, with a warty chin +covered with sprouting bristles. The sleeves of her long striped kaftan +hang slovenly down, and her dirty turban gives you the impression that +she has slept in it for weeks together.</p> + +<p>The trysting-place which the two shapes are cautiously making for is a +cavern covered with bushes. Both shapes glide, at the same time, into +the cavern, from the dark depths of which they can see the fortress +without being seen themselves. The old woman, with a hideous smile, +whispers something in the man's ear.</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure?" inquired the squinter, with a searching look.</p> + +<p>"So certain that I make bold to claim one-half of the promised reward in +advance."</p> + +<p>"That I can quite understand," replied the man with an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> insulting smile; +"but I will make bold not to pay it. I prefer sticking to my principle +of paying as I go along, sentence by sentence."</p> + +<p>"Ask then!" murmured the hag greedily.</p> + +<p>"When does the Beg return? I lay five ducats on that question."</p> + +<p>"The answer to it costs ten. That is my lowest price."</p> + +<p>"There's your money then! Now speak!"</p> + +<p>The woman counted the gold pieces, put them in her bosom, and replied—</p> + +<p>"The Beg comes home this evening."</p> + +<p>"Where is the subterranean way by which he arrives?"</p> + +<p>"The answer to that costs one hundred ducats."</p> + +<p>"There you are! Don't count them, but answer me!"</p> + +<p>The woman took the money, pointed to the yawning chasm behind them, and +said—</p> + +<p>"We are on the very spot."</p> + +<p>The man looked around him with some surprise, then, jingling the purse +from which he had been doling out the ducats in the old woman's ear, he +said—</p> + +<p>"All in this purse is yours if our plan succeeds, but if you betray us, +this dagger will surely reach you. I'd hunt you down even if you took +refuge in hell itself!"</p> + +<p>The hag grinned.</p> + +<p>"No threats, please! I know something which will not only make you hand +over that purse of gold to me instantly, but will also fill you with +such insane joy that you'll be ready to cover me with kisses. I have +about me a letter which, if once your master reads, he would cover me +with gold from head to foot."</p> + +<p>"Who wrote it?"</p> + +<p>"That is a very dear question. If you paid for the answer down, I'm +afraid you would not have enough money left to carry you home."</p> + +<p>"I want to know who wrote that letter. I'm not going to buy a pig in a +poke."</p> + +<p>"Then farewell! If you want to know anything more, you must pay for it." +And she prepared to go.</p> + +<p>"Stop! Give me that letter, or I'll kill you."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't! One shriek from me and you are lost."</p> + +<p>"Where's the letter?"</p> + +<p>"You surely don't think me fool enough to tell you! I don't carry it on +my person, so you need not look for it!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>The man angrily threw the purse towards her, whereupon she tripped to +the entrance of the cavern, fetched from thence her crutch and unscrewed +its handle, and drew forth from the hollow of the stick a crumpled +silken roll, which the man unravelled and began to read, and as he read +his face began to tremble for joy, disbelief, and surprise.</p> + +<p>"If all this really happens, what you have now received is a mere +earnest of what you will receive hereafter."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you so?" returned the beldame complacently. "Didn't I say +that you'd gladly pay me in advance at least one-half of the sum +stipulated?"</p> + +<p>"Now, take heed that nothing is observed!"</p> + +<p>"Pst! Go round by the stream, the usual path is to-day infested by +marauding parties."</p> + +<p>With these words the two shapes glided hastily out of the cavern, and +vanished in different directions among the thickets of the wood.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>And now begone, thou inhospitable outer world! thou oppressive mountain +panorama! thou desolate horizon!</p> + +<p>Appear, ye fairy realms! ye earthly counterfeits of the paradise of +dreams! Permit us one glance into the sanctuary of mysterious joys, of +stifled kisses, of glowing sighs, where Love and Love's satellites alone +do dwell and live!</p> + +<p>We see before us a gorgeous circular saloon. Its spacious walls are made +of mirrors, the perpetual reflection of which lends a peculiar lustre to +every object, nowhere suffering a shadow to fall. The sky-blue cupola of +the domed ceiling is supported by slender, dark-red porphyry columns, +half concealed by clusters of exotic flowers, which, heaped profusely +together in rose-coloured porcelain vases, scatter the gold-dust of +their velvet blossoms on the floor. The floor itself is covered with +silk carpets—only here and there does the mosaic pavement shimmer +forth. In the midst of the room, in a basin of rose-coloured marble, +bubbles a crystal-clear fountain, from the centre of which springs a jet +glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and falling back in showers +of liquid pearls. The water of this fountain is introduced into the +fortress through a secret passage by hidden pipes. All along the walls +extend rows of velvet divans with cylindrical, flowered cashmere +cushions; and on every side of us are fairies, laughing young girls +dancing on the carpets, romping on the divans, and splashing one another +with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> water of the fountain. One odalisk swings a cymbal above her +head, and dances with audacious leaps and bounds among the rest, who, +winding their hands together, weave a magic circle around her. Three +Nubian eunuchs accompany the dancers, singing love-lorn lays to the +music of their simple pipes.</p> + +<p>The veils of these fairy forms flutter left and right, revealing faces +whose youthful charms no eye of man has ever gazed upon. The patter of +their tiny feet is scarcely audible on the soft carpets. They seem to +fly. Their light muslin robes ill conceal their youthful forms, and +their tresses, escaping from their turbans, writhe down their snow-white +shoulders like tame serpents.</p> + +<p>A black slave is playing with the little gold fish that dart about in +the basin of the fountain, and laughs aloud whenever any of the nimble +little animals wriggle out of her hands. Her white, embroidered robe is +held together by a golden girdle, and as she sits there on the rosy +marble, the hemispheres of her ebony-black bosom and her plump round +arms glisten in the sunbeams. The glow of youth shines through her dark +features, and her coral lips, radiant with mirth and joy, allow us a +glimpse at rows of the purest pearly teeth, as, with childish glee, she +laughs at her own simple sport.</p> + +<p>At the end of this oval saloon, raised a few feet above the floor, +stands a purple ottoman. The rosy-coloured damask curtains, which form a +baldachin over it, are tied to the branches of enormous jasmine trees by +heavy golden tassels. Oriental butterflies, with ultramarine wings, +flutter round about the silvery jasmine blossoms; and at the head of the +ottoman, on a perch in a golden cage, two little inseparable paroquets, +with emerald wings and carmine heads, nestle close together and kiss +each other perpetually.</p> + +<p>Stretched out to her full length upon the ottoman lies Corsar Beg's +favourite odalisk<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> Azrael. Beneath her snow-white elbows, left bare +by the loose-falling, laced sleeves of her ample kaftan, lies a living +panther, like a bright speckled cushion, licking his glossy skin, and +playing like a young kitten with his mistress's jasper-black locks which +descend upon his head.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> <i>Odalisk</i>, from Turkish Odalyk = chamber-maid. Applied +particularly to the chief concubines of the Sultan.</p></div> + +<p>The young lady has well chosen her companion. She too is as slender and +as supple as he; her limbs are just as flexible as his; her slight +figure has the same undulating motion, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> in her languid eyes burns +just the same savage, half-quenched fire which we see in the eyes of the +half-tamed beast of prey. She lies supine on the ottoman. The amber +mouthpiece of her fragrant narghily droops from her listless hand. Close +by, on a little ivory table, spiced sherbet exhales from a golden bowl. +There too, on Japanese dishes, lie heaps of luscious fruit—golden, +warty melons; pine-apples; the red fruit of the palm; fragrant clusters +of grapes—and, dripping down upon a little silver platter, snow-white +comb-honey, gathered by the bees in the days of the acacia's bloom.</p> + +<p>Azrael bestows not a glance on the luscious fruits. When, from time to +time, she raises her languid eyes, half hidden by their long silken +lashes, one is almost thunderstruck: such burning glances are only to be +found beneath southern skies, whose summer is as glowing, as +languishing, as parching as the eyes of this girl. An eternal desire +burns in those eyes, unspeakable, unappeasable, which enjoyment feeds +without satisfying. If you gave her a world she would instantly demand +another. Even when every sense is sated with bliss and rapture, her +heart remains empty, and yearns after the unattainable. Those who love +her, she hates; those who hate her, she loves. Die for her, and she will +mock you; kill her, and she will adore you.</p> + +<p>Her oval face is as pale as though the burning rays of her eyes had +burnt up all its roses; but when she closes her eyes, and her bosom +heaves convulsively beneath the fire of her secret thoughts, the bright +crimson blood suffuses her cheeks once more.</p> + +<p>And how her lips tremble! She is in a brown study. She speaks to no one. +Dancing and singing, the girls of the harem circle round her. A little +negro boy kneels before her with a silver mirror. Half-naked female +slaves shower down rose-leaves upon her, and fan her with peacock's +feathers. Azrael sees them and hears them not. She looks into the +mirror, and speaks to herself, as if she would read her own thoughts +from her own features; her lips tremble, smile, and pout defiance; her +eye entices, languishes, weeps, or flashes rejection; at one moment she +transports you into the seventh heaven of delight, at the next she +dashes you to the earth. And now some cruel thought, some demoniacal +idea has got hold of her. She retracts her upper lip, exposing her +tightly-clenched teeth; her contracted eyebrows draw a trembling furrow +across her snow-white forehead; the pupils of her eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> disappear, +leaving only the upturned whites visible; the beauty lines round the +corners of her mouth grow crooked, and give the expression of a Fury to +the beautiful countenance; her curling tresses, like writhing snakes, +twist down on both sides of her. Her tremulous fingers, involuntarily +and spasmodically, clutch at the smooth neck of the panther, and the +tortured beast roars aloud for pain.</p> + +<p>The favourite shrinks back from her own countenance. She thrusts aside +the little negro, mirror and all; wraps her starry veil around her; +turns upon her side with her tiny scarlet-slippered feet beneath her; +presses her supple body against the panther's neck, and leaning upon her +elbows, glances around with such a savage, menacing look, that every one +on whom it falls, not even excepting the wild beast, shrinks back with +fear.</p> + +<p>But she cannot keep still a moment. A tormenting weariness compels her +every moment to shift her position. Now she reclines on her divan, and +raising her arms aloft, throws back her head and neck; all her limbs +writhe like the folds of a serpent; in her eyes sparkle the tears of +smothered desires.</p> + +<p>None dare ask her, "What ailest thee?" Azrael is so capricious. Perhaps +the questioner might please her, and she would command her to +straightway leap down before her eyes from the highest pinnacle of the +Corsar's castle into the abyss below. It is therefore neither wise nor +safe to try to please Azrael.</p> + +<p>But lo! a gold-trellised door opens, and Azrael's tearful eyes sparkle +with joy when she perceives who it is that enters. It is the old woman +with the warty chin, whom we have already met at the cavern's mouth. A +ghastly, hideous duenna! Turkish women age prematurely. Ten years ago +Babaye was Corsar Beg's favourite mistress, now she is Azrael's +favourite slave.</p> + +<p>The hag sits down at Azrael's feet. She alone has the privilege of +sitting down before Azrael.</p> + +<p>"Are we weary then?" said the beldame to the beautiful odalisk, with a +confidential leer, displaying a row of jagged fangs black from +sugar-sucking and betel-chewing. "We find no joy in anything, eh? What! +have not the Bayaderes<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> danced amidst a circle of burning tapers? Or +has that also<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> lost its charm? Are the Persian silks already shabby and +threadbare? Is there no longer any flavour in the honeycomb or any +perfume in the pine-apple? Have the pearls of Ceylon lost their lustre? +Do the songs of the Italian eunuchs vex and weary? And has the mirror +nothing beautiful to show? Wherefore is the Sun of suns so moody and so +impatient? Why should a cloud obscure the heaven of Damanhour? Shall I +delight her of the alabaster forehead with a tale? Shall I tell the +story of the captive lion which Medzsnun, the immortal poet, has +written?"</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> <i>Bayaderes.</i> Indian singing and dancing girls. A +Portuguese word.</p></div> + +<p>Azrael cast down her languid eyelids by way of assent.</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time they captured a lion in the palm forests of +Bilidulgherid. A rich and powerful Dey bought the beast for a thousand +gold pieces. The Dey was a mighty man. At his command they built for the +lion a cage of gold so large that palm-trees could stand upright +therein. The ceiling of the cage was inlaid with lapis-lazuli. They +brought to it, from the distant mountains, a spring of living water, and +the floor was decked with purple carpets. But the lion was sad and +silent. All day it lay there sullen and morose. Only when the sun had +set would it arise with an angry roar, shake the door of its cage, and +terrify the silence of the night. The Dey asked the lion, 'What dost +thou lack, my beautiful beast? Thy house is of gold. Thou dost eat with +me out of the same dish, and thy drink is the crystal spring! What more +dost thou desire? Wouldst thou bathe in ambergris? Or dost thou desire +for supper the hearts of my favourite odalisks?' The lion roared and +made answer, 'My cage, though it be of gold, is still a cage; these +palm-trees are not the groves of Nubia, and this basin is not the +springs of the desert of Berzendar. I want neither thy perfumes nor thy +spices, nor the throbbing hearts of thy slaves. Give me back the free +air of the desert, there will I speedily find again my good-humour!'"</p> + +<p>Babaye was silent. The odalisk, with a tremulous sigh, bowed down her +head upon her aching bosom, and beckoned to the duenna to tell her yet +another tale.</p> + +<p>"Wouldst thou hear the story of the fairy and the mortal maiden? Once +upon a time the fairy of the rainbow perceived a lovely maiden, enticed +her away with sweet words, and took her over the bridge of the seven +colours into the third heaven. There, everything was more beautiful than +it is on earth—the flower a languid diamond; the sigh of the zephyr a +melodious song; the pillars of the palaces nought but crystal and gems.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +There every sense experienced a threefold greater bliss than here below. +The fairy treated the maiden like the apple of her eye—fairies know the +secret of loving tenderly—and yet the girl was sad. She grew weary in +heaven, and whenever the fairy went away to suck up water for the sky +from the ocean, she saw how the girl bent over the rainbow-bridge, and +looked longingly down upon the cloudy earth. 'What lackest thou?' she +asked the maiden. 'Wherefore dost thou look down so upon the earth? +Speak! What dost thou want? Command me, and I'll fetch it for +thee!'—'Stars are falling down from heaven,' replied the girl, 'and +they fall upon the earth. Give me of them, and I will make a pearly +coronet for my hair!' And the fairy went and brought the stars. Again +the maiden looked down sadly upon the earth. Again the fairy asked her, +'What dost thou lack? Is there aught on earth that thy soul desirest?' +The maiden answered, 'There below dance slim damsels, and look up +smilingly at me! Wherefore are they happier than I? Would that I had +their heads to play at ball with!' And the fairy brought the heads of +the damsels for the maiden to play at ball with."</p> + +<p>Azrael looked at the hag with contracted eyebrows, half raised herself +upon her elbows, and sought in her golden girdle for the malachite +handle of her little dagger.</p> + +<p>"Once more the maiden looked down upon the earth," resumed Babaye, +smiling. "'Is aught else to be found there that is worth a wish?' asked +the fairy in despair. 'Below there, youthful heroes are walking to and +fro,' returned the maiden, 'and they are all so sweet and so lovely. +Thou art a fairy, 'tis true, but thou art alone in heaven. Thou canst +not give me fresh love. Let me go back again to earth.'"</p> + +<p>Azrael sprang from the ottoman with glowing cheeks, and seized the +beldame by the shoulder. Her bosom heaved tumultuously; a threatening +scarlet flamed upon her burning face. All the muscles of her snow-white +arms seemed to quiver.</p> + +<p>Babaye looked up at her with a grin.</p> + +<p>"Come into thy bathing-chamber," said she to the agitated odalisk. "The +agate basin exhales the perfumes of spikenard and ambergris. Whilst thou +art there alone, I will entertain thee. I know still more beautiful +tales which shall rejoice thy heart."</p> + +<p>Azrael, all tremulous, drew her veil around her neck, and with nervous +irritability beckoned to the girls to be gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> They escaped through the +side-door in terrified haste; nor were they fearful without good cause, +for as soon as Azrael had withdrawn, the deserted panther, freed from +the thrall of his mistress, stretched himself to his full length, lolled +out his red tongue as far as it would go, protruded his sharp claws, +lowered his head with a menacing growl, sprang at a single bound into +the middle of the room, careered twice or thrice round the walls, +savagely howling and snuffing at every door behind which he scented the +vanished slaves, scratched at the threshold with bloodthirsty rage, and +whined peevishly because he could not get at them. Then he crouched down +by the water-basin, rested his fore-paws thereon, lapped up the +crystal-clear stream with his long red tongue, then, rolling himself +into a ball on the soft carpet, seized his long speckled tail between +his hind legs and played with it like a cat. Then he stood up again, +looked around with cunning, malignant eyes, and perceiving a large white +cockatoo in a bronze cage, wriggled towards it on his belly, and watched +it for a long time with lowered head and restless tail. Suddenly, with +one bound, he sprang upon it, and seized the bar of the cage with his +claws. The terrified cockatoo, loudly screeching, struck at his +assailant with his crooked bill; and the panther, who could neither +overthrow the cage nor destroy it, for it was nailed fast to the ground, +leaped over it again and again, roaring furiously, and then cowered down +before it, lashing the ground on both sides of him with his tail, and +gaping from time to time at the terrified bird with his wide +bloodthirsty jaws, whilst the cockatoo screeched, whistled, fluttered +about the cage, and hacked away at his inaccessible perch.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Along the hollow, labyrinthine way which meanders into the Corsar's +castle, the trampling of a troop of horsemen is faintly audible. The +clash of arms resounds from the depths of the wood long before we can +discern who are approaching. Now they have climbed to the mountain +summit where the road runs along the rocky ridge. It is Corsar Beg +himself with his robber band. The booty-laden mules lead the way. The +treasures of pillaged churches gleam forth from the leathern sacks piled +one on the top of the other. In the centre rides the Beg himself, with +his motley body-guard recruited from every kind of Turkish +cavalry—silk-clad Spahis with long lances, bare-armed Baskirs with bows +and arrows, Bedouins in snow-white mantles with long, brass-tipped +muskets. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> Beg is a man in the prime of life. His brown, almost black +countenance makes his slight beard and moustaches nearly invisible. His +lips and eyes are large and swollen. His projecting cheek-bones and +broad chin give him a truculent, ferocious air, with which his massive +shoulders and enormous muscular development well agree. His clothing is +tastelessly overladen with gems. A string of pearls goes round his +turban. Large gold rings hang glistening down from his ears. His dolman +is embroidered with a flower-pattern of precious stones, and everything +about his horse, from its hoofs to its snaffle, is of pure gold. His +round shield is made of burnished silver, and the head of his +morning-star consists of a single cornelian.</p> + +<p>His troop follows him in silence. Many of the horsemen carry behind them +half-swooning Christian girls on whom they do not bestow a glance. The +garments of all these freebooters are stained with blood; some of them +have not even taken the trouble to wipe away the blood-stains from their +faces.</p> + +<p>The mules, whipped by the fellahs, trot noiselessly towards the +fortress; the host ambles after them along the narrow path. The Timariot +infantry straggle behind, and quarrel among themselves about the booty +which they carry on their shoulders. No one pursues them.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The large oval room is empty. The women of the harem have withdrawn into +their own apartments. Azrael is alone.</p> + +<p>On quitting her perfumed bath, she has a hammock slung over the +fountain, reclines therein, rocks herself luxuriously to and fro, and +lets her glowing, snow-white limbs be splashed by the water-jet. She +folds her arms across her bosom, and, with a self-complacent smile, +watches the diamond jet break against her lithe body as the swaying +hammock cuts across it with its charming burden.</p> + +<p>The red curtains are let down to keep out the rays of sunset, but a +rose-coloured light pervades the room, suffusing every object with a +soft and magic hue. The odalisk appears like a rosy water-nymph swinging +on a bright lotus-leaf over a fountain of liquid rubies.</p> + +<p>The atmosphere of the room is impregnated with a bewitching, +love-inspiring perfume. Not a sound is to be heard save the pattering of +the water-drops as they fall back into the basin.</p> + +<p>All at once the familiar winding of a horn is heard outside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> The +prancing and neighing of horses in the courtyard scares away the +silence. Above the din rises the word of command of a well-known voice. +Azrael smiles, and rocks herself still more swiftly in her hammock. A +fatal enticement lurks in her eyes as she looks towards the +golden-trellised door, and throws back her head.</p> + +<p>A minute later, and we hear hasty steps approaching. Impelled by love, +Corsar Beg is hastening towards his earthly paradise. The turning of a +key is audible in the golden door. Azrael laughs aloud, and rocks +herself still more swiftly in her bright-winged hammock.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The shadows of night have descended. Every living thing sleeps soundly. +Love alone is wakeful.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I fear me! I fear me!" whispers Azrael, clinging still more closely +to the breast of the wild Moorish horseman.</p> + +<p>"Why dost thou tremble? I am here," and he embraces her slim waist.</p> + +<p>"Hamaliel hath brought me evil dreams," returns the odalisk. "I dreamt +that the Giaours stormed thy castle in the night-time and murdered thee. +I would have hurled myself down from the battlements, but I could not +because I was a captive. A Christian held me in his arms! Mashallah! it +was frightful!"</p> + +<p>"Fear not!" said the Corsar. "The Koran says that only birds can fly, +and none can get into this castle without wings. But even if we were +surprised thou hast no cause to fear falling into the hands of the +Infidel, or being defiled by the touch of the Giaour, for under the +ottoman on which we now lie a lunt is laid which goes right down into +the powder-chamber. If all were lost, thou hast but to touch that lunt +with this night-lamp, and the whole castle with us and our foes would +fly into the air."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a consoling thought!" sighs Azrael, softly pressing her lips +to the Corsar's cheeks, and seeming to slumber once more.</p> + +<p>The night-lamp flickers feebly on its tripod, multiplying its own +shadow. The watchers snore before the doors.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Azrael springs screaming from her couch, dragging the Beg along +with her.</p> + +<p>"La illah, il allah! Dost thou not hear the noise of the Jins?" she +cries, trembling in every limb.</p> + +<p>The Beg stares around him in terror. A tempest is raging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> outside. The +weathercocks creak and rattle. The wind tears the tiles from the summits +of the minarets, and hurls them on to the cupolas of the kiosk. The +lightning flashes, and the thunder teaches the rocks to tremble.</p> + +<p>"Dost thou hear how they howl, those invisible beings, and rattle at the +barred and bolted windows with a mighty hand?"</p> + +<p>"By the shadow of Allah! I hear them right well," murmurs the trembling +freebooter, with wildly staring eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mercy! mercy! Avaunt, ye evil spirits!" cries Azrael, sinking down upon +the floor with dishevelled tresses, and stretching wide her naked arms. +"Ye shall be whipped with sunbeams and the darkness shall swallow you! +Go hence to the Giaours and torture them! May ye break your wings on the +horns of our half-moons, as ye whirl past them in your hosts!—Ha, how +their eyes flash! Shadow of Allah, conceal us, lest they look upon us +with their fiery eyes!"</p> + +<p>The big, strong man, all trembling, lies on his face beside Azrael, and +hides himself beneath her mantle and her long flowing tresses. His +superstitious terror has stolen every feeling of manliness from his +breast; he quakes like a child.</p> + +<p>"Dost hear! dost hear how they murmur! Repeat rapidly and aloud the +prayer of Naama, and stop thy ears that thou mayst not hear what they +say!"</p> + +<p>At that moment a terrible gust broke one of the panes of glass, and the +free invading air began to move the heavy curtains to and fro, and make +the lamp flicker.</p> + +<p>"Ha! Dost thou see him?" cried Azrael. "Pst! Look not thither! Open not +thine eyes! Hide thy face! Duck down by me! Cover thee with my mantle! +It is Asasiel, the Angel of Death! Dost thou not feel his cold sigh upon +thy cheek? Pst! Be covered! Perchance he will not see thee!"</p> + +<p>Corsar Beg clung convulsively to Azrael's garment, and covered his face +with his hands.</p> + +<p>"What wouldst thou?" cried Azrael, as if addressing an invisible spirit. +"Black shadow, with blue sparkling eyes of fire, for whom dost thou +come? There is none here but I. Corsar Beg has not come home! Come +later! Come an hour hence! Avaunt, avaunt, black being! May Allah crush +thy head in the dust! Come an hour hence, and be for ever accursed!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>Corsar dared not open his eyes. Azrael bent half over him, to shield him +from the eyes of the Angel of Death.</p> + +<p>"Avaunt! avaunt!"</p> + +<p>At that moment the lightning struck one of the bastions, and shook the +mountain to its very base. The crackling roar of the thunder, like an +infernal trumpet-blast, went clanging up to heaven.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Azrael, and she sank down upon the Corsar, encircled his +body with her arms, and so remained till the rumbling of the thunder had +died away, and a gentle shower began to patter down upon the copper +roof. Then the tempest gradually passed away, sighing and moaning around +the windows, and finally dying away among the distant forests.</p> + +<p>Azrael softly raised her head and looked around.</p> + +<p>"He is gone," she whispered, in a scarcely audible tone. "He said he +would return in an hour. Corsar, thou hast yet another hour to live."</p> + +<p>"An hour!" repeated Corsar faintly. "Alas! Azrael, where canst thou +conceal me?"</p> + +<p>"It cannot be. Asasiel is inexorable. Another hour, and he will take +thee away."</p> + +<p>"Bargain with him. If he must have the dead, I will behead a hundred of +my slaves. Promise him blood, treasure, prayers, and burning villages. +All, all he shall have, only let him give me back my life!"</p> + +<p>"Too late. In my dreams I saw thy sword break in twain. Thy days are +numbered. Nay, thou hast but one chance left, but one way of thwarting +the Angel of Blood: if only one among the dead will change names with +thee, so that Asasiel may carry him off instead of thee."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! oh yes!" stammered the strong man, beside himself for fear. +"Oh, seek me out some such dead man who will change names with me. Thou +dost know the incantations. Go! call up one from the grave! Promise him +anything, everything, whoever he may be—a fellah, a rajah, it matters +not. I'll give him my name and take his. Go!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, but thou must go also. Gird on thy kaftan quickly. Leave thy +weapons here. Spirits fear not sharp steel. We will descend into the +churchyard beneath the fortress walls; kindle ambergris and borax on a +tripod; hurl the magic wand into the nearest grave, and so compel the +dwellers therein to appear before thee. When the spirit appears he will +stand motionless, but thou must advance towards him, and cry thrice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> in +a loud voice—'Die for me!' whereupon the spirit will vanish, and +Asasiel will cease from troubling thee."</p> + +<p>"But thou too wilt be close at hand?" stammered the Corsar, grasping +tightly the arm of the odalisk, as if he feared that Death would +instantly seize him if he let her go.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will be by thy side. But hasten. An hour is but a brief +respite."</p> + +<p>Corsar quickly threw his upper garment around him, and recited in broken +sentences the beginning of a prayer, the end of which he could not +recollect.</p> + +<p>"Wake none of the watch," said Azrael cautiously. "The power of the +spell might be broken if we met any living soul who should say a prayer +contrary to ours. We will saddle the horses ourselves and descend by +secret paths. Speak not a word by the way, nor cast a glance behind +thee."</p> + +<p>The Beg was ready. He was just putting on his fur-lined kaftan, for his +limbs felt frozen, when the odalisk called to the panther, which was +reposing on the carpet.</p> + +<p>"Oglan,<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> thou shalt go with us and keep watch, and if we fall in with +a wild beast, thou shalt defend us."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> <i>Oglan</i>, the Turkish for boy.</p></div> + +<p>As if he understood the words of his mistress, the panther rose up on +his hind legs and placed his fore-paws on her arm, while the trembling +man clung to her on the other side.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The Turkish cemetery beneath the walls of the fortress is planted with +cypress trees. The turbaned graves, with their coffin-like slabs, peer +forth, ghastly white, from among the dark weeping-willows. The sound of +the approaching footsteps startles away a grey wolf from among the +tombs, the sole inhabitant of that desolation. Since the last shower the +clouds have dispersed, and here and there the dark-blue sky looks +through with its diamond stars. Raindrops trickle down from the leaves +of the trees.</p> + +<p>From time to time the rumbling of the storm is still heard faintly in +the distance. Sheet-lightning flickers above the mountain crests, +painting everything white for an instant. The lightning, like the night, +can only give one colour to this region—the one paints it white, the +other black.</p> + +<p>The nightly shapes reach the churchyard by the secret path and dismount +among the graves. Azrael places the reins of both horses in Oglan's +jaws, and the shrewd beast remains<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> sitting there on his haunches, +holding both the snorting horses as firmly as if they were fastened to a +stake.</p> + +<p>The Moorish horseman and the odalisk ascend a high funereal mound, the +tombstone of which is barely visible through the dependent branches of a +weeping willow.</p> + +<p>"Something more than a slave must rest beneath that stone," whispered +Azrael to the quaking horseman; and placing her magic tripod on the +tomb, she ignited with a phosphorous pellet the powdered ambergris and +borax, which flickered up and cast a whitish glare all around the grave.</p> + +<p>There was a slight rustle in the distance. The Corsar's horse neighed +uneasily.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" asked the Corsar.</p> + +<p>"The Jins," replied Azrael; "look not behind thee."</p> + +<p>With that she raised her magic staff, and pronounced in unintelligible +words the exorcism over the grave.</p> + +<p>"Thou restless spirit, appear at my bidding. Wherever thou art, beneath +the dark tree of Hell, or in the garden of the Houris; whether thou dost +pine in chains of fire or dost recline on beds of roses, obey my voice, +fly through the air, dissipate the darkness, and appear before me in the +mortal shape thou didst wear on earth. Appear!"</p> + +<p>With these words she struck with her staff upon the stone slab, and +immediately a lofty shape in a white winding-sheet rose up from behind +the tomb.</p> + +<p>"Now advance three steps forward and speak to it," cried Azrael to the +confounded Moor.</p> + +<p>With tottering footsteps Corsar Beg approached the shape, and cried with +a hoarse, trembling voice—</p> + +<p>"My name is Corsar Beg. Who then art thou, accursed spirit?"</p> + +<p>"I am Balassa," replied the shape with a sonorous voice; and casting +aside the white winding-sheet, a powerfully-built, fair-complexioned man +appeared with a drawn sword in his hand. "Corsar Beg, you are my +prisoner," cried he to the Turk, who stood there in his bewilderment as +if turned to stone.</p> + +<p>The next moment the Beg put his hand to his side, and not finding his +sword there, rushed back with a howl of fury to his horse, threw himself +like lightning into the saddle, and struck his sharp spurs into the +flanks of his steed. But Oglan held the reins firmly between his teeth, +and when the horse tried to start off, the panther planted his front +paws firmly into the ground, and forced it back again.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>"To hell with thee, accursed monster!" roared the Beg, foaming with +rage, and striking at the panther with his fist; but the beast tugged +the halter first to the right and then to left, and stopped the horse in +its flight; terrified it with his leaps and bounds, and forced it to go +round and round.</p> + +<p>"Speak to this monster, Azrael!" cried the Beg. He turned round to look +for his favourite, and he beheld her nestling lovingly in Balassa's +bosom, with her snow-white arms encircling the young Hungarian's neck. +At the same instant the woods all around teemed with life; the ambushed +Hungarian soldiers rushed forth and tore the Beg from his horse, who, +even when forced to the ground, tried to defend himself with stones.</p> + +<p>"Be accursed!" gasped the vanquished freebooter.</p> + +<p>The attacking squadrons marched before his very eyes through the secret +passage into the fortress, and an hour later he could see, by the light +of his burning palace, his favourite Azrael mounting up behind Balassa, +and disdaining to bestow so much as a glance at the discomfited Beg.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IX" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER.</span></h2> + + +<p>Several years have elapsed since Apafi became a Prince. We have reached +that period when the unexpected death of Nicolas Zrinyi dissolved the +faction of the malcontent Hungarians, compelling most of them to +emigrate into Transylvania, which land, owing to the ceaseless +antagonism of the German Emperor and the Turkish Sultan, was allowed to +enjoy an independent government. It paid indeed a tribute to the Sublime +Porte; but it adopted what measures it chose in its own Diet, and if the +Tartars occasionally reduced a few villages to ashes, that was only +another proof that they no longer regarded the land as their own +property. All the strongholds were in the hands of the Prince. He could +keep as many soldiers as his purse would pay for, wage war with +whomsoever he could cope, and hoodwink the Turks whenever it pleased him +so to do. The Turk had nothing to find fault with, either in the +constitution of the land, its peculiar privileges, its patriarchal +aristocracy, its Latin language, and its Hungarian dolman; or, again, in +its manifold religions and its three distinct<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> and self-governing +nationalities. All these things did not trouble him in the least. At +most he pitied the poor gentlemen who made such a muddle of affairs of +state; but he never made the slightest attempt to initiate them into his +own much simpler political system.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> <i>Viz.</i> the Saxons, the Szeklers, and the Magyars. The +Wallachs simply cultivated the soil.</p></div> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Meanwhile, great changes had taken place at Ebesfalva.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> The dwelling of +the Prince no longer consisted of a simple manor-house. On a +neighbouring hill he had had a castle built with lofty, square towers, +from the corners of which rose still loftier turrets. The entrance was +guarded by two proudly rampant stone lions. On the façade, in bold +relief, was carved the inscription: <i>Fata viam inveniunt</i>. A vestibule, +connecting one wing of the castle with the other, and surrounded by a +richly-gilded and ornamented trellis-work, runs along the front of the +castle on huge, classically-carved stone pillars. The windows are all in +the Perpendicular style, with old-fashioned ornaments, and you reach the +inner courtyard by a subterranean corridor.</p> + +<p>In this courtyard, instead of ploughs and wagons, our eye falls upon +arquebusses and culverins. Instead of peasants, we see body-guards, in +yellow dolmans and scarlet hose, swaggering before the doors. To reach +the Prince's cabinet, one must traverse long corridors and re-echoing +saloons, in which pages, footmen, and gentlemen of the bedchamber +announce the newcomer from door to door, and when one has finally +reached the reception-chamber, it is only to see, after all, not the +Prince, but the Prince's chief councillor, Master Michael Teleki, the +same bald-headed man whom we first met at Csakatorny, at that memorable +hunt where Nicolas Zrinyi met his death. At that time the worthy +gentleman was only one of Prince George Rakoczy's disgraced ex-captains; +but since then a kind Providence has taken him by the hand, and he is +now Captain-General of Kövar, and the Prince's omnipotent prime +minister. His mother was the Princess's sister, and his aunt, whom he +always calls sister (women seldom take offence at such mistakes), +introduced him to her consort. Once near the Prince, Teleki needed no +one's good word. His comprehensive intellect, vast knowledge, and +statesmanlike dexterity made him indispensable to the Prince, who loved +to bury himself among his books and his antiquities, and felt aggrieved +when anything tore him away from his family circle or his favourite +studies.</p> + +<p>To-day, too, his reception-room is crammed to suffocation by gentlemen +who seek an audience of his Highness. They are the fugitive Hungarians, +of whom the Prince seems to stand in peculiar horror. These restless, +bellicose, dark-browed people are an abomination to the easy-going, +contemplative Prince. So he shuts himself up in his study, and the only +person admitted to his presence is the learned and reverend John +Passai,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> Professor at Nagy-Enyed, beloved by the Prince on account of +his profound scholarship.</p> + +<p>Apafi's private room is more like the study of a scholar than the +cabinet of a ruler. All around stands filled with books in gilded +bindings hide the walls, and in every corner lie heaps of plans and +charts. In the very circumscribed intervening spaces stand consoles with +clocks upon them, which the Prince always winds up himself; and the +chairs and sofas are so overladen with books for immediate use, that +whenever the Prince has a confidential visitor, he hardly knows where to +bestow him. Nay, sometimes the stone floor itself is so bestrewn with +outspread maps, dusty MSS., and open folios, that Teleki, when he +enters, has to walk as circumspectly as one who picks his way +circuitously through mud and mire.</p> + +<p>The two gentlemen are at the present moment standing before the table, +which is covered with all sorts of ancient coins. Apafi wears a short +grey coat with loose sleeves, which is fastened round his loins by a +silken cord. His headgear consists of a round skin cap. Passai is +buttoned up in a dark-green, fur-lined mente, which reaches from his +chin to his heels. His thick white hair is shoved back and held together +by a large circular comb. His face, despite the wrinkles which cover it, +is fresh and ruddy, and his teeth are as perfect as those of a youth.</p> + +<p>Apafi is attentively regarding a gold piece, which he poises between his +fingers and holds against the light. Passai stands hat in hand before +the Prince like a log, with his wrinkled countenance fixed intently on +his Highness.</p> + +<p>Apafi petulantly turns and twists the coin in all directions.</p> + +<p>"These are not Roman letters," he angrily murmurs; "neither are they +Greek nor Cyrillic, and least of all Hunnish symbols. Where was it +found?" he asked, turning to Passai.</p> + +<p>"In Vasarhely, as the Wallachs were removing the ruins of the old +temple."</p> + +<p>"Deuce take them! They might have been better employed."</p> + +<p>"It was a very ancient ruin, what they call a Roman temple."</p> + +<p>"But it cannot have been a Roman temple, for this is not a Roman coin."</p> + +<p>"That's my opinion too; but the Wallachs have a way of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> regarding all +the ruins in Transylvania as Roman monuments."</p> + +<p>"But why did they take it to pieces?"</p> + +<p>"The villagers wanted to make lime of the statues."</p> + +<p>"The impious wretches!" cried Apafi indignantly, "to turn such precious +masterpieces of art into lime. And you have not striven to save at least +a part of it from destruction?"</p> + +<p>"I bought the lid of a sarcophagus adorned with sculptures, and a sphinx +in a perfect state of preservation; but the Wallach who was charged with +their removal was too lazy to have them lifted up as they stood, so he +broke up the statues into five or six pieces, so that he might have less +trouble in loading his cart."</p> + +<p>"That man deserves to be impaled. I will issue a decree that no one +shall henceforth lay a hand upon such antiquities."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid your Highness will arrive too late, for when the people +found that I was paying for these stones, the belief spread among them +that I was seeking for diamonds and carbuncles therein, so they smashed +the whole mass into such tiny morsels that they could now be offered for +sale as sand."</p> + +<p>"Have you spoken to that nobleman of Deva about the mosaic?"</p> + +<p>"He won't part with it at any price. He said that none of his ancestors +had ever carried their property to market. If only he would remove it +from the place where he found it, it would be something. But he won't +even do that, and now the cow-house stands over it, and the oxen make +their beds on the prostrate figures of Venus and Cupid."</p> + +<p>"I should very much like to confiscate that man's property, and so come +into possession of that priceless curiosity," cried Apafi, with a +scholar's zeal, and again he busied himself with the investigation of +the enigmatical letters.</p> + +<p>At that moment Teleki entered the room with a busy, important look, and +drawing from his silken pocket a MS. roll, placed it open in Apafi's +hand. The Prince made as though he were reading the document +attentively, and wrinkled his brows. Suddenly he looked up and exclaimed +joyfully—</p> + +<p>"They are Dacian letters!"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Teleki, opening his eyes wide in his astonishment. He was +at a loss to explain how the Prince could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> have found Dacian letters in +the Latin MS. which he had just put into his hands.</p> + +<p>"Yes; there can be no doubt about it," continued the Prince. "I +recollect reading somewhere—in Dion Cassius, I think—that the Romans, +after the fall of Decebalus,<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> had commemorative medallions struck off +with Dacian inscriptions, and the figure of a decapitated man on the +reverse. Don't you see the emblem?"</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> <i>Decebalus</i>. King of Dacia during the reigns of Domitian, +Nerva, and Trajan.</p></div> + +<p>"But your Highness," interrupted Teleki impatiently, "the memorial which +I have handed to you——"</p> + +<p>And now for the first time Apafi perceived that a parchment was in his +hand awaiting perusal. He returned it sulkily to Teleki.</p> + +<p>"I have already told you that I can speak to no one to-day. In a month +the session of the Diet will begin, and then the Hungarian gentlemen can +ventilate their affairs to their hearts' content."</p> + +<p>"I cry your Highness' pardon!" replied Teleki caustically; "this +document is not from the Hungarian lords, but from his Excellency the +Tartar Khan."</p> + +<p>"And what does he want?" cried Apafi, throwing a glance upon the +parchment, but when he perceived how long it was he laid it aside. "I +will be brief with him. Who brought the letter?"</p> + +<p>"An emir."</p> + +<p>Apafi immediately threw his attila over his shoulders, girded on his +sword, and stepped into the reception-room.</p> + +<p>"Good-day! good-day!" he cried hastily to those assembled there. He +wished to cut short their long ceremonious greetings, and looked about +among them with inquiring eyes.</p> + +<p>"Where is the emir?"</p> + +<p>The Tartar envoy at once stepped forward. He was a truculent, swarthy +fellow, with small sparkling eyes. A heron's plume as long as the shaft +of a lance waved from his large turban. He wore a red, richly-fringed +jacket, and the gold inlaid hilt of his scimitar peeped forth from his +broad girdle. Defiantly he placed himself in front of the Prince and +stuck out his chest.</p> + +<p>"<i>Salem alek!</i> What do you want?" asked Apafi curtly.</p> + +<p>The emir measured the Prince from head to foot twice or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> thrice with his +piercing eyes, threw back his head, and said—</p> + +<p>"My master, the gracious Kuban Khan, bids me say to thee, O Prince of +the Giaours, that thou art a perjured, false, and faithless man. Thou +didst swear by thy honour that we should be good neighbours, and how +hast thou kept thy word? It chanced last year that we traversed the +Saxon<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> land, and visited those towns whose names no true believer can +pronounce, to collect the usual yearly tribute. They were ever good +payers, but some among them chancing to lag behind with their +contributions were, by the order of the most gracious Khan, instantly +reduced to ashes that they might learn to behave better another time. +And perchance thou dost fancy that they amended their evil ways? Not at +all. For when we visited them again this year, we found the charred and +naked walls as we had left them the year before: the unbelieving dogs +had traitorously fled away. Wherefore my gracious master, the mighty +Kuban Khan, bids me ask thee what manner of prince thou art that dost +suffer these unbelieving dogs to so forsake their towns and make fools +of us. When we came at other times, the hay was housed, the corn +thrashed, the cattle stalled—and this time we find nought but weeds, +and therein hares and other unclean beasts which ye unbelievers delight +to eat, and none of the towns built up again, so that we could take no +vengeance. Look to it, then, if thou wouldst not draw down upon thy head +the wrath of the mighty Khan, look to it that thou commandest this +runaway people to return to its towns that we may reckon with them; and +in the meantime bid the remaining Saxon towns, which have faithlessly +environed their houses with impregnable walls, that they open their +gates to us, otherwise we will visit thee in Klausenburg itself with +fire and sword, and will not leave thee one stone upon another."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> <i>Saxons</i>. Geza II. (1141-1161) planted in Transylvania a +German colony to clear the forests and till the lands. These so-called +Saxons have survived to the present day, and reside chiefly at +Hermannstadt.</p></div> + +<p>Apafi, during the course of this speech, had frequently laid his hand on +his sword, but he evidently thought better of it, for it was with the +utmost tranquillity that he thus replied—</p> + +<p>"Go back! Greet thy master, and say that we will give him satisfaction."</p> + +<p>With that he turned his back upon the envoy, and would have returned to +his cabinet had not Teleki barred the way.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>"That is not enough, your Highness. Once for all we must make it +impossible for any dog-headed Tartar to speak such brave words before +the throne of the Prince of Transylvania."</p> + +<p>"Speak to him then yourself!"</p> + +<p>Teleki thereupon, with an earnest, dignified mien, stepped up to the +emir, stared him out of countenance, and said with a firm voice—</p> + +<p>"Thy master is doubtless the ruler of Tartary, but is not my master the +Prince of Transylvania? And is not the sublime Sultan the protector of +us both? Know then that the sublime Sultan did not make thy master Khan +of Tartary that he might dwell in Transylvania, nor has he set my master +on the throne of Transylvania to endure the insolence of thy master! Go +back then to thine own land, and come not hither again to wonder why a +town which is burnt down one year is not built up again the next. We +will take good care that all such places are rebuilt, but we will also +see that the bastions are high enough to keep thee out, and shouldst +thou desire to visit us at Klausenburg next year, we will also take care +that thou shalt not have thy journey for nothing, and will provide guns +in abundance to salute thee at a respectful distance."</p> + +<p>All this Teleki said to the emir with a perfectly serious countenance.</p> + +<p>The emir snorted with fury. His eyes grew bloodshot. His hand played +with the hilt of his scimitar, and he stammered with pallid lips—</p> + +<p>"If any of my master's servants spoke thus in his presence, he would +immediately have his head struck off."</p> + +<p>But Apafi tapped Teleki on the shoulder, and murmured as he stroked his +beard—</p> + +<p>"It is well, Master Michael Teleki! You have spoken like a man."</p> + +<p>The emir turned furiously upon his heel, and, shaking the dust from his +feet, left the room.</p> + +<p>This scene put Apafi in a good humour, especially with Teleki. The +minister could read this change of mood in his master's face, and +hastened to make use of it. Taking one of the many suitors by the hand, +he presented him to Apafi with these words—</p> + +<p>"My future son-in-law, your Highness."</p> + +<p>Apafi would probably have escaped from a presentation made in any other +way; but made in this form he could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> possibly avoid it. He was +compelled to cast a glance upon the young man.</p> + +<p>The person so presented was a tall, handsome stripling with blooming red +cheeks and no trace, as yet, of a beard. In his femininely beautiful +features, it was pride alone which revealed the man.</p> + +<p>The youth pleased Apafi.</p> + +<p>"What is your son-in-law's name?" he asked Teleki.</p> + +<p>With a peculiar smile Teleki said—</p> + +<p>"Emerich, Stephen Tököly's son."</p> + +<p>On hearing this name, Apafi suddenly became very grave, and said to the +young man—</p> + +<p>"Your father was a good friend to me"—and yet he did not extend his +hand to the son.</p> + +<p>"I know it," replied the youth, "and for that reason I have come to your +Highness."</p> + +<p>"But your late father—God rest him!—was an unruly spirit. It is well +that you have not followed in his footsteps. He was never happy unless +he was fighting. The thunder of artillery was a vital necessity to him, +and the last hours of his life were spent at a siege. Well for you that +you do not imitate him! You seem to me a very steady, quiet sort of +young man."</p> + +<p>"Oh! such praise as that I'm sure I don't deserve," replied Tököly +proudly; "I also was at the siege you speak of, and defended the +fortress till my father died."</p> + +<p>Apafi did not like to be interrupted in this way, but, meaning to show +his sympathy, he added, after a pause—</p> + +<p>"And how then did you manage to escape, my son?"</p> + +<p>Emerich blushed deeply and would not answer; but Teleki, by way of +correcting his young kinsman's intemperate zeal, answered +apologetically—</p> + +<p>"The fact is, he was then very young, so they disguised him in woman's +clothes, and he was thus able to elude the vigilance of the besiegers."</p> + +<p>Apafi immediately recovered his good-humour. He playfully stroked the +youth's blood-red cheeks, and signified to Teleki that he might now +introduce the other gentlemen also.</p> + +<p>They were all fugitives from Hungary, and the Prince did his best to +appear gracious towards them; but, in the meantime, one of the court +ushers entered and announced with a loud voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"His Excellency Monsieur l'Abbé Reverend, the French Envoy, desires an +audience."</p> + +<p>This announcement again filled Apafi with embarrassment. He drew Teleki +aside and whispered in his ear—</p> + +<p>"I will not, I cannot receive him. Go out and speak to him yourself, and +explain how matters stand." And with that he hastily quitted the +reception-room, delighted at having this time shifted the difficulty on +to Teleki's shoulders; but he remained listening at the door to find out +whether there would be any violent explosion behind his back.</p> + +<p>And an explosion there certainly was, though not of a particularly +terrifying character.</p> + +<p>The Prince heard Teleki burst into a jovial peal of laughter, whereupon +all the gentlemen present with one accord followed his example, just as +if they were taking part in some intensely amusing diversion.</p> + +<p>"It must indeed be a very peculiar phenomenon which extorts such +extravagant merriment from these sour-faced gentry," thought Apafi, and +he half opened the door—he could not quite open it, because learned +Master Passai, ordinarily a miracle of gravity, had so given himself up +to mirth that he was forced to lean back against the Prince's cabinet.</p> + +<p>"Let me come in, Master Passai!" cried the inquisitive Prince, and +succeeding shortly afterwards in opening the door, the cause of the +general mirth was immediately obvious to him.</p> + +<p>The Abbé Reverend stood in the centre of the room in full Hungarian +costume. A more comical figure was scarcely conceivable.</p> + +<p>The worthy gentleman, who rejoiced in the possession of a really +redoubtable corporation, standing there, clean shaven and benignly +smiling, presented an amiably ludicrous figure, of which only an +Hungarian, or one who knows what a severe criterion of the human figure +the tight-fitting Magyar costume really is, can form any idea. Add to +this that the worthy Frenchman, in his stiff hose and spurred +jack-boots, moved about as gingerly as if he feared every moment to fall +on his nose. He had also forgotten to buckle on his girdle, which lent a +peculiar quaintness to his general get-up, and his long bag-wig, in +which he looked like a lion, was surmounted by a tiny round cap from +which waved a gigantic heron plume.</p> + +<p>Apafi did not see why he too should not smile when the others laughed.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Reverend, with that facility peculiar to Frenchmen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> of coupling +gaiety with solemnity, tripped at once up to the Prince and said—</p> + +<p>"Your Highness's persistent refusal to receive me made me assume that +perchance I did not present myself becomingly attired, and my present +good-fortune demonstrates the correctness of my assumption, for the +moment I present myself in Magyar costume I am lucky enough to behold +you."</p> + +<p>"Parbleu, Monsieur!" returned Apafi, repressing his merriment with +difficulty, "I am always glad to see you on condition that politics are +banished from our discourse. But you have not fastened on your scarf, +and without the scarf a person in the Magyar dress looks for all the +world like a Frenchman who has forgotten to put on his breeches."</p> + +<p>With these words the Prince produced a scarf adorned with gems, and tied +it with his own hands round the respectable waist of Monsieur Reverend.</p> + +<p>"And what's this? Who taught you to stuff your pocket-handkerchief into +your trousers pocket? Only heydukes do that. What the deuce! A nobleman +always keeps his pocket-handkerchief in his kalpag. So! Hem! What a +beautiful pocket-handkerchief you've got!"</p> + +<p>"Splendid, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is! A garland pattern in silk thread, with gold and silver +embroideries at the corners. Only Paris can produce the like of this."</p> + +<p>"And yet it was manufactured in Transylvania."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and what is more, in this very place, in Ebesfalva."</p> + +<p>Apafi looked at Monsieur Reverend with amazement.</p> + +<p>"And I not to know the artistic hands which work such beautiful things!"</p> + +<p>"But your Highness does know them. The name of the fair artist will be +found embroidered in gorgeous Gothic letters on the hem of the +handkerchief."</p> + +<p>Apafi carefully examined all the corners of the handkerchief one after +the other. Each had a different device embroidered on it—here a wreath +of oak-leaves, there a trophy, in the third a Turkish scimitar, an +Hungarian sabre, and a French sword bound together by a ribbon. At last +he came to the fourth corner, where, beneath a princely coronet, was +embroidered the word <i>Apafiné</i>.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> <i>Apafiné</i> = Lady Apafi. The "né" is a feminine suffix.</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>The Prince read the name aloud. All who stood around looked at Apafi's +face with fearful suspense, as if they expected an explosion of wrath. +To every one's surprise, however, the Prince only smiled, stuck the +pocket-handkerchief into Monsieur Reverend's kalpag, cocked it rakishly +on the ambassador's head, and said to him with peculiar <i>bonhomie</i>—</p> + +<p>"So you have succeeded in seducing my wife, eh?"</p> + +<p>Reverend laughed awkwardly at what was a rather ambiguous jest so far as +he was concerned.</p> + +<p>"Me, however, you shall not seduce," added Apafi, smiling.</p> + +<p>Reverend bowed deeply; then, throwing back his head, he observed +archly—</p> + +<p>"That will be brought about also, I hope, though by mightier than I."</p> + +<p>At that moment the door opened and a servant announced—"Her Highness, +Dame Anna of Bornemissa, his Highness's consort, desires an audience of +the Prince."</p> + +<p>Apafi looked at Teleki.</p> + +<p>"This is all your doing."</p> + +<p>Teleki calmly replied—"It is, your Highness."</p> + +<p>"You have besieged us in form?"</p> + +<p>"I do not deny it, your Highness."</p> + +<p>"It was you who brought the ambassador to the Princess?"</p> + +<p>"Such is indeed the case, your Highness."</p> + +<p>"And it was you who then advised him to present himself in this +masquerade in order to lure me hither more easily?"</p> + +<p>"I did it all, your Highness."</p> + +<p>"Then you have done a very foolish thing, Master Michael Teleki."</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen, your Highness," replied the minister proudly, +conscious of his own intellectual superiority.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Dame Apafi had entered the room; her princely robes well +became her princely aspect. All the gentlemen present hastened forward +to do her homage. But Apafi also advanced quickly towards her, put his +arm through hers, and with marked tenderness endeavoured to lead her +into his cabinet.</p> + +<p>"No; let us remain here," cried the Princess; "there will be plenty of +time later on to look at your Dutch clocks. Far more serious matters +claim our attention first. These gentlemen from Hungary desire an +audience."</p> + +<p>Apafi exploded at once.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>"I know beforehand what they want, and I have declared once for all that +I will hear no more of the matter."</p> + +<p>"But you will surely listen to me. I too am an Hungarian woman, and in +the name of my fatherland I implore the Prince of Transylvania for help. +None shall say that I rule the Prince in secret. Look now, I advance +openly before his throne, and I beg of him protection for Hungary, whose +sons are called strangers in Transylvania, though I, her daughter, am +the Princess."</p> + +<p>From Apafi's looks it was clear that he would much rather have listened +to the Hungarian gentlemen than to his own consort. But he was caught in +a trap. She stood before him as a petitioner. There was no escape.</p> + +<p>Teleki bade the pages in waiting at the door admit no one else. Apafi, +with a gesture of impatience, sat down in an arm-chair, and resigned +himself to listen to his consort; but Anna had scarcely commenced to +speak, when the rattling of a coach was heard in the courtyard, and +shortly afterwards heavy footsteps resounded in the corridors, and a +stern, dictatorial voice, with which every one appeared to be familiar, +asked if the Prince was in. The pages said No, and tried to stop the +intruder, but exclaiming, "Out of my way, you brats!" he burst open the +door and forced his way into the room. It was none other than Denis +Banfi.</p> + +<p>He had just descended from his carriage. His cheeks were much redder +than usual, and his eyes sparkled. He went straight towards the Prince +and cried, without the slightest preamble—</p> + +<p>"Do not listen to these gentlemen, your Highness! Do not listen to a +single word."</p> + +<p>The Prince smiled and greeted Banfi.</p> + +<p>"God preserve you, my cousin," said he.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, your Highness, if in my great haste I neglected to salute +you; but when I heard that the Hungarian gentlemen were here in +audience, I was quite beside myself with rage. What do you want?" +continued he, turning towards the Hungarians; "not satisfied, I suppose, +with ruining your own country with your unruliness, you must needs come +hither to disturb us likewise?"</p> + +<p>"You speak of us," remarked Teleki, with quiet sarcasm, "as if we +belonged to some outlandish Tartar stock, and as if we had been cast +hither from heaven only knows what sort of savage, distant land."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I know you only too well, ye Hun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>garian lords. I speak +of you as men whose turbulence has, time out of mind, been ruinous to +Transylvania. The people of Hungary are idiots one and all."</p> + +<p>"I beg you not to lose sight of the fact that I too am one of them," +said the Princess.</p> + +<p>"I know it; and it is with anything but satisfaction that I see the will +of your Highness predominant here."</p> + +<p>Dame Apafi, with an expression of wounded dignity, turned towards her +brother-in-law.</p> + +<p>"Whatever you may say, I will not cease to be your good kinswoman and +well-wisher," and with these words she quitted the room.</p> + +<p>"You might at least have addressed the Prince more becomingly," remarked +Teleki, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Have I then spoken one word to the Prince?" asked Banfi, shrugging his +shoulders. "How can I even reach his Highness when you are always +standing in the way? I am and always will be the enemy of those who have +no right whatever to stand on the steps of the throne, and you are one +of them, Master Michael Teleki. Oh, don't imagine that the reasons which +make you so enthusiastic in the Hungarian cause are hidden from me. You +are not content with being the first in Transylvania after the Prince; +you would fain become Palatine of Hungary<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> as well. Ha! ha! how you +all befool one another. The French promise aid to the Hungarians; the +Hungarians promise Teleki the dignity of Palatine; Teleki promises Apafi +a kingly crown, and ye lie, the whole lot of you; ye deceive and are +deceived."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <i>Palatine</i> (Hungarian: "<i>Nador</i>"). The Palatine was the +highest dignitary in Hungary after the King. The dignity was instituted +soon after the year 1000, but since 1848 has been found incompatible +with modern parliamentary government.</p></div> + +<p>"Sir," replied Teleki, bitterly, "is that the way to speak to guests, to +exiled, unhappy fellow-countrymen?"</p> + +<p>"Don't teach me how to be generous," retorted Banfi, proudly. "At my +house the poor and the persecuted have ever found an asylum, and if +these fugitive gentlemen wish us to share house and home with them, I'm +ready to do so. Here's my hand upon it. But just as I should be out of +my senses to burn my own house down, so now too I protest against the +conflagration of my country; and if you do not cease from troubling a +peaceful land, I'll leave no stone unturned till I have driven you all +out."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>"We ought not to be surprised at this tone, my friends," said Teleki, +with bitter scorn, turning towards the Hungarians. "His Excellency here +has been so very recently amnestied by the Prince, that he imagines he +is still at war with us."</p> + +<p>Apafi, who had been sitting on burning coals, now interposed.</p> + +<p>"Cease this bickering. We dismiss you all. You see that sundry of our +councillors are against the matter, and without their consent I can do +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Then," cried Teleki, with solemn emphasis, "we appeal to the Diet."</p> + +<p>"I too will be there," said Banfi.</p> + +<p>The Prince, very much offended, withdrew to his cabinet. The Hungarian +nobles, much excited, went out by the other door. Teleki remained +behind. Banfi, adjusting his marten-skin cap, haughtily measured his +opponent from head to foot, and exclaimed ironically as he went out—"I +leave my reputation behind me!" Teleki returned his gaze with the most +nonchalant sangfroid.</p> + +<p>When every one had disappeared, Teleki whispered some words to a page, +who went out and returned in a few moments with a florid, curly-headed +young man. Methinks we have seen this youth somewhere or other before, +though only for an instant which we cannot call to mind. A beggar's sack +hangs down over his ragged clothing, his hand holds a knobby stick.</p> + +<p>"So you permit me at last to approach the Prince?" said he, in a +somewhat dictatorial tone.</p> + +<p>"Sit down here by the door," replied the minister; "the Prince goes to +dinner shortly, and will pass by this way. You can then speak to him."</p> + +<p>The young man with the beggar's sack sat for a long time at the Prince's +door, till Apafi came out of his room on his way to dinner. The beggar +with the knapsack planted himself right in his Highness's way.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" asked the Prince, much surprised.</p> + +<p>"I am that renowned warrior, Emerich Balassa, who once was one of the +chief men of Hungary, and now stands before your Highness with the +beggar's staff."</p> + +<p>"You were involved, I understand, in that conspiracy against us?" said +Apafi, disagreeably flurried.</p> + +<p>"That I was not, your Highness. If you would deign to listen to my tale, +then——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>"Speak!"</p> + +<p>"There was once in Hungary a famous Turkish freebooter, named Corsar +Beg, who for a long time ravaged the mountain regions. The banded might +of six counties was insufficient to besiege him in his fortress. This +man I captured by subtlety. By promises and flatteries I won over his +favourite slave, who enticed him out of his stronghold by night and +alone. I, duly advertised thereof, fell upon him with horsemen ambushed +in the woods, and took captive both him and his slave, who is the most +beautiful and the most abandoned of her sex in the whole world."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of you, Master Balassa. It was a daring deed."</p> + +<p>"Listen further, your Highness. No sooner had the news of my capture +spread abroad, than the Palatine of Hungary, very emphatically, insisted +upon my handing over the prisoners to him. The Turks had already offered +me a ransom of sixteen thousand ducats for the pair, but I would not +part with the girl at any price. I therefore sent word to the Palatine +that if he wanted a Beg of his own he must catch one, for I had not +captured mine on his account."</p> + +<p>Apafi laughed heartily. "That was one for him!"</p> + +<p>"Thereupon the Palatine waxed wroth, and by the Emperor's command sent +out troops against me to rob me of my captives. Now just at this very +time, your Highness's brother-in-law, Denis Banfi, had taken refuge in +my castle, and to him I entrusted the slave, of whom I was madly +enamoured. He was to fly with her to my castle of Ecsed, and as I saw +that the Palatine was bent upon securing Corsar Beg for himself in order +to cut off his head at Buda as a warning to all malefactors, I gave the +Turk poison, which he, to escape the scaffold, thankfully accepted. +When, therefore, the troops of the Palatine arrived at my house, all +that they found there was the cold corpse, which the Turks afterwards +purchased from me for a thousand ducats."</p> + +<p>"The Palatine was naturally very angry, I suppose?" remarked Apafi.</p> + +<p>"'Twas I who had cause to be angry, for all through him I lost fifteen +thousand ducats, and yet he succeeded in obtaining an order for my +apprehension from the Emperor. I scented the danger in time, and got +together my valuables in order to fly into Transylvania, and remain +there till the affair had blown over. First of all, then, I hastened to +my castle at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> Ecsed, whither, as I have said, I had sent Banfi on +beforehand with the Turkish slave. While still on the way, I learnt that +Banfi had been restored by your Highness's amnesty to his former +position. I rejoiced greatly thereat, supposing that I now had in him a +powerful protector. Nevertheless, on reaching Ecsed, I found no sign or +trace of the girl. My castellan there informed me that Banfi had carried +her off with him, and left a letter behind for me, which contained the +following words—'Learn from this, my friend, that there are three +things you should never entrust to another—your horse, your watch, and +your mistress!'"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Apafi; "is this really true?"</p> + +<p>"Pray let your Highness look at his own writing," and he drew the letter +in question out of his leather knapsack. "He is said to have concealed +the girl somewhere in his forests at Banfi-Hunyad."</p> + +<p>Apafi turned scarlet with rage.</p> + +<p>"'Tis monstrous!" cried he. "This fellow possesses a virtuous and lovely +wife of his own—my consort's own sister—and yet he can so far forget +his duty as a husband! I'll not put up with it!"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, your Highness; I have nothing more to do with Banfi now. My +complaint is against one Kapi, who had the usufruct of my Transylvanian +property. Not wishing, then, to have anything more to do with Banfi, I +took up my quarters with Kapi at Aranyosi Castle. Your Highness, the +pomp which that man displays exceeds anything that I have ever seen, and +I have seen many princely and palatinal courts in my day. His wife never +uses her feet at all. Even if she wants to get to the door, she is +carried thither in a gilded sedan-chair, and she never wears a dress +more than once!"</p> + +<p>"But what have I to do with the frippery of Dame Kapi?"</p> + +<p>"I'm coming to that. Her love of display costs money, and has compelled +her husband to resort to fraudulent practices. And besides, such +extravagance concerns your Highness also, as tending to emphasize the +contrast already apparent between the frugal simplicity of your +Highness's court and the dazzling pomp of these petty kings—a contrast +which has already made a pretty deep impression upon our foreign +visitors. Thus, quite recently, the Bavarian minister, who had come from +a banquet at Ebesfalva to Aranyosi, remarked in a flattering tone to +Dame Kapi, in my hearing, that she was the real Princess of +Transylvania."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>"He said that, did he?" cried the Prince, becoming much interested. "Go +on with your narrative. So he said that Kapi's wife was the real +Princess, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yet strip from off her her costly pearls and diamonds, and you will see +that in regard to beauty and majesty she is not fit to lace the shoes of +her Highness the Princess Apafi."</p> + +<p>"Go on! go on!"</p> + +<p>"Well, one fine day this same Kapi came to me, and told me that your +Highness had been commanded by the Palatine to arrest and deliver me +over to him."</p> + +<p>"I receive a command! I know absolutely nothing about it."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately I believed his words, and imagining myself caught between +two fires, I made over my Transylvanian property to Kapi to save it from +confiscation, he at the same time delivering to me an undertaking to +re-transfer the estates as soon as possible. Meanwhile I resolved to fly +to Poland, and stay there till the storm blew over. Kapi gave me two +guides, who were to conduct me through the mountain-passes to the +frontier; but at the same time he secretly informed the frontier +sentinels that I was a spy sent by the Emperor to explore Transylvania, +and was now desirous of returning unobserved. So the rogues waylaid me, +robbed me of all my money and papers, and dragged me to Fehervar, where +my innocence came to light, but my money and papers were of course +hopelessly lost. And now this Kapi actually maintains that I sold him +all my property, and I've nothing in the world but this leather knapsack +round my neck, with which I must now beg my way about."</p> + +<p>"Be of good cheer. I will give you the most exemplary satisfaction," +returned the enraged Prince.</p> + +<p>"It is a matter which also concerns your Highness's own dignity," +replied Balassa. "These great lords behave in as high-handed a fashion +as if they had absolutely no superior."</p> + +<p>"Be easy. I will very soon show them who is the real Prince of +Transylvania."</p> + +<p>Apafi, full of indignation, then left the audience-chamber.</p> + +<p>A storm was gathering over the heads of two great men who stood in +Teleki's way.</p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE DEVIL'S GARDEN.</span></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_I" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE PATROL.</span></h2> + + +<p>Clement the Clerk stuck his pen behind his ear and recited to himself +the elegant verses which he had just composed, two hundred strophes in +all, almost every line of which ended in <i>fuerat</i>, with a sporadic +<i>fuisset</i> in between.</p> + +<p>Michael Apafi used regularly to repent whenever he had offended any one, +and he therefore could not rest till he had compensated the itinerant +scholar Clement for the snub he had administered to him, and this he did +by making the unsophisticated poet his——Patrol-officer.</p> + +<p>In those days many agreeable duties were connected with this +office—duties which Clement simply left alone, devoting himself instead +to the composition of epics and chronicles, which he manufactured in +great abundance.</p> + +<p>At that moment he was casting his eyes over a great epic, in which he +recorded how his Highness, Prince Michael Apafi, had gone out against +Érsekújvár to besiege it; how with splendid valour he had arrived there; +how, on beholding the foe, he had drawn his sword; how, after mature +deliberation, he had turned back again; and how, finally, he and all his +heroes had returned home again safe and sound.</p> + +<p>Poetic distraction had so completely absorbed the faculties of Clement +the Clerk, that a week had already elapsed since his servant had made +off with his master's spurred jack-boots, without the latter, in his +capacity of Patrol-officer, thinking of pursuing the runaway; but in +fact he was confined within a vicious circle, inasmuch as every time he +thought of inquiring for his boots, it occurred to him that his servant +had stolen them; and every time he thought of going out and inquiring +for his servant, it occurred to him that he had no boots.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> What could he +do then under such circumstances but sit down again, and write poems in +absolutely endless quantities?</p> + +<p>His room had not been swept out for weeks, naturally therefore there was +no lack of dust and cobwebs; but, by way of contrast, the deal floor all +around the solitary table was mottled with ink-blots. The table itself +had only two legs, the place of the others being supplied by layers of +bricks.</p> + +<p>The poet scribbles, erases, and nibbles at his pen; on the window-sill +lies a piece of bread and some cheese; it occurs to the poet that it has +been put there for him to eat; but first he must use up the ink still +remaining in his pen, and in doing so another idea occurs to him, and +after that a third, and then a fourth; meanwhile mice come skipping out +of a hole beneath the window-sill, frisk about the bread and cheese, +nibble away at it till not a morsel remains, and then skip back into +their holes again. The poet having wearied out his Pegasus, starts up, +looks for his bread and cheese, and perceiving that only the crumbs +remain on the window-sill, concludes that he has already eaten his fill, +so sits him down again and goes on writing.</p> + +<p>While he is thus plaguing himself for the benefit of posterity, somebody +begins scratching at the door, and after groping about the door-hinge in +search of the door-latch, finds it at last, and shakes it to and fro as +if he does not know what to do with it. This disturbance disagreeably +awakens Clement the Clerk out of his poetic reveries, who, after vainly +exclaiming in a loud and angry voice that the door is not bolted, finds +himself at last obliged to rise from his seat and open the door himself, +lest the importunate visitor should break off the latch or lift the door +bodily from its hinges.</p> + +<p>Before him, with a sealed letter in his hand, stands a gaping Wallach +peasant, who appears extraordinarily terrified to see the door open, +though that was the very thing he had been aiming at all along.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it?" snapped Clement the Clerk, horribly angry. "Why +don't you speak?"</p> + +<p>The Wallach raised his round eyebrows, which looked, for all the world, +like a charcoal smear extending from his nostrils to his temples, and +which also served him as a kind of propeller for shoving backwards and +forwards the lamb's-wool cap that he wore half over his face, looked at +the poet with wide-open eyes, and asked him—</p> + +<p>"Are you he whom they pay to tell lies?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>The Wallach meant no offence by this terminology. It was only his +roundabout way of describing Clement the Clerk's sphere of activity.</p> + +<p>The poet was almost choking with rage.</p> + +<p>"And whose ox are you?" he exclaimed furiously.</p> + +<p>"The ox of his Excellency who sent this letter," he answered with +perfect simplicity.</p> + +<p>"What is your master's name?" cried Clement, angrily snatching the +letter out of the Wallach's hand.</p> + +<p>"They call him Excellency."</p> + +<p>Clement tore open the letter and read as follows—"I want a word or two +with you; follow the bearer whithersoever he leads you."</p> + +<p>Clement was wroth enough already, but the reflection that he was +summoned away on important business, and had no boots to go in, was the +last straw. He was quite beside himself.</p> + +<p>"Go," cried he to the Wallach, "and tell your master, whoever he may be, +that he is as near to me as I am to him; if he wants to speak to me, let +him take the trouble to come hither. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"I understand, Dumni Macska" (Mister Pussy), returned the Wallach, +involuntarily using in his fright the nickname secretly given by the +Roumanian peasants to the Patrol-officer when he is making his rounds; +and with that he slouched out of the room.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Clement, with a great muscular effort, had climbed on to his +high-backed chair again, and placed two huge folios upright on the floor +in front of him, so that his coming visitor might not see that he was +bare-footed.</p> + +<p>In a short time strident, energetic footsteps were audible outside, and +Clement the Clerk, peeping out of the window, perceived to his no small +confusion that his visitor was none other than his Excellency, Count +Ladislaus Csaky, accompanied by two gold-laced heydukes.</p> + +<p>"Clement," thought the clerk to himself, "now's the time to assert your +dignity! No doubt his lordship is a great man and a high; but, on the +other hand, he is in the Prince's bad books, while you, my boy, are in +high favour at court, and a public officer to boot." So he hid his feet +behind his books, stuck his pen between his lips, and when Csaky came in +did not so much as offer him a seat.</p> + +<p>Csaky seemed much put out by this reception.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>"You have a very high opinion of your official dignity," said he to +Clement.</p> + +<p>"I am what I am thanks to the favour of the Prince," returned Clement +haughtily, crossing his arms with an air of importance.</p> + +<p>"I too have come hither by the Prince's command. His Highness has just +entrusted me with a very delicate errand, in which I need your help; but +the affair must be managed with the utmost secrecy, and that was why I +wanted you to come out to me."</p> + +<p>At this explanation Clement the Clerk forgot his dignity altogether.</p> + +<p>"I beg you a thousand pardons," stammered he in great confusion, and +with meekly-bowed head. "I did not know—pray be seated!" As however +there was no other chair in the room but that on which he sat, he sprang +down from it to give place to the Count, thereby revealing the fact that +his feet were minus their legitimate coverings, at which Csaky laughed +till his jaws ached.</p> + +<p>"Why, deuce take it, Mr. Officer, is it from a feeling of excessive +reverence that you take off your boots like the Turks do?"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon! I have not taken them off; but my servant ran away +with them while I slept, and that was the sole reason why I was forced +to send your lordship that churlish message, which I hope your lordship +has long since forgotten."</p> + +<p>At this Csaky's mirth became downright uproarious.</p> + +<p>"Well, if that is all, we will soon find a remedy," said he to Clement; +and calling the heydukes, bade them fetch at once his own parade boots +out of his carriage.</p> + +<p>Clement instantly began to raise objections: he could not think of it; +the honour was too great. But when his eyes fell upon the boots, they +took his fancy immediately, for they were made of the finest green +morocco, sewn with gold thread, trimmed on both sides with galloon, and +provided with enamelled spurs.</p> + +<p>"Quick! on with them!" cried Csaky to the Patrol-officer; "for you must +set out upon your journey without delay."</p> + +<p>So Clement the Clerk seized one of the boots by the tags, and after +bestowing a smile upon it, proceeded to pull it on. But this of itself +was no light labour, for Csaky wore very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> small, tight-fitting, +gentlemanlike boots, whereas Clement the Clerk was a very large-footed +animal; so that it was not till after three desperate struggles had +completely exhausted him that he managed to get one foot half-way down +the leg of the first boot, and all the time he made such grimaces that +Ladislaus Csaky had to put his head out of the window to hide his +merriment. When he got as far as the heel, he stuck fast again, so that +he had to seize the straps with both hands and stamp his way down, +hopping round the room all the while, with his body forming a complete +curve, and groaning aloud at every forward shove; so that by the time he +had wriggled into one boot, the eyes of the poor poet were almost +starting from their sockets, and the sweat trickled from his cheeks.</p> + +<p>Similar difficulties awaited the good Patrol-officer with the second +foot; but after working with six-horse power to force his foot into a +receptacle never intended for it, he was at last able, with the +ruddiness of satisfaction on his cheeks, to take a smiling survey of his +gorgeous, tight-fitting boots, which harmonized so delightfully with the +other dusty, greasy, ink-bespattered constituent parts of his dress.</p> + +<p>"Now, mark what I say!" said Csaky, sitting down with a lordly air on +the solitary chair, whilst the clerk, standing before him, raised first +one and then the other leg aloft, at the same time uttering a peculiar +hissing sound, and turning a livid green and blue in his agony, for the +boots had now begun to play havoc with his corns. "When did you last go +your rounds?"</p> + +<p>"I really don't know."</p> + +<p>"But you ought to know. Why don't you make a note of it? The Prince +wishes you to go your rounds at once, and you must look particularly +sharp after all the places between Toroczko, Banfi-Hunyad, and +Bonczhida. Besides the usual questions, you must ask the people whether +they have seen any foreign wild beast in the surrounding woods."</p> + +<p>"Foreign wild beast?" mechanically repeated the wretched Patrol-officer.</p> + +<p>"And if at any place they tell you they have seen such beast, you must +go personally into the districts indicated, and search till you come +upon its track."</p> + +<p>"I cry your Excellency's pardon! but what manner of beast may it be?" +asked the student timidly.</p> + +<p>"Come, come! don't be afraid! It is neither a seven-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>headed dragon nor +yet a minotaur, but only a young panther."</p> + +<p>"A panther!" stammered the terrified Clement.</p> + +<p>"You are not expected to catch it," said Csaky cheerily. "You have only +to discover its hiding-place and let me know."</p> + +<p>"And if this wild beast—whose existence indeed in Transylvania I very +much doubt—should stray into the territory of Denis Banfi," asked +Clement, "what am I to do then?"</p> + +<p>"You must go after it."</p> + +<p>"I cry your Excellency's pardon, but his property is a <i>liber +baronatus</i>, where my jurisdiction ceases."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so stupid, Clement," said Csaky. "I never said you were to +repair thither <i>vi et armis</i>: the whole expedition must remain a secret. +You have only to follow the wild beast's track. We have it, on the best +authority, that the beast is somewhere in the neighbourhood, and we +trust to your dexterity to spot it. The rest will be done by more +enterprising people than yourself."</p> + +<p>Clement regarded the mission as altogether odd and risky, but he dared +not raise any objection, so he simply bowed low and sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"Above all things we must have dexterity, expedition, and secrecy. Keep +that constantly in mind."</p> + +<p>"I will go at once," cried Clement desperately; "but first I must borrow +me a horse from some one or other, for I should not like to utterly ruin +these beautiful boots by walking in them."</p> + +<p>"That too would be a little too slow for our purpose. But don't bother +your head about a horse. One of my heydukes will give you his, which you +must mount at once. Remember however to give him oats occasionally, as I +don't want him to come back all skin and bone."</p> + +<p>Clement the Clerk, quite confounded by so much graciousness, hastily +shouldered his shabby knapsack, fastened his rusty sword to his side, +and after placing in his knapsack a roll of parchment, a goose-quill, +and a wooden ink-horn, declared himself ready to depart.</p> + +<p>"You have a very light equipment," remarked Csaky.</p> + +<p>"<i>Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu</i>," +returned the philosopher with a classical flourish, and when the reins +had been placed in his hands, he prepared to mount. But the aristocratic +charger, as soon as he perceived<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> that the clerk had one foot in the +stirrups, began to plunge, buck, and run round and round, thereby +compelling the aspiring poet to hop along with him on one foot, till the +laughing heydukes seized the horse by the bridle, and helped the +unpractised horseman into the saddle. As however he had very long legs, +and the wicked heydukes had lashed the stirrups up very high, he was +obliged to squat upon the horse as if it had been a camel.</p> + +<p>Ladislaus Csaky bawled after him once more not to forget what he had +told him, whereupon the poet, quite unintentionally, gave his horse the +spur, and dashed madly off at full tilt over stock and stone. Mantle, +sabre, and knapsack flew about the ears of the unfortunate horseman, who +held on to his saddle with both hands in mortal agony, to the intense +delight of the whole population of Toroczko, who were sitting in groups +outside their houses on their <i>beard-driers</i>, as the benches used to be +called in those days.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>First of all the Patrol-officer took the road to Abrudbánya. Formerly, +while he still had a servant, Clement used to leave all the pioneering +to him; but now he was forced to find his way from village to village +himself, with the occasional assistance of the country magistrates.</p> + +<p>He had just quitted the narrow mountain path, and was ambling slowly +over a dilapidated bridge, which spanned a brawling stream, when he +perceived in the thicket a group of dirty-looking men crouching over a +large fire. At first he took them for gipsies, but, approaching nearer, +was horrified to discover that they were Tartars, who had dismounted +from their horses, and were sitting round an ox which they had roasted +whole.</p> + +<p>To turn back was scarcely advisable; but the road he was following went +straight past the diners. Clement was in a fix; but he determined at +last to put a bold face on the matter, so he trotted by the gaping group +with affected nonchalance, pretending to be intent all the while on +calculating the exact number of acorns on the wayside oaks, and merely +raised his hat to the Tartars with a brief "<i>Salem aleikum!</i>" when he +came close up to them, as if he only then perceived them for the first +time, passing quickly on without looking once behind him.</p> + +<p>So far all was well, but at that very moment two of the Tartars sprang +up from the fire and called to the rider to stop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> Clement, perceiving +that they were both unarmed, argued therefrom that they had no murderous +designs upon him, and therefore halted and awaited them.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the two dog-headed figures come up to him, one on each +side, than they caught hold of his legs and displayed no less an +intention than to rob him of his beautiful boots.</p> + +<p>"Would you? ye sons of Belial!" cried Clement, beside himself with rage, +and grasping the hilt of his sword he tried to pull it from its leather +sheath, in order to cut off the ears of his assailants forthwith. But +the good blade, which had not quitted its sheath for ten years, had +grown so rusty that Clement, despite all his endeavours, could not pluck +it forth, and in the meantime the two Tartars pulled the wriggling rider +hither and thither by the legs, naturally without succeeding in +loosening the tight-fitting boots in the least. The Tartars reviled +Clement, and Clement reviled the Tartars: their language was perfectly +horrible.</p> + +<p>The noise brought the Aga to the spot—an ourang-outang-like object +whose mahogany features were framed by a white beard—and he asked in a +hoarse whisper what was the matter.</p> + +<p>Clement the Clerk at once drew his credentials from the pocket of his +mente, and shook it in the Aga's face—he was too wrathful to +speak—while the Tartars, pointing with frantic gestures at the boots, +jabbered something to the Aga.</p> + +<p>"Who art thou, O bow-legged unbeliever!" asked the Aga, "that thou dost +presume to wear on thy lowest extremities, on thy mud-wading feet, +forsooth! the sacred colour of the Prophet, that radiant green which the +faithful may only behold on the arches of their mosques and on the +turban of the Padishah? Thou shalt be burned alive, thou godless +Giaour!"</p> + +<p>"I am the Patrol-officer of his Highness Prince Michael Apafi!" +declaimed the ex-student, with terrified pathos. "My person is sacred +and inviolable. I am he who provides the host of the sublime Sultan with +meat and drink; I proclaim and collect the taxes, so let me go, for I am +a very important personage."</p> + +<p>This mode of defence pleased the Tartars. The Aga exchanged glances with +his subalterns, as much as to say—"This is the very man we want!" and +addressed him again in a more friendly tone.</p> + +<p>"Dost thou indeed collect the taxes? Look now! my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> master, Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein, has sent me hither to notify to the people a fresh +imposition. Allah hath clearly brought us together. Thou wilt act +discreetly then by proclaiming the new tax at once. It is no more than +thy duty."</p> + +<p>"I'll do so gladly," replied Clement, who made as if he were going.</p> + +<p>"Stay, my son," said the Aga, beckoning to him. "Thou dost not even know +yet the amount of the new tax. 'Tis a mere trifle, and only imposed by +way of showing that we are the masters here. 'Tis only a farthing per +head. That's not much, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all!" assented Clement, eager to be off.</p> + +<p>"Not so fast! not so fast!" remonstrated the Aga. "I shall not be best +pleased if thou dost disobey my orders; but as I know that thou dost not +regard it as perjury to break promises made to us, I'll tell off one of +my brave fellows here to accompany thee from village to village, and +take care that thou dost duly proclaim the new tax whithersoever thou +goest."</p> + +<p>"It is well, gracious sir," said Clement meekly, with the mental +reservation of ridding himself of the brave fellow at the very next +village.</p> + +<p>"Mount your horse, Zülfikar," cried the Aga to one of his servants.</p> + +<p>The person addressed was an evil-looking fellow with a malignant squint. +Although just as dirty as the others, it was clear from his physiognomy +that he was not made of the same stuff, and if we condescended to bestow +any thought at all upon such low people, it might even occur to us that +we had seen him somewhere else before.</p> + +<p>"As for thee," said the Aga to Clement, who was anxious to be off at any +price, "take off thy boots as soon as thou gettest home, and if ever I +meet thee with them on again, thou shalt receive from me five hundred +strokes on the soles of thy feet, which thou wilt have cause to +recollect even on thy wedding-day."</p> + +<p>Clement the Clerk said "Yes" to everything, rejoiced that he had got off +at last, and trotted off towards Abrudbánya. His Tartar escort rode +faithfully by his side.</p> + +<p>From time to time the Patrol-officer cast a sidelong glance at his +companion, only quickly to avert his eyes again, for as the Tartar +squinted horribly, Clement could never exactly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> make out which way he +was looking. Clement was thinking all the while how easily he would give +the Tartar the slip, smiled to himself at the thought, winked with both +eyes, and nodded his head with a self-satisfied air.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Patrol-officer, don't fancy you will circumvent me as you go your +rounds!" exclaimed the Tartar suddenly, in the purest Hungarian, as if +he could read Clement's thought from his face.</p> + +<p>Clement was so aghast that he almost fell from his horse. How the deuce +could the fellow snap up his very thoughts, and speak Hungarian despite +his Tartardom?</p> + +<p>"Don't bother your head about me any more," continued the Turk calmly. +"I am an Hungarian renegade who was once in the service of Emerich +Balassa. I had a hand in the capture and poisoning of Corsar Beg, and +when the Hungarians began to persecute me on that account, I turned +Turk. If the Prophet befriend me, I may yet rise to be Kapudan Pasha. +Pray don't imagine you can bamboozle a wily old fox like me."</p> + +<p>Clement, completely disconcerted, could only scratch his head, proceeded +with his escort from village to village, and after accomplishing his +regular official business, proclaimed the fresh imposition of a farthing +per head, which the people everywhere received most favourably, in many +cases even paying it down at once to his Tartar comrade.</p> + +<p>But no one knew anything about the panther. Indeed, but for the respect +inspired by his gallooned green boots, the Patrol-officer would have +been laughed out of countenance.</p> + +<p>Only one little Wallachian village up in the mountains, called Marisel, +was yet to be visited, and beyond that place began the domains of Baron +Banfi, where the jurisdiction of the Patrol-officer terminated.</p> + +<p>Thither also the renegade followed him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_II" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">SANGE MOARTE.</span><a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></h2> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> <i>Sange moarte.</i> Dead blood (Roumanian).</p></div> + +<p>The Patrol-officer and his companion had already been travelling for +half the day across the Batrina moor on their way to Marisel. Clement +kept on asking every living soul he met where the village was, and +always received the same answer—"Further on!"</p> + +<p>From time to time they met a Wallachian peasant reviling the team of +sluggish oxen spanned to his huge wagon, and vainly endeavouring to make +them quicken their pace; then there were ponds to be waded, where +half-naked gipsy bands, in picturesque rags, were washing gold-dust out +of the sand, and stared at the Tartar as if he were a wild beast; here +and there, in the mossy hollow of a wayside tree, stood an icon, the +pale, weather-worn gilding of which being all that remained of its once +gorgeous colouring; in the worm-eaten niche stood the <i>pomana</i>,<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> a +pitcher of pure spring water which the traditional piety of the young +Wallachian maidens had placed there for the refreshment of thirsty +travellers.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> <i>Pomana</i>, or <i>pomena</i>. An alms, a voluntary free succour. +The etymology is obscure. Some opine that it is a corruption of <i>per</i> +and <i>manus</i>.</p></div> + +<p>The road now went up hill and down dale; for the greater part of the way +they had to lead their horses. All around stood the ever-changing +wilderness; lofty, perpendicular beeches, terebinthine oaks, with an +occasional dark-green pine. At last they reached a point where the road +divided. One branch of it ran right down into the valley, the other +wound obliquely up to the summit of a bald bleak hill, from which a +projecting rock hung down so precipitately that it seemed ready to fall +every moment.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>"Well, whither shall we turn now?" asked Clement, hesitating. "I have +never come so far as this before."</p> + +<p>"Let us follow the road," returned Zülfikar; "none but a fool would risk +his neck up that steep cliff."</p> + +<p>Clement looked about him in great perplexity, and suddenly perceived a +man sitting on the rock which so precipitately overhung the path. It was +a young Wallach with a pale face and long, flowing curls; his sheep-skin +jacket was open at the breast, his cap lay beside him on the ground. +There he sat in a reverie, on the very edge of the lofty rock, with his +feet dangling in empty space, his stony countenance resting on his +hands, and his eyes staring glassily into the remote distance.</p> + +<p>"Hi! you up there! <i>ungye méra ista via?</i>"<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> cried Clement, in a +jargon which was half Latin and half Wallachian.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <i>Ungye méra ista via?</i> "Whither goes this road?" The first +two words are Roumanian.</p></div> + +<p>The Wallach did not appear to hear the question; he remained in just the +same position, blankly staring and immovable.</p> + +<p>"He is either deaf or dead," said Zülfikar, after they had both bawled +themselves hoarse at him in vain. "The best thing we can do is to follow +the beaten track," and off they set at a trot. The Wallach did not so +much as look after them.</p> + +<p>Evening was drawing nigh, and the road to Marisel seemed absolutely +endless. It went out of one valley into another, without passing a +single human habitation, and the huge boulders and fierce mountain +torrents, which they came upon at frequent intervals, made it almost +impassable. At last they perceived, somewhere in the wood, a fire +burning, and a monotonous chant struck upon their ears. On approaching +nearer, they saw an immense pyre, made of the trunks of trees, burning +in a forest glade, and shaded by oaks, the foliage of which was singed +red by the long tongues of flame which flickered up to their very +summits.</p> + +<p>Not far from the pyre, a band of Wallachs were dancing with savage +gesticulations, striking the ground at the same time with their massive +clubs. Their twirling feet seemed to be writing mystic characters in the +soil, and all the while they brandished their arms and howled forth +metrical curses as if they were exorcising some evil spirit.</p> + +<p>Around the men twined a wreath of young girls, holding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> one another by +the hand, and twirling in a contrary direction. These young and charming +forms, with their black, plaited tresses interwoven with pearls and +ribbons; their flowered petticoats, cambric smocks, and broad, striped +aprons; their tinkling gold spangles, or strings of silver coins about +their round necks and their tiny, high-heeled shoes, formed a pleasant +contrast to the wild, ferocious figures of the men, with their high +sheepskin hats perched upon their shaggy, unkempt hair, their sunburnt, +naked necks, greasy <i>köduröns</i>,<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> broad brass buckles, and large +ox-hide sandals.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> <i>Ködurön.</i> A rough, fur jacket.</p></div> + +<p>Both dance and song were peculiar. The girls, all hand in hand, flew +round the men, singing a plaintive, dreamy sort of dirge, while the men +stamped fiercely on the ground and uttered an intermittent wail. The +fire blazing beside them cast a red glare, intermingled with dark +flitting shadows, on the wild group. Some distance behind, on the stump +of a tree, sat an old bagpiper with his pipes under his arm. The +tortured goatskin's monotonous discord blended with the savage harmony +of the song.</p> + +<p>When the pyre had nearly burnt itself out, the dancers suddenly +dispersed, dragged forward a female effigy stuffed with straw and +clothed in rags, placed it on two poles, and with loud cries of "Marcze +Záre! Marcze Záre!"<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> held it over the fire; then, exclaiming in +chorus—"Burn to ashes, accursed Wednesday-evening witch!" they threw it +into the glowing embers. The girls then danced round the fire with cries +of joy till the witch was burned, when the men, with a wild yell, rushed +among the embers and trod them out.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> <i>Marcze Záre</i> = Wednesday witch, hags possessing peculiar +power on Wednesday evenings, according to the Wallachs.</p></div> + +<p>"Who are ye, and what are you doing here?" cried Clement the Clerk to +the Wallachs, who hitherto had not taken the slightest notice of him.</p> + +<p>"We are they of Marisel who have burned Marcze Záre," answered the +peasants unanimously, with the grave faces of men who had just done +something uncommonly wise.</p> + +<p>"Well, be quick about it, and then come back to the village, for I am +here by command of the Prince, my master, to put the usual questions to +you."</p> + +<p>"And I," put in Zülfikar, "am here by command of the mighty Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein to levy a new tax."</p> + +<p>The Wallachs watched the Patrol-officer till he was quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> out of sight +without uttering a word; but they shook their fists after him and +exclaimed—"May Marcze Záre take him!"</p> + +<p>Then, with the bagpiper in front, they formed into a long procession and +marched, loudly singing, down towards the distant village.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>It was a long, straggling, Wallachian hamlet at which the patrollers now +arrived—one house exactly like another; low clay huts with lofty roofs +and projecting eaves, surrounded by quick-set hedges, the doors so low +that one had to stoop in order to enter. Every house consisted of a +single room, in which the whole family, parents and children, goats and +poultry, lived together. At the entrance of the village stood a gigantic +triumphal arch made of marble blocks; over the principal portal was the +torso of a Minerva; on the façade were battle-pieces in high relief, and +beneath them this Latin inscription in large Roman letters—"This town +has been built by the unconquerable Trajan as a memorial of his +triumph!" And behind the arch a heap of wretched clay huts!</p> + +<p>On the capitol of a fallen Corinthian column, in front of the village +dead-house, sits the <i>prefika</i>, the oldest old woman in the place, +lamenting with meretricious tears over the dead young maiden who lies +within. On the side of a grass-grown hill close at hand one sees a round +stone building, raised once upon a time, no doubt, in memory of some +Roman hero; but the Wallachian population has turned it into a church, +covered it with a pointed roof, and daubed the interior with hideous +paintings.</p> + +<p>The Patrol-officer called the people together into the church, which was +the only public building in the place. The crowd stood around him, the +old men leaning on their crutches. The blood-red rays of sunset pierced +through the round window-panes, giving a peculiar appearance to the +interior of the venerable edifice, whose walls were daubed all over with +figures of grotesque saints, whom the monstrous fancy of the rustic +artist had provided with scarlet mantles and spurred jack-boots. Amongst +so many pictures of the marvellous, that well-known allegory which +represents Death as a skeleton, dragging off with him a king, a beggar, +and a priest, was not lacking, and scattered among the icons were a few +bandy-legged fiends derisively stretching out their tongues at poor +damned sinners whom they clutched tightly by the hair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>Behind the iconastasis the priest and the Patrol-officer took their +stand, surrounded by gilded icons and consecrated candles. When Clement +had read his credentials to the people, he called to the village elder, +a tall man with large projecting teeth, to come in front of the +altar-rail, and addressed the following questions to him—</p> + +<p>"Are there amongst you any sorcerers and magicians who can summon the +devil to their aid?"</p> + +<p>The crowd received this question with an awful whisper, and after a long +pause the magistrate replied—</p> + +<p>"There was one last year, your worship, a godless villain with blotches +on his neck and body, which were patches stitched on to him by the +devil, for even when we singed them with red-hot irons he did not feel +it. We sent him to the Sanhedrim at Fehervár, where, failing to stand +the water test, he was burnt alive."</p> + +<p>"Are there among you any hags or vampires which injure other people's +children, make knots in men's bowels, ride through the air, colour milk +red, hatch serpents' eggs, or seek for grasses which can make them +invisible, and open barred and bolted doors?"</p> + +<p>This question called forth a hundred different answers. Every one tried +to communicate his own personal experiences to the interrogator; the +younger women in particular pressed upon the Patrol-officer with furious +importunity.</p> + +<p>"One at a time, please," cried Clement, with great dignity. "Let the +magistrate say what he knows."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there used to be an old witch here, worshipful sir," said the +village elder obsequiously. "We called her Dainitsa.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> She had long +molested mankind, for her eyes were red. She could, when she chose, +bring down such storms upon the village that the wind would take off the +roofs of the houses. Once she brought a hailstorm upon us, and God's +thunderbolt smote the village in three places. Thereupon the women here +grew furious, seized her, and threw her into the pond. But even there +the witch railed upon them and said—'Take heed! You will live to beg of +me the water which you now give me to drink!' Then the women fished up +her dead body from the bottom of the pond, thrust a dart through her +heart, buried her in the valley, and rolled a large stone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> over her +grave. But the very next year the witch's curse came upon us. Throughout +the summer not a drop of rain fell in our district. Everything was +withered up, and our cattle carried off by the murrain. Dainitsa had +drunk up all the rain and dew. So we went to her grave, bored a large +hole therein, and filled the grave with water till it ran over, shouting +at the same time—'Drink thy fill, accursed hag! but lap not up all our +rain and dew!' And so at last the great drought came to an end."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> <i>Dainitsa.</i> She who sings in a low voice, <i>i. e.</i> she who +mutters spells. From Roumanian <i>daina</i>, which is derived from the +Hungarian <i>danolni</i>, to sing.</p></div> + +<p>The priest gravely vouched for the accuracy of this narrative, and +Clement made a note of it in his parchment roll.</p> + +<p>Now came the third question.</p> + +<p>"Are there any among you who dare to smoke tobacco, either by cutting up +the leaves into small fragments and putting them in his pipe, or by +roasting them on the fire and inhaling the ascending steam?"</p> + +<p>"There are none, sir!" returned the elder. "We do not know that dish."</p> + +<p>"And do not try to, for whoever is caught in the act will, in accordance +with the law of the land, have the stem of his pipe thrust through his +nose, and be led in that guise all round the market-place."</p> + +<p>The fourth question was this—</p> + +<p>"Do any of the peasants wear cloth coats, marten-skin kalpags, or +morocco shoes?"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" cried the village elder. "Why, our poverty is such that we +never look beyond sheep-skin jackets and leather sandals. What do we +want with coloured cloth and morocco shoes?"</p> + +<p>"Nor must you, for the Estates of the Realm have forbidden the peasantry +to wear the clothes of the gentry."</p> + +<p>Now came the fifth question.</p> + +<p>"Which of you not only acted contrary to the decree of the Diet, that +the peasants should extirpate the sparrows, but even mocked the officers +charged to collect sparrows' heads?"</p> + +<p>The magistrate humbly approached the Patrol-officer.</p> + +<p>"Believe me, worshipful sir; by reason of the great drought and the bad +season, the sparrows have all departed from our district. Tell his +Highness that we have been unable to lay our hands upon a single one all +through the summer."</p> + +<p>"That's a lie!" cried Clement the Clerk fiercely.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>"I speak the truth," persisted the magistrate, seizing Clement by the +hand, and dexterously insinuating two silver marias into his clenched +fist.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is not impossible," said the Patrol-officer, somewhat +mollified.</p> + +<p>Last of all came the question—</p> + +<p>"Has any among you seen foreign beasts of prey, or other strange +animals, straying about in these regions?"</p> + +<p>"Of a truth, sir, we have seen lots of them."</p> + +<p>"And what sort of beasts were they?" asked Clement, with joyful +curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Well, dog-headed Tartars!"</p> + +<p>"You fool, I don't mean that sort of beast. I want to know whether any +one, in strolling through these woods, has come upon a four-footed beast +of prey, a creature with a spotted skin? You know very well you have +left no hole or corner unexplored, for even now you are hunting after +the hidden treasures of Decebalus."</p> + +<p>The magistrate shook his head incredulously, glanced at the crowd, and +said, with a shrug of his shoulders—</p> + +<p>"We have seen no such wondrous beast; but haply Sange Moarte has seen +it, for he in his mad moods roams incessantly through woods and +hollows."</p> + +<p>"And where then is this Sange Moarte? You must call him hither."</p> + +<p>"Alas! sir, he is difficult to catch; he seldom comes to the village. +But perhaps his mother is here."</p> + +<p>"Here she is! here she is!" cried several peasants at once, pushing +forward an old woman with sunken cheeks, whose head was wrapped round in +a white cloth.</p> + +<p>"What mad name is this you have given to your son?" cried the +Patrol-officer; "whoever heard of calling a man 'Dead blood'!"</p> + +<p>"'Twas not I, sir, who gave him this name," said the old Wallachian +woman with a broken voice. "The villagers call him so because he is +never seen to laugh or speak to any one, or answer when he is spoken to. +He did not even weep for his father when he died; nor has he ever +visited the girls in the spinning-rooms, but wanders about incessantly +in the woods."</p> + +<p>"All right, all right, old lady; but that has nothing to do with me."</p> + +<p>"I know it, sir, I know that it does not concern you; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> I must tell +you that the pretty Floriza, the belle of the village, was in love with +my son. There was not a lovelier maiden in all Wallachia. Such black +eyes, such locks reaching down to her feet, such rosy cheeks, such a +slim waist were not to be found anywhere else. And then she was so +diligent, and she loved my son so dearly! In her chest she had sixteen +embroidered chemises which she herself had woven and spun, and round her +neck she wore a string of two hundred silver and twenty gold pieces. +Sange Moarte never so much as looked at the girl. Vainly did Floriza +make him posies, he would not put them in his hat; vainly did she give +him kerchiefs, he would not wear them in his breast. Whenever he passed +by, the girl would sing such beautiful songs as she sat by the hearth; +but Sange Moarte for all that did not linger at her threshold, and yet +she loved him so dearly. Often she said to him, when they met together +in the lane—'Thou dost never come to see me; perchance thou wouldst not +even look at me if I were dead?' Sange Moarte replied—'Then indeed I +would look at thee.'—'Then I will soon die,' said the maiden +sorrowfully. 'And then will I also visit thee,' said Sange Moarte, and +went his way. Does all this weary you, good sir? I shall soon have done. +Pretty Floriza lies dead. Her heart broke for grief. There she lies on +her bier; the funereal <i>armindenu</i><a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> stands in front of the house. +When Sange Moarte sees it he will know that Floriza is dead, and will +come forth from the woods to look upon his dead sweetheart, as he +promised her, for he always keeps his word. Then you can speak with +him."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> <i>Armindenu.</i> A green branch placed in front of houses on +the 1st of May and at funerals. Compare Latin <i>Alimentale</i>.</p></div> + +<p>"Very well, old lady," said Clement, who had suddenly become serious, +and was almost angry to find something very like poetry among rude +peasants, who had certainly never read Horace's <i>Ars Poetica</i>. "You must +watch for the lad's return, and let me know."</p> + +<p>"'Twere better you went yourself, sir," said the old woman, "for I +scarcely think he will answer a single question put to him by any one +else."</p> + +<p>"Be it so! Lead me thither!" cried the Patrol-officer; and the whole +assembly proceeded towards the mortuary, which stood at the extreme end +of the village.</p> + +<p>This end of Marisel is so far distant from the church, that night had +fallen before the crowd had reached it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>The moon came from behind the mountains. Round about the house stood +pine trees, through the sombre foliage of which the evening star +shimmered faintly. In the distance sounded the melancholy notes of some +pastoral flute. In front of the little white house the hired mourner was +sobbing loudly. The wind agitated the crape-hung branches of the +<i>armindenu</i>. Inside the house lay the corpse of the beautiful young +maiden awaiting her truant lover. The moonbeams fell upon her pale +countenance.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The mob surrounded the mortuary, crept stealthily on tip-toe into the +courtyard, peeped through the window, and whispered—</p> + +<p>"Look! There he is! there he is!"</p> + +<p>The Patrol-officer, the priest, the magistrate, and Sange Moarte's +mother entered the room.</p> + +<p>Right across the threshold lay the girl's father dead drunk; he got so +tipsy yesterday from sheer sorrow that he will need all to-day and all +to-morrow to sleep it off. In the middle of the room stood the pine-wood +coffin, bedaubed with glaring roses fresh from the brush of a rural +artist; within it lay the girl (she was only sixteen), her beautiful +forehead encircled by a funereal wreath. A wax taper had been placed in +one of her hands, in the other she held a small coin. At the head of the +coffin burned two handsome wax candles stuck into a jar containing +gingerbreads; at the foot of the coffin, in a gaudily-painted, +high-backed chair, staring blankly at the girl's face, sat Sange Moarte.</p> + +<p>The pious superstition of the priest and the magistrate would not let +them cross the threshold; but Clement stepped up to the lad, and +immediately recognized in him the man on the rock who would not tell him +the way.</p> + +<p>"Hi, young man! So you are he who has the bad habit of never replying to +people when they address you, eh?"</p> + +<p>The person thus addressed justified the question by not answering it.</p> + +<p>"Now hearken and answer my question. I am the Patrol-officer. D'ye +hear?"</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte remained speechless, with his eyes fixed all the time on +Floriza. He was as motionless as the corpse itself, and scarcely seemed +to breathe. His good old mother tenderly took him by the hand and called +him by his proper name.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>"Jova, my son! answer the gentleman. Look at me, I am your mother."</p> + +<p>"In the name of my master, the Prince, I command you to answer me!" +cried the Patrol-officer, raising his voice.</p> + +<p>The Wallach still remained silent.</p> + +<p>"I ask you if, in the course of your sylvan ramblings, you have seen any +sort of foreign wild beast, to wit a yellow, speckled monster, which the +learned call a panther?"</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte gave a start, as if suddenly aroused out of a deep sleep. +His glassy eyes flashed and sparkled as he looked at his interrogator, a +feverish scarlet flushed his cheeks, and he stammered tremulously—</p> + +<p>"I have seen it, seen it, seen it."</p> + +<p>And with that he covered his eyes, so as not to look upon the dead body.</p> + +<p>"Where have you seen it?" asked the Patrol-officer.</p> + +<p>"Far, far away," whispered the Wallach; then he became dumb once more +and buried his forehead in his hands.</p> + +<p>"Name the place. Where is it?"</p> + +<p>The Wallach looked timidly around. A cold shudder ran through him, and +with fearful, rolling eyes he whispered to the Patrol-officer—</p> + +<p>"In the Gradina Dracului."<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> <i>Gradina Dracului</i>. Garden of the Devil (Roumanian).</p></div> + +<p>The priest and the magistrate immediately crossed themselves thrice, and +the latter gazed devoutly on a mural St. Peter, as if to invoke his help +on this occasion.</p> + +<p>"You seem to me a plucky lad, to venture to approach the Devil's +Garden," said the Patrol-officer. "Will you guide me thither?"</p> + +<p>The Wallach nodded, with a joyful look.</p> + +<p>"In the name of St. Michael and all the Archangels I implore you, sir, +not to go," interrupted the priest. "Of all who have visited the Devil's +Garden, not one has ever been known to come back. A truly devout person +would turn his back upon it. It is only this man's sinfulness that has +led him thither."</p> + +<p>Clement scratched his head.</p> + +<p>"I don't go there for the pleasure of the thing," said he. "Not that I +fear the name of the place, but because I object to scaling mountains. +In my official capacity, however, I have no choice."</p> + +<p>"Then at least stick a consecrated willow-twig in your cap,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> urged the +anxious pastor, "or take with you a picture of St. Michael, that the +devil may not come near you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my brothers; but it would be much more to the point if you +provided me with a pair of sandals, for I cannot go clambering over the +mountains in these spurred boots. I regret too that your amulets are +thrown away upon me, for I am a Unitarian."</p> + +<p>The priest crossed himself once more, and said with a sigh—</p> + +<p>"I fancied you were orthodox, because you were so zealous about the hags +and witches."</p> + +<p>"I only did that officially. Send my Turk hither."</p> + +<p>As he went out the priest murmured to himself—</p> + +<p>"Birds of a feather! A nice pair of heretics!"</p> + +<p>"Comrade Zülfikar," cried Clement to the Turk, as he tied on his +sandals, "you can find the rest of your way by yourself, for I must take +a side spring into the mountains."</p> + +<p>"If you spring, I will spring too," replied the distrustful renegade. +"Whithersoever you go, thither will I go also."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, there is nothing to be pocketed on the road that I am +about to take, except perhaps the devil, for man has never set his foot +there."</p> + +<p>"What do I care! My orders are to go along with you till I return to the +point from whence I started."</p> + +<p>"So much the better, then; I shall have the pleasure of your company. +But pray help me to draw my sword, so that I may be able to defend +myself in case of need."</p> + +<p>"So you carry a sword which requires two men to draw it! Well, let's +look at it," and with that the two men planted their legs one against +the other, grasped the sword with both hands, and tugged away at it for +a long time, till at last it flew out of its sheath so suddenly that +Clement the Clerk nearly fell sprawling.</p> + +<p>Clement then called for a jar of honey, rubbed the rusty blade all over +with the viscid stuff, and stuck it back into its sheath.</p> + +<p>"And now let us be off, young man," said he to the Wallach, who hastily +took his cap and a small axe from the ground, and went out without once +looking behind him.</p> + +<p>His mother seized him by the hand—</p> + +<p>"Wilt thou not first kiss thy dead sweetheart?"</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte did not even turn his head round, but drew his hand out of +his mother's and went with the two strange men towards the darkening +woods.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>All that night the adventurers were traversing a deep dell. Gigantic +perpendicular rocks rose up on each side of them, only above their heads +shimmered a narrow streak of starry sky.</p> + +<p>Towards morning they found themselves among the Carpathian Alps.</p> + +<p>It was a dazzling spectacle. In the distance diamond-peaked crystal +mountains covered with white snow-fields, striped here and there by +dark-green lines of pine forest. Close beside them is a basalt rock, +consisting of angular columns as large as towers, standing side by side +like the pipes of a gigantic organ, with their summits crowned by +wreaths of round trees. A white, semi-transparent cloud floats across +this rock, hiding all but its summit and its base. From time to time a +lightning-flash darts from this cloud, and the reverberated echoes of +the thunder-peals resound like long-drawn-out chords from this majestic +organ of Nature's own workmanship.</p> + +<p>Over yonder, a mountain chasm suddenly comes into view, where two rocky +fragments, whose rugged surfaces seem to exactly correspond, stand face +to face. Through this rocky chasm, many hundred feet below, rushes a +stray branch of the icy Szamos, disappearing among the thick oak woods +which cover its banks.</p> + +<p>In one place the rocks form a flight of steps, steps never fashioned for +the foot of man, for each of them is as high as a tower; in another +place the rocky boulders are piled one on the top of the other, in such +a way that if the undermost block were disturbed, the whole of the +enormous mass would fall into a differently-shaped group.</p> + +<p>Everything indicates that here the dominion of the world and of man +ends. Not a single human habitation is visible from the dizzy heights; +even vegetation is rare and scanty; on every side bald rocks and gaping +chasms, among which the mountain torrents toss and tumble; only the wild +goat is there to be seen leaping from crag to crag.</p> + +<p>"Which is the way now?" asked Clement of his guide, casting an anxious +glance at his surroundings, in which the possibility of hopelessly +losing oneself was more than probable.</p> + +<p>"Trust only to me," said Sange Moarte, and he guided them through the +uninhabited wilderness with the unerring precision of instinct. In +places where it seemed impossible to go a step further, he always found +a path. He recollected every root or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> shrub which could serve as a +support to clamberers down the mountain side; every fallen tree which +spanned the abyss, every narrow ledge which could only be passed by +bending forward over the precipice and holding fast behind to the +fissures of the rock, was familiar to him; in short he seemed quite at +home in this interminable labyrinth.</p> + +<p>"We are near," he cried suddenly, after clambering up a steep rocky wall +and surveying the horizon; then he held out his hands to his companions +and drew them up after him.</p> + +<p>A new spectacle then presented itself.</p> + +<p>The opposite slope of the rocky ridge which they had just ascended was +perfectly smooth and shiny, and encompassed the whole region in a +semi-circle, forming a sort of basin, at the very bottom of which—and +it was six hundred feet deep—lay a little mountain lake, the dark-green +waters of which perpetually boiled and bubbled, though not a breath of +air was stirring: perhaps it felt the ebb and flow of ocean. The +opposite side of the rocky basin was formed by a gigantic chain of +mountains, fringed only at its base by fir trees, and at the point where +the two mountain systems met, a small stream in a deep bed trickled into +the little mountain lake. The masses of ice which had fallen into the +valley formed a crystal vault over this stream.</p> + +<p>"Whither are we going?" asked Clement, aghast.</p> + +<p>"To the source of that brook," returned Sange Moarte. "It has dug its +way through the ice, and by following its course we shall come to the +place we seek."</p> + +<p>"But how are we to get there? This rocky slope is as smooth as a mirror; +if a man begins sliding down it there is no stopping till he plumps into +the lake."</p> + +<p>"You have only to take care. We must lie on our backs and glide down +sideways. Here and there you will find a tuft of Alpine roses to cling +on to. But you've nothing to fear if you slide down barefoot. Do as I +do."</p> + +<p>A hair-bristling pastime truly!</p> + +<p>Taking off their sandals they held on by their hands and feet to the +smooth, shelving, stony wall, at the foot of which lay the +darkly-gleaming, fathomless lake.</p> + +<p>They had already slided half-way down the incline, when from the +mountain opposite arose a muffled, mysterious roar. They felt the cliff +on which they lay quaking beneath them.</p> + +<p>"Ha! stay where you are," cried Sange Moarte, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> back at them. "An +avalanche from the mountain opposite is approaching."</p> + +<p>And at the very next moment they could see a white ball descending from +the immeasurably distant heights, plunging with mad haste down the +mountain slope, tearing away with it whole masses of rock and uprooted +pines, swelling every moment into a more tremendous bulk, and dashing +down the decline in leaps of two hundred feet at a time into the valley +below.</p> + +<p>"Heaven defend us!" cried the terrified Clement, clutching his guide +with one hand and holding on to the rock with the other. "It is coming +this way, and will overwhelm us all."</p> + +<p>"Keep still," cried Sange Moarte, seeing them inclined to clamber up +again and thus expose themselves to the danger of a fall. "The avalanche +will take the direction of that block of rock standing in its way, and +will there either stop or disperse."</p> + +<p>And indeed they could see that the snow-slip, now grown colossal, was +making for a projecting point of rock which was dwarf-like in +comparison. Every other sound was lost in the thunder of the avalanche.</p> + +<p>And now the huge snow-ball bounded upon the obstructive rock, and fell +prone across it with a terrific thud, which shook the whole mountain to +its very base.</p> + +<p>For a moment the whole region was enveloped in a cloud of steam-like +snow-spray, and after the final crash the thunder of the avalanche +ceased. But immediately afterwards it began again with a frightful +crackling; the weight of the snowy mass had uprooted the obstructing +rock, and whirling down with it in dizzy rotations, plunged +perpendicularly into the lake below.</p> + +<p>The agitated lake, lashed out of its basin on both sides, rose in an +enormous wave, three hundred feet high, up to the very spot where the +bold climbers were clinging to the naked rock, and after poising in the +air for a second, like a huge transparent green column, broke and fell +back into the lake, which very slowly subsided.</p> + +<p>"Now we will go on our way," said Sange Moarte. "The rock is moist now, +and the descent will be all the easier."</p> + +<p>After the lapse of half-an-hour, the wanderers found themselves at the +mouth of a stream.</p> + +<p>A wondrous corridor lay open before them. The brook sprang from a hot +spring, which, after racing down the deep valleys, buried itself beneath +icebergs and snowdrifts. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> the hot water had bored a passage through +the ice, constantly melting the frozen mass around it with its warm +stream, so that only the thick outermost layer remained, which, +constantly renewed by the cold air without, and as constantly dissolved +by the hot stream within, grew into a sort of transparent crystal arcade +with huge dependent glittering stalactites above the stream.</p> + +<p>Through this channel Sange Moarte now led his companions.</p> + +<p>Clement could not but call to mind the fabulous fairy palace where +spellbound mortals only see the light of day through transparent waters.</p> + +<p>Wading thus in the bed of the stream, they reached a point where the +bright arcade began to grow dark. Its transparent roof grew thicker and +thicker, passing gradually into an ever deeper blue, till at last it +became quite black, and the murmuring of the stream was the wanderers' +only guide. As they advanced, with their hose tucked up to their knees, +into the ever-darkening darkness, they felt the water getting hotter and +hotter, till at last they heard a hissing sound and saw once more the +daylight streaming through the rocky chasm, through which the brook +rushed down into its subterraneous cave.</p> + +<p>Here, with the help of some dangling shrubs, they scaled the hillside to +avoid the onslaught of the boiling spring, and after a brief exertion +found themselves on the other side of the mountain, in a deep, well-like +valley.</p> + +<p>This is the <i>Gradina Dracului</i>.</p> + +<p>It is a perfectly round dell, shut in on every side by a wall of +perpendicular cliffs more than six hundred feet high. Whoever wishes to +look down from above, must approach the edge of the rock lying on his +stomach, and even then must have a good head not to be seized by +vertigo. At the bottom of this dell the flowers have an amaranthine +bloom. When the snow is falling thickly all around, and the ice is +sparkling everywhere else, here in the depths of the hardest winter may +then be seen those dark-green flowers with broad, indented petals, and +those little round-leaved trees the like of which are to be met with +nowhere else in this district. Just at this time too the leather-leaved +<i>Nymphaea</i> opens its light-yellow calices here; the grass, both summer +and winter, is of the brightest green; and the wild laurel climbs high +up into the crevices of the rocks, and casts its red berries down into +the valley, when Nature all around is cold and dead.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>Throughout the winter this dell is clothed with the rarest flowers. +Therefore the Wallach calls it "the Devil's Garden," and fears to +approach it.</p> + +<p>But the whole wonder has quite a natural cause.</p> + +<p>In the depth of the dell a hot mineral spring bubbles up in a cave, +never coming to light, but soaking all the circumambient soil through +and through, and it is because these warm waters possess a flora of +their own that these unknown shrubs and flowers are for ever blooming in +the neighbourhood of the vivifying element. The whole thing is a +splendid open-air orangery in the midst of snowstorms and icebergs.</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte beckoned to his comrades to follow him. A feverish +impatience possessed him, and when he had advanced a few steps into the +cavern, he pointed with trembling hand at a dark recess, in which an +iron door was visible.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" cried Clement, clutching his sabre. "Does anybody dwell +here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," rejoined Sange Moarte (his blood at that moment seemed to be on +fire, and the veins of his temples stood out like cords). "There, in +that water-basin, she is wont to bathe. There have I watched her, from +day to day, without ever daring to approach her," stammered he, in a +whisper that was scarcely audible, but full of the most passionate +ardour.</p> + +<p>"Who?" asked the Patrol-officer, much amazed.</p> + +<p>"Oh! the fairy," stammered the Wallach, with trembling lips, and he +buried his glowing head in his hands.</p> + +<p>"What's all this about?" said Clement, turning to Zülfikar. "'Tis not a +fairy that I'm after but a panther!"</p> + +<p>"Pst! a key is turning in the lock," cried Zülfikar. "Away back into the +dark cave!"</p> + +<p>The two men had to drag Sange Moarte away from the iron gate, which a +moment afterwards opened noiselessly, and a girlish form stepped forth +leading a panther by a golden chain.</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte was right in calling her a fairy.</p> + +<p>Before them stood a dazzlingly beautiful woman in oriental <i>déshabillé</i>. +Her locks were enveloped in a red fez, the long gold tassels of which +fell across her white turban over her pale face; her ivory-smooth +shoulders gleamed forth from the sleeves of her short, +ermine-embroidered kaftan; her eyes sparkled in the dark; every movement +of her lithe body was serpentine, fascinating, maddening.</p> + +<p>The three men held their breath. The girl passed by without observing +them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>"Ah, that is she," whispered Zülfikar in amazement, when she had gone.</p> + +<p>"Who? Do you know her?" asked Clement.</p> + +<p>"It is Azrael, Corsar Beg's former favourite."</p> + +<p>"What a place for her to be in!"</p> + +<p>"Pst! she'll hear us."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the girl had reached the basin where the subterraneous waters +poured their mingled flood, sat down on a stone bench, and commenced to +unwind her turban. Her jasper-black hair fell down over her shoulders.</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte's hot panting resounded through the darkness.</p> + +<p>The panther lay quietly at his mistress's feet, his shrewd head resting +on his front paws.</p> + +<p>Azrael now removed her bright Persian shawl from her slim waist, and +next prepared to slip off her light kaftan, taking a couple of steps +towards a projecting rocky buttress which hid her from the eyes of the +watchers.</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte was about to rush after her. It was all the two men could +do to hold him back.</p> + +<p>"Are you mad?" growled Zülfikar in his ear. "Would you betray us with +your infernal curiosity?"</p> + +<p>"The poor devil is in love with the girl!" whispered Clement.</p> + +<p>At that moment there came the sound of a splash, as of some one leaping +into the water and playing with its waves.</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte frantically tore himself loose from his companions' arms, +and with a furious yell rushed towards the basin.</p> + +<p>At this yell Azrael, in all the maddening witchery of her charms, sprang +out of her watery mirror, looked at the presumptuous wretch with +flashing eyes, and cried savagely—</p> + +<p>"Oglan! Seize him!"</p> + +<p>The panther had hitherto remained motionless; but the moment his +mistress called him to battle, he sprang up with a roar, seized the +young Wallach, and threw him with a single jerk to the ground.</p> + +<p>Sange Moarte did not think of defending himself against the savage +beast, but stretched out his hands imploringly towards the odalisk; +drank in her loveliness with thirsty looks; writhed closer to her, and, +weeping and groaning, fell down at her feet, while Azrael stared wildly +at him, threw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> her mantle hastily around her, and watched her darling +panther tear to pieces the youth who had never loved any one in his life +in order that he might love her to the death.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and help him!" cried Clement, mad with horror, and drawing his +sword.</p> + +<p>"Softly! Don't be a fool! Besides, we have something better to do. The +iron gate remains open; let us creep in while the lady is otherwise +engaged, and find out what there is here; that will interest our masters +very much, especially mine."</p> + +<p>With that the two men crept through the iron door, groped their way +along the narrow passage which seemed to have been cut out of the naked +rock, and discovered at the end of it, by the light of a lamp hanging +from the roof, several small doors to the right and left. They opened +one door after the other, but only found empty rooms with no further +outlets. At length a glimpse of the outer world reached them through one +of the windows. They hastened forward in that direction, and coming upon +a second iron door passed through it, and found themselves in a large +courtyard surrounded by high walls, one of which they scaled, and beheld +from the top of it the valley of the cold Szamos stretching far and wide +before their eyes. Soon after they discovered a footpath which led them +from the wall to the woodlands below, and off they set running, and +never drew breath till they had safely reached the bottom. It was only +then that the two men ventured to stop and look each other in the face. +Clement fancied he still heard the wildly musical voice of the fair +demoniac, the roaring of the panther, and the death-shrieks of the young +Wallach.</p> + +<p>"We may as well go on now," remarked Zülfikar, "for to return the way we +came without a guide is impossible, and we are bound to come out +somewhere."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, they soon came upon two wood-cutters, who were fastening +their raft to the river's bank.</p> + +<p>"What is that castle yonder?" asked Clement.</p> + +<p>The men stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Where? What castle?"</p> + +<p>Clement looked behind to show it to them, and behold! nowhere was +anything to be seen with the remotest resemblance to a castle, nothing +but rocks, each the counterpart of the other. The Wallachs laughed +aloud.</p> + +<p>"It were better not to mention it to them," said Zülfikar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> "They look +as if they do not know what is going on under their very noses. But +we'll mark the place. Nothing but rocks are visible from the outside, +the brushwood conceals the very opening through which we got into the +open air."</p> + +<p>So the wanderers inquired their way; returned to Marisel, where they +naturally did not stop to be questioned about Sange Moarte, but mounted +their steeds and rode off.</p> + +<p>Zülfikar wanted Clement to go on with him to Banfi-Hunyad. The +Patrol-officer, however, declined to trespass on Denis Banfi's domains, +so the Turk went on alone to levy the new tax, though Clement prophesied +that he would receive more kicks than halfpence.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Clement duly informed Ladislaus Csaky of what he had seen, and received +one hundred ducats for his discovery, to say nothing of the green +top-boots.</p> + +<p>Zülfikar fared much more strangely.</p> + +<p>On arriving at Grosswardein, he gave the tribute-money to Ali Pasha, +informing him at the same time of all that he had found out about +Azrael.</p> + +<p>This girl, when only thirteen years old, had been carried off from Ali +Pasha's harem by Corsar Beg. Ali, her original possessor, had promised a +reward of two hundred ducats to whomsoever should discover the +whereabouts of his favourite.</p> + +<p>Zülfikar on quitting the Pasha had in his hand a purse of two hundred +ducats. This came to the ears of the Aga, Zülfikar's superior officer, +who straightway picked a quarrel with the renegade, and condemned him to +one hundred strokes of the bastinado, unless he preferred redeeming each +stroke with a ducat.</p> + +<p>"I won't do that," returned Zülfikar, "but I'll hand over to you the +gift which Denis Banfi sent to Ali Pasha when I told him he was to pay +the new tax. Give it to the Pasha, and I'll wager he'll so reward you +that you'll remember it all your life."</p> + +<p>The Aga greedily caught at the offer, took charge of the +carefully-sealed casket which Zülfikar himself ought to have handed to +the Pasha, and presented it to his Excellency with the following +respectful salutation—</p> + +<p>"Behold, most gracious Pasha, I bring you that princely gift which Lord +Denis Banfi has sent you in lieu of taxes."</p> + +<p>Ali Pasha seized the casket, cut through the silken cords, broke the +seal, and took off the cover, when lo! a horrible,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> shrivelled pig's +tail fell out of it on to his kaftan—the direst, most abominable +outrage which can befall a Mussulman!</p> + +<p>Ali Pasha in his fury sprang almost up to the ceiling, and throwing his +turban to the ground, immediately ordered that the Aga, who stood rooted +to the spot with horror, should be impaled outside the camp.</p> + +<p>But Zülfikar went gaily on his way with the two hundred ducats in his +pocket.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_III" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.</span></h2> + + +<p>There was a great commotion at Bonczhida Castle. The lord of the manor, +Denis Banfi, was expected home from Ebesfalva. The castle gates (on the +midmost panel of which blazed a huge family coat-of-arms between the +claws of two golden lions rampant) were overshadowed by green branches +and bravely-coloured banners; in the street, the school-children, in +gala costume, were drawn up in a long line headed by their teachers; +further back, with bright Sunday faces, stood the vassals; and, +marshalled in front of the hillock which marked the bounds, the mounted +gentry of the County of Klausenburg, some eight hundred horsemen or so, +all of them stalwart, sturdy forms, armed with morning stars and good +broad-swords, had come out to meet their leader, the Marshal of the +Nobility.</p> + +<p>On the bastions are to be seen Banfi's own soldiers, consisting of about +six hundred mail-clad heroes, with long Turkish muskets and Scythian +helmets. On the walls facing the Szamos six mortars are placed. A few +yards further off a coal fire is burning, at which the cannoneers are +heating the ends of their long iron staves so as to use them as +linstocks.</p> + +<p>At every gate, at every buttressed window, stand a couple of pages in +crimson dolmans and tightly-fitting, cornflower-blue hose, richly +garnished with silver-embroidered lace.</p> + +<p>At the window of the highest donjon sits the castellan, ready to +proclaim the arrival of his liege lord by the blast of a horn. Over his +head the wind is wrestling with a gigantic purple banner, the huge +dependent gold tassels of which it can only raise with difficulty.</p> + +<p>Out of all the windows, inquisitive domestics and expectant knights and +dames peep forth, or rather, out of all the windows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> but three, which +are altogether bare of festal groups, for there nothing is to be seen +but fragrant jasmines and quivering mimosas in snow-white porcelain +vases, behind which one can dimly distinguish a pale and delicate form +leaning dreamily on the embroidered window-cushions. This is Denis +Banfi's wife.</p> + +<p>It might have been ten o'clock in the morning when the castellan, +perceiving clouds of dust on the highway, announced the approach of his +Excellency with a blast of his horn, whereupon the roar of the mortars +scared every one into his proper place; the priests and teachers +reviewed their pupils, the officers marshalled their troops, and the +trumpeters on the ramparts played the latest marches.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards the Lord-Lieutenant arrived, escorted by the banderia +of half-a-dozen counties. Before and behind him trotted squadrons of +horsemen, whose arms and caparisons gleamed with all the colours of the +rainbow. There were to be seen horses of every race and every +hue—Arabian stallions, Transylvanian full-bloods, little Wallachian +ponies, slim English racers, and light-footed Barbary steeds. There were +horses with flesh-coloured manes, jewelled bits, variegated reins, and +embroidered schabracks. There were all the weapons with which the art of +war was then familiar—the slender Damascus blade, the toothed +morning-star, the curved <i>csakany</i>,<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> the serpentine crease, and those +long, gorgeously-fashioned fire-arms which could seldom be discharged +more than once; here and there, too, was visible a specimen of those +three-edged, six feet long Turkish scimitars, which were just then +coming into vogue.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> <i>Csakany.</i> An ancient weapon, half hook, half battle-axe, +of Tartar origin.</p></div> + +<p>Each squadron brought its banner, on which the arms of the respective +counties were gaily embroidered, and sturdy standard-bearers bore them +aloft on their saddle-bows. In front of the martial bands rode their +captain, George Veer, a muscular man of about forty, with a +grey-speckled beard, stiffly waxed moustaches, and sun-burnt face. A +stately heron's plume, fastened by an opal agraffe, waved from his +marten-embroidered kalpag; his gorgeous bearskin was held together in +front by a gold chain as broad as a man's hand, set with gems. +Chrysolites as large as filberts gleamed, instead of eyes, in the bear's +head looking over his shoulder; his body was encased in a coat of silver +mail, sewn with gold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> stars, through which his dark-blue dolman was +visible. His crooked scimitar with its golden hilt well became the hand +which held it, and from his saddle-bows peeped forth the menacing +muzzles of a pair of pistols, the mechanism of which was about as simple +as the mechanism of a modern steam-engine.</p> + +<p>The Lord-Lieutenant himself sat in an open carriage, drawn by five black +horses, with rose-coloured, gilded harness; both panels of the carriage +door bore the Banfi crest, gorgeously painted on a gold ground; behind +stood two hussars with silver-embroidered mantles and white heron +plumes.</p> + +<p>With haughty dignity Denis Banfi sits back on the velvet cushions of his +coach; all the pomp and splendour which surrounds him suits him well. +His glossy locks leave bare his high forehead, which, together with his +fine, frank eyes, bespeaks infinite good-nature, while the bold curve of +the bushy eyebrows and the peculiar cut of the thin lips indicate a +violent temper. The whole face seems to be constantly under the +influence of these hostile emotions. At one moment it is mild, smiling, +rosy; at another savage, grim, and suffused by a dark purple flush. The +traces of noble enthusiasm and of unbridled fury are impressed upon his +face side by side just as they are in his heart.</p> + +<p>The martial squadrons present arms; the school-children chant hymns; the +vassals wave their hats; the music resounds from the battlements; the +clergymen deliver addresses; and all the guests flutter their kerchiefs +and their kalpags at him from the windows, and Banfi receives all these +demonstrations of respect with his usual majestic dignity and +condescension, with the air of a man who feels that all this sort of +thing belongs to him of right. Meanwhile his eyes glance up at those +three windows concealed behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering +mimosas, and his face grows graver and sadder when he perceives no one +behind them.</p> + +<p>From the window of another room there looks down a very tall old man in +a long clerical surtout with small buttons. Since losing his teeth his +chin has moved closer to his nose, which makes his nose look a long way +from his eyes. He seems to be taking no part whatever in the general +rejoicings. By his side leans a lady in mourning, wearing a black velvet +<i>haube</i>; rage and contempt are unmistakably visible in her countenance. +Near these two stands Master Stephen Nalaczi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> with folded arms, +surveying the whole procession with a droll, sarcastic smile.</p> + +<p>"Just look, your Reverence," says the lady in widow's weeds to the +grey-headed clergyman. "Did ever prince lord it with the pomp and +splendour of this simple Baron? I have been at coronations, +installations, inaugurations, triumphal ovations, but never, never have +I seen anything like the homage paid to this private man. If they +rendered it to a prince it might pass, but who, forsooth, is this Denis +Banfi? Why, a simple nobleman—just such a one as we are, except that he +is full of arrogance and pretence. All this princely splendour does not +belong to him <i>de jure</i>. Oh! well do I know the meaning of the word +<i>jus</i>; for I have all my life been before the courts against greater +lords than he."</p> + +<p>"How my reverend colleagues press forward to kiss his hand," murmured +Martin Kuncz (for that was the clergyman's name). "Ei! ei! Look now, at +my learned colleague Gabriel Csekalusi, how radiantly he hastens forward +to assist his Excellency out of his carriage!—and he is right, for +Denis Banfi is the visible providence of the Calvinists. But for poor, +vagabond Unitarian ministers like me, the place behind the door is good +enough."</p> + +<p>"But just look! just look! how the worthy <i>armalists</i><a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> raise him on +high and carry him on their shoulders to the door. 'Tis well they do not +set him on a litter like a sovereign prince—as if, forsooth, feeding +them at his table made him their lord and master!"</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> <i>Armalists.</i> Noblemen who could show <i>literae armales</i> in +support of their nobility.</p></div> + +<p>"Nay, but, Madame Saint Pauli, pray let the good people do him homage if +they like," interrupted Nalaczi with a sneer. "Wait a bit. The greeting +I have in reserve for him will add salt to the soup! It will bring my +lord to his senses, I warrant you!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Banfi is mounting the steps, and the crowd, pouring after him, +forces its way in at the same time, and carries the Baron on its +shoulders right up to the daïs at the end of the room. The clergymen +squeeze their way through the surging mob into their proper places, not +without being mercilessly mauled on the way; while George Veer, with +respect-inspiring elbows, carves a road for himself through the mob up +to the very seat of the Lord-Lieutenant. The room is already crammed +full with as many of the gentry as it will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> hold, the remainder block +the corridors. The vassals remain, perforce, in the courtyard, and hear +nothing of what is going on but the hubbub which reaches them through +the windows, and seems to delight them amazingly.</p> + +<p>"My noble friends," said Banfi, when there was at last something like +silence, and his eye had taken in every one present, "it was not without +good cause that I invited you to come to my house <i>armed</i>. You know +right well from the past history of our poor fatherland, how much our +nation has suffered because our Princes, either discontented with what +they already had, or unable to guard it, have perpetually called in +foreign troops. The historians have only recorded what has redounded to +the glory of our Princes—victories, battles, conquests; but they have +forgotten to mention that in the year 1617, in consequence of the +horrors of war, not a single child was born in the whole of +Transylvania, for famine and flight killed them all in their mothers' +wombs. But we know it, for we have suffered with and for the people. +Now, thank heaven! we are masters in our own homes. By the Peace of +Saint Gothard, the Turkish Sultan and the German Emperor have covenanted +not to march their troops through Transylvania, and by thus holding each +other in check, have vouchsafed us a little breathing-space, inasmuch as +we are no longer bound to take up arms for either of them, but can set +about healing our country's ancient wounds. A golden age is dawning upon +us. The whole world is fighting and bleeding, we alone possess peace; in +our land alone is the Magyar independent and his own master. True, ours +is not a very large realm, but at any rate 'tis our own. We may be a +very little people, but we recognize no greater anywhere. Now there are +persons who would destroy this golden age. There are persons who do not +care what an imprudently begun war may cost the country, provided their +ambition, provided their greed is gratified thereby; and if he whom they +attack chances to win, <i>they</i> do not perish with their country, but +simply turn their coats, go over to the victors, and share the spoil +with them."</p> + +<p>"That is a slander!" cried some one from the background. Banfi at once +recognized Nalaczi's voice.</p> + +<p>The murmuring crowd turned towards the corner whence the interruption +had proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Let him alone, my friends," cried Banfi; "some satellite of Master +Michael Teleki's, I suppose. Let him, too, have the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> benefit of freedom +of speech! I, however, who am well acquainted with the upright +sentiments of the Estates of the Realm, can tell you positively, that +this thoughtless step can never be taken in a constitutional way, and if +they attempt by secret intrigues or sudden violence to bring about what +cannot be done by fair means, then too they will find me at my post. I +wish to defend the realm <i>and</i> the Prince, but if it must be so, I will +defend the realm against the Prince himself. Now listen to what the +caballers have devised, so as to ensnare us once more in those meshes +from which we have hardly withdrawn our heads. Despite the peace, Turks +at one time, Tartars at another, cross our frontier, blackmail the +people, burn the towns, in short, force their friendship upon us in +every imaginable way. Eight days ago they ravaged Segesvar, and before +that they made incursions into the Csika district. That, however, is not +<i>my</i> business. It concerns the Governors of the Saxon land and the +Captains of the Szeklers. It is true that the mouth of his Excellency, +Ali Pasha, has long been watering for my domains, only he has not quite +made up his mind how to pick a quarrel with me. A few days ago, however, +his roving bands captured the Prince's Patrol-officer, and proclaimed +through his mouth to the whole district a fresh tax of a farthing per +head. The poor peasantry rejoiced at getting off so cheaply, and +hastened to pay the tax without first asking me whether it was lawfully +levied. The artful Turk gained a double end thereby: in the first place, +he got the people to recognize the tax, and in the second place, he +found out exactly how many taxable persons resided in the district, and +immediately afterwards levied upon them the fearful blackmail of two +Hungarian florins per head!"</p> + +<p>The multitude howled with rage.</p> + +<p>"I immediately forbade all further payments. This tax does not indeed +fall upon our shoulders, for we are nobles; but it is just because we +are the peasants' masters that we are bound to save them from being +fleeced, and defend them at all hazards. The only answer I sent to his +Turkish Excellency was a pig's tail, and if he comes to levy the tax in +person, I swear by the living God, I'll give him a buffet he won't +forget as long as he lives."</p> + +<p>"We will cut him to pieces!" roared the mob, striking their scabbards, +and waving their morning-stars in the air.</p> + +<p>"And now, my faithful friends, return to your tents. My<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> seneschals will +provide for your entertainment. If we must fight, I'll tell you when."</p> + +<p>The excited nobility then withdrew with rattling weapons and boisterous +approbation; only a few petitioners remained behind.</p> + +<p>The Klausenburg professors invited their patron to the public +examinations. Banfi promised to come, and distribute rewards to the best +scholars.</p> + +<p>As they retired Banfi beckoned to the remaining suppliants to approach +one by one. The first he turned to was Master Martin Kuncz, the Bishop +of the Klausenburg Unitarians.</p> + +<p>"How can I serve your Reverence?"</p> + +<p>"I have a complaint to make, gracious sir," returned Kuncz, with a bow +and a scrape. "The Klausenburg town-council has forcibly removed the +market booths belonging to the Unitarian Church. I beg you to help us to +regain possession."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry I cannot help your Reverence," returned Banfi, +whistling through his teeth and buttoning up his coat. "That is a +constitutional affair, and concerns the Prince. The land indeed is mine, +but the cause belongs to his Highness's Courts."</p> + +<p>"The Prince gave me exactly the same answer, only reversed—'The cause +indeed belongs to my Courts, but the land is Banfi's, go to him.'"</p> + +<p>Banfi laughed good-humouredly, but Kuncz did not seem to regard the +matter as particularly entertaining.</p> + +<p>"Then, although my right is as clear as noon-day, I can turn nowhither?"</p> + +<p>Banfi shrugged his shoulders and stroked his beard.</p> + +<p>"Because your Reverence has right on your side, it by no means follows +that you will get justice."</p> + +<p>"Then his case is exactly the same as mine," interrupted some one, and +Banfi, looking round, beheld Dame Saint Pauli making towards him.</p> + +<p>The magnate pretended he did not see the widow, and nonchalantly +adjusted the gold and diamond chain of his mente; but the widow thrust +herself right under his nose, and thus began—</p> + +<p>"Vainly do you condescend to ignore me, my lord. I am here though +uninvited."</p> + +<p>Banfi looked at her without saying a word, half amused and half +annoyed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>"Or perhaps your lordship has forgotten my name?" continued the lady +sharply, smiting her breast and exclaiming—"I am the noble, +high-born——"</p> + +<p>"And worshipful," added Banfi, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Dowager Lady George Saint Pauli," continued the lady imperturbably, +"every scion of whose family is as noble and illustrious as the Prince +himself. I too have never forgotten what name I bear, but have proudly +confessed it before princes and generals—yea, even before greater men +than your Excellency."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, your ladyship. All that I know by heart, for I have heard +it from your own lips twenty times before. Come, tell me quickly what +you want."</p> + +<p>"Quickly, forsooth! Perchance your Excellency imagines that it is +possible to tell in a few words why the suit between us has lasted four +years already, and why the suit between the town of Klausenburg and my +family has been pending for three-and-sixty years?"</p> + +<p>"To cut matters short, I will tell you the whole story myself," +interrupted Banfi; "your ladyship can make your comment afterwards. Your +ladyship possesses a ruinous den in the midst of the Klausenburg +market-place——"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon—a manor-house just as good as your lordship's own +castle."</p> + +<p>"This shanty has for a long time disfigured the market-place. In vain +has the town-council negotiated with and sued your family in order to +have the house pulled down."</p> + +<p>"And we have not surrendered it. Quite right. A genuine nobleman never +sells property which he has purchased with his blood. It belongs to me, +and within my four walls neither Prince nor Diet has the right to +command. No, nor you either, my Lord-General."</p> + +<p>"My good lady, I never asked you to give me this venerable ruin for +nothing. I offered you ten thousand florins for it. For that sum I could +have bought up the whole gipsy quarter, though there is no such +dilapidated house there as yours."</p> + +<p>"Keep your money, sir. I'll not give up my house. My +seven-and-seventieth ancestor bought it two centuries ago, and therefore +I'll not barter it away. In it I was born; in it died my father and my +mother. If it offends your Excellency's eye to look down upon my +beggarly house from your splendid mansion, pray look the other way; but +at least do not grudge me the poor pleasure of spending the remainder of +my days in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> the room where my poor husband breathed his last sigh; and +let me tell you, sir, that I wouldn't take a palace in exchange for it."</p> + +<p>The widow's sobs at the recollection of her deceased husband here +enabled Banfi to put a word in, and he replied with passionate +vehemence—</p> + +<p>"What I have said shall be done. The masons are already on their way to +pull down the house. The ten thousand florins you can have on +application to the town-council."</p> + +<p>"I don't want them. Throw them to your dogs," cried the woman furiously. +"Am I a peasant that you turn me thus out of my property? Whoever dares +to step across my threshold shall be driven out with a broomstick like a +cur. I have appealed to the Prince and to the Estates, and there you +have the sealed mandate in which the Diet forbids all and sundry to +invade my property. I'll nail it upon the gate,—'tis engrossed in a +good, legible hand,—and then I'll see who dares to break into my +house."</p> + +<p>"And I tell you that to-morrow your house will be razed to the ground, +even if it be surrounded by armalists, and then the Diet may build you a +new one if it is so disposed."</p> + +<p>And with that Banfi turned away in high dudgeon, and almost ran into +Nalaczi.</p> + +<p>The two men greeted each other with constrained politeness; and while +Dame Saint Pauli went off cursing, Nalaczi, after drawing a long breath, +began in the sweetest of tones—</p> + +<p>"His Highness the Prince desires to bring a very unpleasant matter to +the notice of your Excellency."</p> + +<p>"I am all attention."</p> + +<p>"The Turk has thrice this year extorted gifts from us under various +pretexts."</p> + +<p>"You ought not to give them to him."</p> + +<p>"If we don't he will force upon us as Prince the refugee Nicholas +Zolyomi, now under the protection of the Porte."</p> + +<p>"Let him come! We will kick him out again."</p> + +<p>"Bravely spoken! But the Prince, weary of so much discord, and somewhat +fearful besides, has resolved to amnesty Zolyomi and allow him to +return."</p> + +<p>"In God's name let him do so then!"</p> + +<p>"Right, quite right! But your lordship knows very well that Zolyomi's +estates are now in your lordship's possession; the Prince therefore +finds himself compelled to request your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> lordship to surrender these +estates to the returning Zolyomi, if it would not greatly inconvenience +your lordship."</p> + +<p>Nalaczi had been a little too curt in the delivery of his message, +although he had done his best to sugar it with respectful epithets.</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Banfi, stepping back, "do you really suppose that I will +give up these estates? The Diet gave them to me with the onerous +condition of equipping at my own cost twelve regiments for the defence +of the country. That onerous condition I have faithfully fulfilled, and +now you fancy that I shall surrender the estates merely because there is +to be one fool the more in the land? Preposterous!"</p> + +<p>"But if the Prince wishes it!"</p> + +<p>"I'll not give them up whoever wishes it."</p> + +<p>"And that is the answer I'm to take back?"</p> + +<p>"You'll please take back these two words," said Banfi, emphasizing each +syllable—"I won't!"</p> + +<p>"Your most obedient servant," said Nalaczi, and with an ironical +obeisance he turned upon his heel.</p> + +<p>"Servus," replied Banfi contemptuously, as if he were throwing a bone to +a dog; and then he looked out into the corridor, and seeing some of his +vassals waiting there, hat in hand, roughly asked them what they wanted.</p> + +<p>When the good people saw that their liege lord was in a villainous +humour, they held back, but the steward pushed them in.</p> + +<p>"We ought to have brought the tithes," began the oldest peasant, with a +whining voice and downcast eyes, "but it was impossible."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because we have nothing, my lord. There has been no rain; the crops are +a failure; we have not even seed enough to sow our fields. In the +village the people are living on chance roots and fungus, and when these +are all gone, God only knows what will become of us."</p> + +<p>"Look now," cried Banfi, "another visitation of God, and yet we must +needs have a war to boot! Steward, open at once the demesne granaries, +and distribute seed to the vassals, that they may sow their fields. See +too that the poor people have enough corn to feed them through the +winter."</p> + +<p>The poor peasants would have kissed Banfi's hands, but he would not +suffer it. A tear stood in his eye.</p> + +<p>"For what am I your lord if not to lighten your burdens<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> when you are in +need? My stewards will carry out my orders. If my own storehouses fall +short, you shall have corn for ready money from Moldavia."</p> + +<p>And with that he retired into the adjoining chamber.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Banfi's wife with a beating heart heard his familiar footsteps drawing +nearer.</p> + +<p>There she sits behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering mimosas, +herself as pale as the jasmine flowers and as tremulous as the mimosas.</p> + +<p>Around her is nothing but pomp and splendour. On the walls hang cut +Venetian mirrors in gold frames, portraits of kings and princes, the +handsomest among which is John Kemeny's, painted while he still held +with the Turk and wore close-cropped hair and a long beard in the +Turkish fashion, so much affected by the magnates of those days.</p> + +<p>On one side of the room is a wardrobe with countless drawers, a +masterpiece of art, inlaid with tortoise-shell, lapis lazuli, and +mother-of-pearl. In the centre of the room stands a variegated table +surmounted by silver candelabra of exquisite workmanship. Within glass +almeries the family treasures are piled up in gorgeous heaps: pocals +encrusted with gems; gold-enamelled stags, whose heads can be screwed +off and on; large silver filigree flower-baskets, each scarcely heavier +than a crown-piece, filled with posies of precious stones of every hue, +artistically disposed in dazzling groups, with here and there a +butterfly poising above them with delicate wings of transparent gold.</p> + +<p>Heavy red silk curtains fall down from the lofty windows to the floor, +and the window-sills are covered with the most gorgeous of the flowers +then in vogue, among which the shining, velvety, amaranthine +cock's-comb, the liriodendron with its dependent, tulip-like calices, +and the mesembryanthemum, with its leaves like dewy pearls, are the most +conspicuous.</p> + +<p>Of all these flowers only the trembling mimosa and the pale jasmine +harmonized with the lady of the house, whose face contrasted so sadly +with the gorgeous abode. The tiny, delicate figure seemed almost lost in +the lofty arched room. She could not even have moved one of the massive +morocco arm-chairs, nor have raised one of the huge heavy candlesticks, +nor have pulled aside one of the heavy atlas curtains. Everything around +her seemed to remind her of her feebleness. Every sound made her +nervous, and when the well-known<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> footsteps reached her threshold, all +the blood rushed to her face. She was about to leap up when the door +opened, and immediately she was as pale again as ever, and incapable of +rising from her seat.</p> + +<p>Banfi hastened, with expansive joy, towards his trembling wife, who +could not for the moment find words to welcome him, seized both her +delicate hands, and looked kindly into her dreamy eyes.</p> + +<p>"So pretty and yet so sad!"</p> + +<p>The lady tried to smile.</p> + +<p>"And how sad that smile is too," remarked Banfi, gently embracing the +sylph-like lady.</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi laid her head on her husband's bosom, threw her arms round +his neck, drew down his face to hers, and kissed it.</p> + +<p>"That kiss too, how sad it is!"</p> + +<p>She turned away to conceal her tears.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Banfi, stroking his wife's forehead. "What is the +matter? Why are you so pale? What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"What do I want?" returned Lady Banfi, turning her streaming eyes up to +her husband and sighing deeply. Then she dried her eyes, placed her arm +in his, and as if to give another turn to the conversation, led him to +her flowers.</p> + +<p>"Look at that passion-flower, how withered it is, and yet it is planted +in a porcelain vase, and I water it every day with distilled water. But +once I forgot to draw up the blinds, and now look how the poor thing has +faded. It wants nothing—but sunshine."</p> + +<p>"It seems," said Banfi, in a low voice, "as if we were to address each +other in the language of flowers."</p> + +<p>"What do I want?" repeated Lady Banfi, and leaning on her husband's +neck, she burst forth sobbing. "I want my sunshine—your love."</p> + +<p>Banfi at that moment looked very uncomfortable. He sat down on his +wife's chair, took her gently upon his knee, and asked her in a kind +tone, but not without a touch of temper too—</p> + +<p>"Am I less able to show you my love now than heretofore?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!—not less! But I see you so seldom. You have been away these +six weeks, and you would not let me come to you."</p> + +<p>"What, my lady! Have you suddenly become ambitious?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> Would you shine at +the court of the Prince? Believe me, your court is much more splendid +than his, and not nearly so dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know right well that I neither seek splendour nor fear danger. +When our only shelter was a rude simple hut, nay, sometimes only a tent, +half buried in the snow, then you made me lay my head upon your breast, +covered me with your mantle, and I was so happy, oh, so happy. +Oftentimes the din of battle, the thunder of the cannon, scared sleep +from our eyes, and yet I was so happy. You mounted your horse, I sank +down in prayer; and when you came back blood- and dust-stained, but +unhurt, how happy I was then!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven grant that you may always be so. But there is a happiness which +stands higher than domestic happiness; there are matters where the mere +sight of you would be to me a hindrance and an obstacle."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what they are—sweet adventures, lovely women, eh?" returned +Lady Banfi, with an arch voice but perhaps a bleeding heart.</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken," cried Banfi, springing hastily from his chair. "I +was alluding to the commonweal," and he began to pace angrily up and +down the room.</p> + +<p>When a husband takes umbrage at such jests, it is a sure sign that he +feels himself hit.</p> + +<p>At last Banfi unknitted his bushy brows and stood stock still before his +trembling wife, who, ever since her husband entered the room, had been +the prey of the most conflicting emotions; joy and grief, fear and rage, +love and jealousy, still struggled for the mastery in her agitated +breast.</p> + +<p>"Margaret," he began, in an unsteady voice, "Margaret, you are jealous, +and jealousy is the first step towards hatred."</p> + +<p>"Then hate me rather than forget me!" cried the lady with a sudden +outburst, which she instantly regretted.</p> + +<p>"But what do you want me to do? Have you a single reason for suspecting +me? Perhaps you want me to render you an exact account of how many miles +I've travelled, how many people I've spoken to, like that blockhead Gida +Bertai, for instance, who takes a diary with him every time he leaves +the house, and reports to his better-half every half-hour? To hear you +speak, one would fancy that I keep you under lock and key, like Abraham +Thoroczkai keeps his wife, who, whenever he goes from home, puts a +padlock on his wife's chamber,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> and on his return exacts an oath from +all his neighbours that no one has spoken to her in the meantime."</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi laughed, but it was a laugh which ended in a sigh.</p> + +<p>"You evade the question with a jest. I certainly do not accuse you. I do +not watch you, and if you were to deceive me I should be none the wiser. +But look! there is that in a woman's heart (a sort of sixth sense) which +smarts she knows not why, and whereby she can tell instinctively whether +her beloved's love is on the wax or wane. I know not, nor wish to know, +whence you come and whither you go; but this I do know—you stay away a +long time, and do not make much haste in coming back. Banfi, I suffer—I +suffer more than you can think."</p> + +<p>"Madame!" cried Banfi, turning upon his wife with a flushed face, "in +this country divorce suits do not last very long!"</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi fell back into her chair, pressed her hands to her heart, and +gasped for breath. She uttered one sharp, plaintive cry, but no other +sound came from her parted lips. It was as though some one had suddenly +severed the strings of a harp with a sword.</p> + +<p>Half fainting, the wife looked up at her husband, as if to make sure +whether after all it was not a mere jest, though certainly a very +ghastly one.</p> + +<p>"You are unhappy," continued Banfi, "and I cannot help you. You are so +romantic, and I'm not given that way at all. Perhaps my heart wounds +yours, and I'm sorry for it; but your heart certainly wounds mine, and I +won't stand it. I recognize no tyrant over me, not even in love, and +I'll not endure persecution—no, not even the persecution of a woman's +tears. Let us rend our hearts asunder. Better do it now while they will +still bleed from the rupture than wait till they drop away of their own +accord. Let us rather part while we still love one another, than wait +till we have learned to hate."</p> + +<p>During the whole of this cruel speech the lady panted convulsively for +breath, as if a heavy nightmare were pressing upon her bosom and +depriving her of speech, till at last her emotion found an escape, and +she uttered a piercing scream.</p> + +<p>"Banfi! you are killing me!"</p> + +<p>Banfi himself seemed aghast at this cry, and turning round in the very +act of quitting the room, cast a glance at his wife.</p> + +<p>He did not perceive that at that moment the door opened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> and some one +entered; he only saw that his wife's agonized countenance was suddenly +distorted by an unspeakably painful smile. A forced smile on those +convulsed features was something too terrible. Banfi thought at first +that his wife had gone mad.</p> + +<p>The next instant Dame Banfi rose impetuously from her chair, and +exclaiming, "Anna! my darling Anna!" rushed towards the door.</p> + +<p>It was then that Banfi turned round, and saw before him Anna Bornemissa, +the consort of Michael Apafi. That lady's sharp eyes instantly detected +the agitation of the consorts, though they both did their best to hide +it, and not without success. But she made as though she saw nothing, and +drawing Margaret to her breast, kindly held out her hand to Banfi.</p> + +<p>"I heard your voices outside," said she, "so I came in without waiting +to be announced."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes ... we were ... laughing," said Dame Banfi, covertly wiping her +eyes with the corner of her pocket-handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"And to what circumstances do we owe this extraordinary piece of good +fortune?" asked Banfi, concealing his embarrassment behind an +exaggerated courtesy.</p> + +<p>"As you did not bring my sister to see me," returned the Princess, with +a reproachful smile, "I thought I would just visit my poor exiled +Hungarian kinswoman myself."</p> + +<p>Banfi felt the sting of these last words, and murmured as he stroked his +beard—</p> + +<p>"Here my fair sister-in-law may do with me what she will. She may make +me the butt of her sparkling wit; she may overwhelm me with her playful +sallies. In the Hall of the Diet, before the throne of the Prince, we +stand, face to face, as foes; but here you may command me, here I am +only your most devoted servant, who delights to do homage to your +charms, and is beside himself for joy to have you as his guest."</p> + +<p>With these words Banfi embraced the majestic lady with easy familiarity; +then, turning to his wife, added, not without a touch of malice—</p> + +<p>"I hope you will not be jealous of Anna?"</p> + +<p>The Princess hastened to reply instead of Margaret.</p> + +<p>"Methinks you fear me too much to make love to me."</p> + +<p>"I might perhaps if you were my wife. Yet we were near<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> being wedded +once. There was a time when I wanted to make you my bride."</p> + +<p>"But it went no further than wishing," returned the Princess, laughing.</p> + +<p>"We soon learned to know each other," continued Banfi. "There would have +been no room in one house for two such heads as ours, which find one +realm too small to hold them both. We both of us love to rule. We should +have been hard put to it if one had been obliged to obey the other. +Things fell out for the best. We have found our corresponding +halves—you Apafi; I Margaret—and we are both contented."</p> + +<p>With these words Banfi tenderly kissed his wife's hand and departed, +leaving the sisters alone.</p> + +<p>Anna, with noble gravity, placed her hand on the shoulder of her sister, +who looked up to her with a soft smile like an innocent child regarding +its guardian angel.</p> + +<p>"You have been weeping," began the Princess; "'tis in vain that you try +to put a good face on it."</p> + +<p>"I have not been weeping!" returned Margaret, keeping her countenance +with wonderful self-control.</p> + +<p>"Well, well; I'm glad you conceal it. That shows you love him; and if +ever there was a time when your husband needed your love, your +watchfulness, and your protection, it is now."</p> + +<p>"Your words alarm me! You have something extraordinary to tell me!"</p> + +<p>"My coming here at all must have been enough to have alarmed you. You +may well suppose that I would not come to your castle for nothing. We +have both equal cause to fear a certain person, and if we do not quickly +come to an understanding, one of us may lose what she prizes most in the +world."</p> + +<p>"Speak! oh, speak!" cried Dame Banfi, trembling, and making her sister +sit down beside her on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"Our husbands have hated each other from the first. They were always of +different opinions, belonged to opposite parties, and early became +accustomed to regard each other as foes. Woe betide us if this hatred +should turn to open strife, and we should see our loved ones compass +each other's ruin."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can positively assure you that Banfi nourishes no hostile feeling +against your husband."</p> + +<p>"I do not apprehend Apafi's fall, but your husband's. The throne upon +which he was placed by force has quite changed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> Apafi's character. I +perceive, to my consternation, that he has begun to grow jealous of his +authority. Why, even at Érsekújvár, when he first became Prince, he +expressed his anxiety to the Grand Vizier that Gabriel Haller was +plotting for the diadem, whereupon the Grand Vizier had poor Haller +beheaded there and then without my husband's knowledge; but Apafi still +recollects the message your husband sent him on that occasion, namely, +that ere long he would tear from his shoulders the green velvet mantle, +the symbol of the princely dignity."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! what must I not fear?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, so long as I do not lose my husband's favour. While you are +securely sleeping, I am watchfully guarding against his passionate +outbursts, and hitherto God has given me strength to fight against the +monsters who would make of his reign a bloody memorial. But there is a +certain condition of mind to which my husband is liable when my +influence over him loses all its talismanic power; when, revolting +against his own nature, his gentleness turns to ravening savagery; when +his eyes, usually so ready to weep at the death of his lowliest vassal, +seem to thirst for blood; when he throws off his habitual +circumspectness and becomes wildly reckless. And this condition—I blush +to confess it—is drunkenness. I do not bring it against him as an +accusation. He whom we love has no fault in our eyes."</p> + +<p>"Except one thing—his infidelity to us," interrupted Margaret.</p> + +<p>"That too, yes, that too must be forgiven when it becomes a question of +saving his life," replied the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Anna!" cried Margaret, "you make me suspect mysteries which you +will not reveal to me."</p> + +<p>"What you ought to know you shall know. A little while ago your husband, +with haughty presumption, opposed himself to a mighty faction which has +kings for its confederates and kings for its antagonists; he might just +as well have opposed Destiny herself. He is too proud to calculate the +dangers which he thus draws down upon his head; or does he really think +that they who sharpen their swords against a reigning monarch would +suffer for an instant one of their own subjects to raise his head +against them? And Banfi has threatened, mocked, insulted them, and +entangled the meshes of their well and widely laid plans—nay, more, he +has encountered and browbeaten them in the very presence of the +Prince."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>Dame Banfi folded her arms in timid resignation.</p> + +<p>"I see the storm which is gathering over Banfi's head. In his drunken +fits, Apafi has let fall hints which have filled my soul with terror, +and I don't wish Apafi's to be the hand to strike down Banfi for the +sake of others. They will try to catch him at every turn, but we two +will watch over him. I will endeavour to keep back the stroke, yet +should it fall, 'tis for you to ward it off. We must both possess the +entire love and confidence of our consorts, so as to be able to +intervene energetically and decisively should they come to blows. For +would it not be frightful if one fell by the other's hand, and one of us +were the cause of the other's misery?"</p> + +<p>Margaret timidly pressed Anna's hand.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do? Oh, my God! what can I do? How can I intervene? I have +no power."</p> + +<p>"Your power lies in your love, watchfulness, and self-sacrifice," +returned Dame Apafi with an exalted look, striving to inspire her weaker +sister with something of her own strength.</p> + +<p>At that moment the fate of two men was in the hands of two angels, and +the fate of those two men was one with the fate of Transylvania.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IV" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE.</span></h2> + + +<p>As Denis Banfi, after quitting his wife's chamber, was descending the +spiral staircase which led to the hall, he saw a young horseman come +galloping at full speed into the courtyard.</p> + +<p>The horseman was covered with blood and foam. As he sprang from his +horse the beast collapsed altogether; but the rider rushed pell-mell +towards Banfi, who, recognizing in him one of his captains, Gabriel +Benkö, went to meet him, and asked him what was the matter.</p> + +<p>"Sir," began the gasping knight, catching his breath, "Ali Pasha is +attacking Banfi-Hunyad."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" said Banfi gruffly, not displeased that Fate had given +his irritated temper something to rend and tear. "Send Veer hither!" he +cried to his retainers; "and you, when you have got your breath, just +tell me how the matter went."</p> + +<p>"I must be brief, my lord. I come from the thick of the fight. Yesterday +a troop of Kurdish freebooters appeared before Banfi-Hunyad. Your +lordship's captain, Gregory Söter, anticipating that they had come to +levy blackmail, went out against them with the castle bands, engaged in +combat with them, drove them from beneath the walls after a sharp +contest, and, following up his advantage, sounded a charge and pursued +the fugitives in the direction of Zenlelke. We were still pursuing the +Kurds, who fled headlong, when suddenly we saw ourselves attacked in +flank; and in a trice the whole plain was swarming with Turkish +horsemen, who overran us like ants. I cannot exactly tell their numbers, +but I saw three horse-tail standards with my own eyes, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> proves +that the Pasha himself was with the expedition. Söter had no time to +make good his retreat to Banfi-Hunyad."</p> + +<p>"The devil!" cried Banfi.</p> + +<p>"Every one of us had to do with two or three of them. Söter himself +seized a morning-star with one hand and a broadsword with the other, and +cried to me—I was by his side—'My son, leave the battle-field, cut +your way through! Fly to Bonczhida and tell the news!' I heard no more. +The surging masses parted us; so I threw my shield over my shoulders, +bowed my head deep down over my saddle-bow, gave my nag the spur, and +galloped out of the fight. About one hundred horsemen pursued me, the +darts fell like a hailstorm on my shield; but my good horse, well aware +of the danger, redoubled his speed, and so the pursuers lost trace of +me."</p> + +<p>"Did you come direct to Bonczhida?"</p> + +<p>"No; I made a side-spring to Banfi-Hunyad, to warn the people there of +their danger, so that they might have time to escape to the mountains."</p> + +<p>"You did wisely. Then the people have escaped?"</p> + +<p>"By no means. It was in front of Dame Vizaknai's house that I told the +news to the people. Their faces turned pale, when all at once the lady +of the house appeared with a drawn sword in her hand, and as if +possessed by the spirits of a hundred warriors, stood among the people +with sparkling eyes and thus addressed them—</p> + +<p>"'Are ye men? If so, seize your weapons, go out upon the ramparts, and +show the world that you can defend the place where your children were +born and your fathers lie buried. But if ye are cowards, then fly +whither you will; but the women will remain behind here with me, to show +the savage foe that none is too weak to fight for hearth and home.'"</p> + +<p>Banfi, with a hoarse voice, called to his armourers to bring him +breastplate, spear, and helmet, and beckoned to the panting messenger to +go on with his story.</p> + +<p>"At these words the people uttered a loud and furious cry. The women, +like so many Bacchantes, ran in search of weapons, and mounted the +ramparts by the side of their husbands, whom the determination of their +wives had turned into veritable heroes. Every one seized the first thing +that came to hand—scythes, spades, flails. Meanwhile, Dame Vizaknai was +everywhere at once, marshalling and haranguing the com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>batants, +barricading the church, breaking down the bridge, so that when I left +the town, it was already in a fair state of defence. Thereupon I swam +the Körös, to avoid making a long circuit, and came hither through the +woods and by-ways."</p> + +<p>During the latter part of this narrative Banfi seemed to be nearly +beside himself. He waited now for neither armour nor helmet, but roared +for his horse; and as he sprang into the saddle, cried to Veer, who was +hastening up—</p> + +<p>"After me to Banfi-Hunyad! March day and night. The infantry must go +round by the Gyalyui Alps. The cavalry will follow me to Klausenburg. +Light beacons in the mountains as you approach, that I may attack the +foe simultaneously with the vanguard."</p> + +<p>"Would it not perhaps be better if your Excellency remained behind with +the main army?" said George Veer, with an anxious face.</p> + +<p>"Do what I bid you, sir!" was Banfi's reply; and giving his horse the +spur, he dashed off, followed by about half-a-dozen of his suite.</p> + +<p>"What ails him then, that he will neither wait for us, nor inform his +wife and the Princess of what has happened?"</p> + +<p>"He was aghast when I told him that Dame Vizaknai was defending +Banfi-Hunyad," said Benkö apologetically. "She is an old flame of his +whom he has long forgotten; but his youthful affection seemed to revive +him when he heard of her heroic audacity."</p> + +<p>George Veer, satisfied with this explanation, ordered his squadrons to +take horse forthwith; and after previously informing Lady Banfi that he +was off on a petty raid, departed for Klausenburg, leaving the command +of the infantry to Captain Michael Angel, who did not break up till +evening, the road along the Snow Mountains being much the shorter way.</p> + +<p>Just as they were about to start, a tattered young Szekler, with pale +cheeks but strong arms, stepped forth. His companions had pushed him +into the front ranks.</p> + +<p>"Come, sing us a battle-song!" they cried.</p> + +<p>It was the rude, popular poet, Ambrose Gelenze.</p> + +<p>Drawing from the pocket of his tunic his Bible, on the inside of the +parchment covers of which he used to jot down his improvised war-songs, +he placed himself in front of the host, and began to sing the following +simple lay, the whole of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> the Transylvanian gentry repeating it word for +word as they marched after him—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2q">"Now dawns serene the morning sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The wonted hour hath come;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sounds bold and free the merry march,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor bush nor brake is dumb!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then up! to horse! and scale the height,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bold Magyar! Szekler steeled in fight!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And sturdy Saxon hind!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A laggard he who doth not hie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When straight before the road doth lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where there is no road to go, then climb, nor look behind!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This song, sung by thousands and thousands of warriors, gradually died +away in the distance.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>George Veer, on reaching Klausenburg, no longer found Banfi there. The +Lord-Lieutenant with two hundred horsemen had departed an hour before.</p> + +<p>Veer, after allowing his men a brief halt, followed Banfi all night long +without being able to overtake him; the Baron had always the start of +him, though sometimes only a few minutes.</p> + +<p>It was already late in the night when Banfi with his two hundred +horsemen reached the point where the Körös intersects the woody dale; +just where a bridge crosses the stream the Turk had pitched his camp. +Watchful Bedouins lay stretched on their bellies there, with their long +muskets in their hands. It was impossible to surprise them.</p> + +<p>In the direction of Banfi-Hunyad a red glow illuminated the sky, +alternately waxing and waning.</p> + +<p>Leaving his horsemen in ambush on the opposite shore, Banfi with four +companions descended to the stream to seek for a ford. The Körös is +there so rapid that it can unhorse the firmest rider. Fortunately it had +fallen so much in consequence of the summer drought, that Banfi soon +found a place where the water flowed more calmly, and waded successfully +through it with his escort. One of them he sent back to fetch the rest, +but he himself with the other three remained on the opposite bank +looking steadily in the direction of the fire.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile a patrol of Bedouin horsemen, who were keeping watch on the +bank, perceived the three riders and their leader, and challenged them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>Banfi would have fallen back, but three of the Bedouins charged upon him +forthwith, while the three others with couched lances fell upon his +comrades.</p> + +<p>"Bend your heads down over the necks of your horses, and seize their +lances with your left hands!" cried Banfi to his companions; and with +that they all four drew their swords, went at full tilt against the foe, +and collided beneath the dark shadows without another word.</p> + +<p>Banfi was in the centre. The lances of the three Bedouins whizzed +through the air simultaneously, and Banfi's comrades fell on both sides +of him, transfixed, from their horses, while he with his left hand +skilfully disarmed one of the spearmen, at the same time dealing him a +blow with his right hand which cleft his skull. He then turned +single-handed upon his two nearest assailants, and cut down one with his +lance and the other with his sword.</p> + +<p>But now the three remaining horsemen fell furiously upon him.</p> + +<p>"Come on then!" shouted Banfi, gnashing his teeth; and with that +terrible humour peculiar to certain warriors in the hour of danger, he +added—"I'll teach you how to wield the spear, my boys!" and setting his +back against a clump of trees, he stuck his sword into its sheath, +seized his spear with both hands, and not three minutes had elapsed +before all three Bedouins had fallen from their horses to the ground.</p> + +<p>Then he looked around to see if any more were coming, and was delighted +to observe that the Turks at the bridge had heard nothing of the tussle, +while his two hundred horsemen had come down to the river-side and were +noiselessly crossing to the opposite bank.</p> + +<p>Some of the fallen Bedouins were still moaning and groaning.</p> + +<p>"Smash their skulls in, that they may not betray us with their cries!"</p> + +<p>"Ought we not to await Veer's troops?" asked one of the captains.</p> + +<p>"We cannot. We haven't time!" replied Banfi, with his eyes fixed upon +the ruddy horizon, and the little band proceeded covertly through field +and forest.</p> + +<p>Soon a distant hubbub struck upon their ears, and when they had climbed +to the top of a little hill, Banfi-Hunyad emerged before their eyes.</p> + +<p>Banfi gave a sigh of relief. It was not the town that was burning, but +the haystacks. The roofs of the houses had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> taken off beforehand by +the inhabitants themselves to prevent the enemy from setting them on +fire. Even the church and castle were roofless, and the Turkish host +could be seen swarming round them by the light of the conflagration, +whilst from the battlements a fiery rain of sulphur and pitch, +occasionally intermingled with heavy beams, poured down upon the +besiegers, and drove them back from the walls.</p> + +<p>Ali Pasha had not waited for his artillery,—it had stuck fast in the +wretched roads,—imagining that he could easily storm a place defended +only by women and peasants. But it is notorious that despair makes every +one a soldier, and that even scythes and axes are good weapons in +resolute hands.</p> + +<p>At this spectacle Banfi's features grew flaming red. He fancied he saw a +white female form on the pinnacle of the tower, immediately gave his +horse the spur, and rushed forward like a whirlwind, crying to his +horsemen—</p> + +<p>"Don't count the enemy now; we shall have time enough for that +afterwards, when we have cut them all down!" and in a quarter of an hour +the little band had reached the camp before the town.</p> + +<p>There every one was slumbering. Whilst one half of the host was storming +the town the other found time to repose. Even the heads of the sentries +hung drowsily down. There they lay, close to their horses, and only +awoke out of their dreams when Banfi was already charging through their +ranks.</p> + +<p>The Baron, who seemed bent upon relieving the besieged single-handed, +cut down everything that came in his way; while the Turks, scared out of +their slumbers, blindly snatched up sword and spear, and began +massacring each other, despite all the efforts of the Tsahusz's to +restore order.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Banfi was madly forcing his way through the Turkish host +surrounding the church. The foremost rows fled back aghast at this +unexpected onslaught; but a brigade of Ali Pasha's picked Mamelukes rode +forward and arrested the flight.</p> + +<p>A gigantic Moor stood at the head of this troop. His horse too was an +extraordinarily big beast, a stallion sixteen hands high. The +protuberant, swelling muscles of the dusky giant's naked arms shone like +steel in the hellish glare of the burning haystacks, his broad mouth was +bleeding from the blow of a stone, and the whites of his eyes gleamed +ghost-like out of his dark countenance.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>"Halt, Giaour!" roared the Moor, with a voice which rose above the din +of battle, and he went straight for Banfi. In his enormous fist sparkled +a sabre as broad as a man's hand; it appeared too heavy even for him.</p> + +<p>Two hussars riding in front of Banfi fell right and left before two +blows from the monster, one without his head, the other cleft to the +shoulder. Throwing back his arm for a third stroke, the Moor rose in his +stirrups, and exclaimed with a voice of thunder—</p> + +<p>"I am Kariassar, the invincible! Thank thy God that thou diest by my +hand!" and with that he swept his sword backwards, and dealt a +tremendous blow at Banfi's head.</p> + +<p>The Baron, with the utmost sangfroid, brought his sword in front of his +face, and at the very moment when Kariassar let fly at him, made with +lightning-like swiftness a dextrous lunge at the Moor's fist—it was +what fencers call <i>an inner cut</i>—striking off Kariassar's four fingers, +so that the heavy scimitar fell clashing out of the fingerless hand.</p> + +<p>The black's face grew pale from rage and pain. With a frightful howl he +instantly threw himself on Banfi, and disregarding fresh wounds on his +face and shoulders, seized Banfi's right hand with his left, and must +have dragged him from his horse by sheer brute force if the Baron had +not had an uncommonly firm seat.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if the Moor were capable of crushing him with only one +hand. But Banfi was a good rider, and now he pressed his horse tightly +with his knee, whereupon the noble beast reared and plunged; and while +the giant was struggling with his master, and tearing at his lacerated +arm with a lion's strength, the war-horse turned suddenly on the Moor, +struck him a blow on the thigh with its front hoof, bit his brawny +breast with foaming mouth, and shook the bitten part between its teeth.</p> + +<p>Kariassar yelled aloud, and suddenly relinquishing the Baron, grasped +his poniard with his left hand, and writhing with pain, drew it from its +sheath; but at the self-same moment Banfi dealt a rapid stroke at the +giant's neck. The huge head rolled suddenly to the ground, and while the +blood shot up in a threefold jet from the severed neck, the headless +figure remained for an instant swaying on its horse, and spasmodically +waving its poniard—a fearful spectacle to friend and foe.</p> + +<p>At the sight of their leader's fall the terrified Mamelukes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> scattered +in all directions, trampling one another down in their panic-flight. At +the same time the defenders of the church threw down their barricades +and made a sortie, Dame Vizaknai at their head with a drawn sword, and +close behind her the priests as standard-bearers with the church's +banners. The great besieging host, thus caught between two fires, was +cut in two, leaving a free space on one side for the scythes of the +peasants, and on the other for the csakanys of the hussars.</p> + +<p>The csakany, by the way, is a mighty weapon in the hands of those who +know how to use it. Its strokes are almost unavoidable. Its long, +pointed beak smites down with such force as to crush shield and helmet +to pieces, and a sword is no defence against it.</p> + +<p>Step by step the besieged and the relief party drew nearer to each +other, driving before them the Janissaries, who contested every inch of +ground, and even when lying on the ground half-dead, aimed with their +daggers at the feet of the horses which trampled them down.</p> + +<p>Dame Vizaknai sprang towards Denis Banfi and seized his horse by the +bridle.</p> + +<p>"The danger is great, my lord! The Turk is twenty to one. Come behind +the churchyard wall."</p> + +<p>"I'll not budge a single step," replied Banfi coolly; "but that is no +reason why you should not save yourself behind your barricades."</p> + +<p>"Not another step do I budge either," rejoined Dame Vizaknai.</p> + +<p>"I can defend myself!" cried Banfi vehemently.</p> + +<p>"And I too!" replied the lady proudly.</p> + +<p>The next instant fresh squadrons came streaming up from every quarter, +as if they had fallen from the clouds or sprung from the earth—infantry +and cavalry with long muskets, bows and arrows, and ribboned darts.</p> + +<p>"Ali! Ali! Allah akbar!"</p> + +<p>The Hungarian forces ranged themselves in battle array, with their backs +to the churchyard wall, and awaited the attack. From the end of the +street a glittering array of horsemen was seen approaching; it consisted +of a picked corps of Spahis<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> on stately Arabs, whose emerald-set +saddles sparkled in the firelight. In their midst rode Ali on a slender, +snow-white Barbary steed, in his hand flashed a diamond-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>hilted +scimitar; on his head he wore a turbaned helmet; his long black beard +fell down over his silver breastplate. On coming within gunshot of +Banfi's host, he halted and marshalled his squadrons.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <i>Spahis.</i> Light Turkish cavalry.</p></div> + +<p>Hitherto Banfi had not touched his pistols, the wonderfully-carved ivory +handles of which peeped forth from his holsters. But now he drew them +forth and handed them to Dame Vizaknai.</p> + +<p>"Take them!" said he; "you must have wherewith to defend yourself."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Ali Pasha had sent forward a herald, who, drawing near to the +Hungarians, delivered the following message to them—</p> + +<p>"My master, Ali Pasha, informs you, O ye unbelieving Giaours, that every +loophole of escape is closed. Wherefore then strive against him further? +Lay down your weapons and throw yourselves upon his mercy."</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the herald finished speaking when two shots resounded, and +he fell dead from his horse. Dame Vizaknai had fired both pistols at him +by way of reply. Then Ali Pasha beckoned furiously to the squadrons +surrounding him, and from all sides there rained darts, bullets, and +arrows on the little band of Hungarians. The same moment Dame Vizaknai +climbed on to Banfi's stirrups, and supporting herself on his shoulders +with one hand, cried—</p> + +<p>"Fear nought, my friends!"</p> + +<p>A crackling report and a hissing shower of darts followed. Dame Vizaknai +covered Banfi with her body, and after the fiery tempest had roared +past, the Baron felt her hold upon his arm relaxing. An arrow had struck +her just above the heart.</p> + +<p>"That arrow was meant for you," said Dame Vizaknai, with a faint voice, +and she sank dead to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Poor lady!" cried Banfi, with a look of compassion. "She always loved +me, and would never show it."</p> + +<p>And then blood flowed instead of tears.</p> + +<p>The Turkish host surrounded the Hungarians on every side, but were +unable to break through their ranks. Banfi was already fighting with his +eighth Spahi, who like the seven others was at last overcome by the +Baron's extraordinary dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage.</p> + +<p>"Why can't you cut down that grizzly dog?" roared he furiously, and +galloped himself against Banfi, driving his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> flying followers out of his +way with the flat part of his sword-blade. "'Tis I, Ali Pasha, who now +stands before thee, vile hog!" bellowed he, gnashing his teeth, "thou +son of a dog, thou."</p> + +<p>"Keep your titles for yourself," cried Banfi, and riding up to the Pasha +he dealt him a tremendous blow on the helmet with his sword, so that +sword and helmet were both smashed to pieces, and the champions reeled +back half stunned. Ali quickly snatched from his armour-bearers a round +shield, while Banfi was hastily provided with a steel csakany, and again +they rushed upon each other.</p> + +<p>The csakany fell with fearful force upon the shield, and knocked a hole +through it, while Ali lunged forward with his scimitar, and this time +only a very dexterous twist of the head saved Banfi's life.</p> + +<p>"I'll play ball with thy head!" cried Ali contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"And I'll make a broom of thy beard!" retorted Banfi.</p> + +<p>"I'll have thy coat-of-arms nailed up over my stables!"</p> + +<p>"And thy skin, stuffed with sawdust, shall serve me as a scarecrow!"</p> + +<p>"Thou rebellious slave!"</p> + +<p>"Thou barber's apprentice turned general."</p> + +<p>Every abusive epithet was accompanied by a fresh and furious blow.</p> + +<p>"Thou dishonourable girl-snatcher," cried the Pasha, with foaming mouth. +"Thou dost filch Turkish maidens for thy unclean embraces; therefore +will I carry off thy wife and make her the lowest slave in my harem."</p> + +<p>To Banfi the world seemed all at once to be turning round and round. His +soul had received three wounds, which quite divested him of humanity.</p> + +<p>"Thou accursed devil," he roared, gnashing his teeth, seized his csakany +by the middle with both hands, sprang closer to Ali, and whirled his +weapon with lightning-like rapidity over his head, so that it flew round +and round in his hands like the sail of a windmill, crashing down now +with its axe-head, now with its bullet-shaped nether end on his +antagonist's shield, and attacking and defending himself at the same +time. Ali Pasha, confused at this altogether novel mode of attack, would +have retired; but the two war-horses, furiously biting each other about +the head and neck, were now taking part in the contest of their masters, +and could not be parted.</p> + +<p>The Spahis, seeing their leader waver, threw themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> between the +combatants and drove from Banfi's side his escort of hussars. The Baron +now perceiving that all his people had fled to the churchyard, directed +one last swift stroke at Ali's shield, which, to judge from Ali's +agonized howl, penetrated it at the very spot where fitted on to the +arm. Banfi had no time for a third encounter, as he was now completely +surrounded.</p> + +<p>At that moment a well-known flourish of trumpets resounded in the rear +of the combatants, and a fresh and general battle-cry mingled with the +din—</p> + +<p>"God and St. Michael."</p> + +<p>George Veer had arrived with the banderia.</p> + +<p>"God and St. Michael!" thundered the leader of the nobility, conspicuous +among them all in his silver coat of mail with the bearskin thrown over +his shoulders; and with his toothed battle-axe he hewed his way through +the ranks of the astonished Turks.</p> + +<p>The attack was skilfully conducted; the mounted nobility pressed on from +all sides, simultaneously bringing the Turkish host everywhere into +confusion, so that one wing could not assist the other, and the +outermost ranks were always borne down by superior numbers.</p> + +<p>Ali Pasha had received a bad wound in the arm from Banfi's last blow, +which had daunted his courage, so he stuck his spurs into his horse's +sides and gave the signal for retreat.</p> + +<p>The Turkish host was driven head and heels out of the town, and its +leaders endeavoured to retreat among the Gyalyui Alps, hoping to rally +it again in the narrow defiles.</p> + +<p>Outside the town the battle, fast becoming a rout, still raged +furiously. The Hungarians scattered about the burning hayricks, and were +so intermingled in the darkness of the night with their opponents that +they could only distinguish one another by their battle-cries.</p> + +<p>The harassed Turkish host, which in the darkness and confusion at one +time took refuge among the enemy, and at another cut down their own +comrades, tried to imitate the battle-cry of the Hungarians, but this +only made the mischief greater; for as they could not pronounce the +words "Angel Michael," but always cried "Anchal Michel," they exposed +themselves more completely to the Hungarians.</p> + +<p>The Turkish army was now completely beaten; more than a thousand of its +dead lay in the streets and around the church,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> and only the mountain +passes, into which it was not prudent for the Hungarians to follow them, +saved them from utter annihilation.</p> + +<p>George Veer therefore sounded the recall, whilst Banfi, with restless +rage, rushed hither and thither after the flying foe. All in vain; every +way was barred by the trunks of trees which the Turks had hewn down in +hot haste.</p> + +<p>"We must let them escape!" cried Veer, thrusting his sabre into its +sheath.</p> + +<p>"Say not so! say not so!" cried Banfi excitedly, and riding up to the +top of a hillock, he seemed to be observing something in the distance. +Suddenly he exclaimed with a joyful voice—"Look yonder. The +fire-signals have just been lit!"</p> + +<p>And indeed on the crests of the Gyalyui Mountains the fire-signals could +be seen flashing up one by one in a long line.</p> + +<p>"Those are our people!" cried Banfi, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk is +caught in the trap. Forward!" And remarshalling his squadrons, he +galloped towards the barricaded forest paths, heedless of the warnings +of the more circumspect Veer.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Meanwhile Ali Pasha, abandoning his tents, camels, and booty-laden +wagons to the enemy, sent Dzem Haman, the Albanian commander, on before, +to level the roads over the snowy mountains.</p> + +<p>As now Dzem Haman was advancing through the darkness and superintending +the labours of his Albanian pioneers, he heard voices in the steep rock +above his head, and a company of armed men suddenly emerged from the +mountain passes before his eyes.</p> + +<p>The troops on both sides challenged each other simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"Who are ye? What are you doing?"</p> + +<p>"We are carrying stones," answered Dzem Haman. "And you?"</p> + +<p>"We too are carrying stones," was the answer from above.</p> + +<p>"We are Dzem Haman's men, who are removing the stones from the path of +Ali Pasha—and ye, are you not Csaky's men?"</p> + +<p>"We are collecting stones for the head of Ali Pasha, and are Michael +Angel's people," resounded from above, and at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> the same time a terrible +rain of stones rolled down upon the heads of the Albanians, by way of +confirming the statement.</p> + +<p>"Michel Anchal is here also!" roared the terrified Albanians, falling +back aghast, and creating a panic among those behind them by declaring +that they were surrounded.</p> + +<p>At these tidings, the Turkish host, harassed from before and behind, +resolved itself into a disorderly mass, on which, at break of day, the +Hungarian infantry began rolling enormous masses of stone and rock.</p> + +<p>Ali Pasha attempted first on one side and then on another to break +through the enemy's lines, but was everywhere driven back with fearful +loss by the missiles hurled down from above. The boldest warriors, who +had fought man to man in a hundred battles, fled back pale and trembling +before the thundering masses of rock, which so completely smashed +everything that came in their way that horse and rider were +undistinguishable.</p> + +<p>Ali Pasha tore his beard in impotent rage on perceiving that he and all +his host were at the mercy of an army even now much weaker than his own.</p> + +<p>"There is neither help nor refuge, save with the Most High God!" cried +he, breaking his sword in twain in his despair; and drawing out his +pistols, he pointed them at his own heart.</p> + +<p>At that moment a hand snatched his weapons from him, and Ali Pasha saw +Zülfikar before him.</p> + +<p>"What wouldst thou do, madman?" cried he. "Thou wouldst not have me fall +into the hands of the unbelievers?"</p> + +<p>"I would deliver you and your host out of their hands," said Zülfikar.</p> + +<p>"By the shadow of Allah, thou dost speak brave words, and if thou +couldst but do as thou sayst, I would make thee the foremost of my +captains."</p> + +<p>"I desire no such honour. Promise me a thousand ducats, and send me as a +messenger to Banfi."</p> + +<p>"So that thou mayst betray my position to him, eh! thou cur?"</p> + +<p>"I've no need to do that. He can see it for himself from yon hill-top. +You are as good as dead and buried already, so that you have no choice +but to trust to me. You may hold out for a couple of days perhaps; but +then you and your bravest heroes must perish with hunger just like me. +We are all in the same evil case, there is nothing to choose between any +of us."</p> + +<p>"And what wouldst thou do, wretched slave?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>"Induce Banfi to withdraw his troops from the road leading to Kalota, +and thus leave us a loophole of escape."</p> + +<p>"And dost thou think that possible?"</p> + +<p>"It may, or it may not be so. Where death is certain, a man cares not +what he risks. If I can speak to Banfi this evening, you may be able to +escape the same night. If I succeed, well. If not, we shall be no worse +off than we are now."</p> + +<p>"The fellow speaks boldly. Do as thou dost desire. I'll trust thee. +Allah alone reads the secrets of the heart. Go!"</p> + +<p>Zülfikar laid down his arms, and went all alone down to the narrow pass +leading to Kalota. When he came to the Hungarian outposts, his eyes fell +upon rows of dead Turks who had been hung up on the trees along the +wayside. This sight did not appear to disturb the renegade in the least. +He stepped boldly among the Magyars, and as they seized him, said +quickly to them in the purest Hungarian—</p> + +<p>"Bring me to Denis Banfi. I am his spy!"</p> + +<p>"You lie!" cried they. "Sling him up."</p> + +<p>"I can prove it," continued Zülfikar, with a loud voice, and taking a +neatly-folded parchment out of his turban, he handed it to the captain.</p> + +<p>The letter contained these words—</p> + +<p>"I, Gregory Söter, hereby declare to all the commanders of the Hungarian +troops that Zülfikar, the bearer of this letter, is my faithful war-spy. +Let him pass free everywhere."</p> + +<p>The captain gave back the letter, not without grumbling, and bade two of +his soldiers lead Zülfikar to Banfi, but they were to cut him down at +once if the general did not acknowledge him. However, at the first +glance Banfi recognized in him Pongracz, Balassa's former servant, and +motioned to his men to leave them alone together.</p> + +<p>"So you have turned Turk?" said Banfi.</p> + +<p>"This is no time for questions, my lord. 'Tis for me to speak, and to +the point. I'll be brief, if you'll let me. Emerich Balassa expelled me +from his house when he learnt that I had helped you to abduct Azrael."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Banfi, contracting his brows. "The girl has flown from me +too—whither, I know not."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, you do; and the worst of it is, others know it also. +Close to the Gradina Dracului there is a habitation among the rocks, and +there she dwells."</p> + +<p>"Silence!" cried Banfi, aghast. "How know you that?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>"Balassa has lodged a complaint with the Prince about the abduction of +the girl. The matter is not such a trifle as you imagine. Azrael is the +Sultan's daughter, who, after being betrothed to Ali Pasha, was carried +off by Corsar Beg, whom Balassa's poison alone saved from the silken +cord, while Balassa himself has become a homeless vagabond because of +her. She has been the ruin of all who ever possessed her. It is your +turn now. The Prince having promised the disgraced Ladislaus Csaky +everything he likes to ask, if only he can ferret out the girl's +hiding-place, Csaky slyly commissioned the Patrol-officer to make +inquiries among the people whether a panther had been seen anywhere in +the woods, for he well knew that it is the habit of this wild beast to +roam about in search of prey. Its track led them to the rocky retreat, +the girl has been seen, and everything discovered."</p> + +<p>"Devils and hell!" cried Banfi, turning pale.</p> + +<p>"Listen further. Csaky communicated his plan to Ali Pasha, and it was +agreed between them that while the Pasha attacked Banfi-Hunyad, Csaky +with two thousand Wallachs was to scour the mountains under the pretext +of a hunt, and storm the Devil's Garden."</p> + +<p>"What infernal villainy!" cried Banfi, striking his sword with his fist.</p> + +<p>"It is just possible, my lord, that you might still arrive in time," +added the renegade insidiously, "if you do not stay here too long."</p> + +<p>"We'll be off at once," cried Banfi, pale with rage. "I'll teach these +lickspittlers to invade the domains of a free nobleman at the very +moment when he himself is fighting against the enemies of his country. A +few hundred men will be sufficient to keep Ali Pasha in check from this +side. With the rest I wager I'll be able to pull Master Ladislaus Csaky +out by the ears if I catch him trespassing."</p> + +<p>And immediately Banfi commanded his men to set out for Marisel as +swiftly and as silently as possible, and bade the little band he left +behind him light many large fires in the wood, so as to make the enemy +believe that the whole host was bivouacking there, while he himself +hastened towards the imperilled hiding-place. To Zülfikar he paid five +hundred gold pieces for his timely warning.</p> + +<p>The same night Ali Pasha fell with his whole host upon the two or three +hundred Hungarians whom Banfi had left behind him; scattered them after +a brief resistance, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> hastened back to Grosswardein, swallowing as +best he could the indignity of a great defeat, for he left behind him +two thousand dead, and the whole of his baggage.</p> + +<p>From him too Zülfikar received the covenanted one thousand gold pieces, +thus doing a service to the Turks and to the Hungarians at the same +time, and making both of them pay him for his pains.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_V" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL.</span></h2> + + +<p>The blast of hunting-horns resounded from the Batrina Mountains, the +hubbub of the chase came nearer and nearer; a group of well-dressed, +well-mounted gentlemen led the way, and at their head rode Count +Ladislaus Csaky.</p> + +<p>"After him! after him!" resounded on all sides, and the pack were +already in full cry, when the cavalcade, emerging from the thicket into +an open glade, suddenly encountered another party coming from the +opposite direction, in whose leader they all recognized Denis Banfi. +Csaky with considerable confusion called the beaters back.</p> + +<p>Banfi rode up to the group with an ironical smile.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, gentlemen, to my domains. Delighted, I'm sure, at my great +good fortune. Probably you have lost your way; but, if not, you are my +guests, and consequently doubly welcome. But, pray, why do you stare at +me so wildly? You really remind me of the Hindoo proverb, which says, He +who beats the woods for a stag, oftentimes falls in with a lion."</p> + +<p>"We regard your Excellency neither as a stag nor yet as a lion," +returned Csaky, blushing up to the ears in his confusion. "The fact is, +we fancied ourselves on lawful ground."</p> + +<p>"Of course! of course!" returned Banfi, with an offensive smile. "You +are on my property, and that is certainly lawful ground. I don't know +how to express my gratitude for such an honour. No doubt you are tired +too. I therefore invite you all to Bonczhida, just to take a little +pot-luck with me."</p> + +<p>"We are much obliged," returned Csaky angrily, "but we are unable just +now to accept your invitation."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; you'll not put me off. It is not my practice to let those who +have come to me as guests depart hungry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> and thirsty. I cannot regard +you as poachers, I suppose? And if you are not poachers, you must be +guests."</p> + +<p>"A third case is also possible."</p> + +<p>"I know of none."</p> + +<p>"Your Excellency shall learn from me that there is, though."</p> + +<p>"Quite right. But there will be time for that at table. So turn your +horses' heads towards Bonczhida, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"I've already said that we can't accept your invitation."</p> + +<p>"What! Are you so ill acquainted with my hospitality as not to know +that, if necessary, I will carry you off by force? Ha, ha! You must take +away with you a reminiscence of Bonczhida. As you know now what my wild +animals are like, you must make the acquaintance of my domestic animals +also. In any case, I mean to take you by force."</p> + +<p>"A truce to jesting, Banfi. This is not the place for it."</p> + +<p>"Methinks 'tis you that jest. I am perfectly serious when I say that I +will take you with me even against your will."</p> + +<p>"We should like to see you do it."</p> + +<p>"Then see it you shall," and with that Banfi blew on his horn, and +instantly armed squadrons poured forth from every corner of the wood. +Count Csaky and his merry men were completely surrounded.</p> + +<p>"Ha! this is treachery!" cried Csaky wildly.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no! 'Tis only a little carnival jest," replied Banfi, +laughing. "This time 'tis the quarry which captures the huntsmen. +Forward, comrades! Take these gentlemen's horses by the bridles, and +follow me with them to Bonczhida. If any one stands upon ceremony, tie +his legs to the stirrups."</p> + +<p>"I protest against this compulsion," cried Csaky furiously. "I take you +all to witness that I enter my protest against this act of violence."</p> + +<p>"I for my part call every one to witness," repeated Banfi, laughing, +"that I've invited these gentlemen to a banquet in the most friendly +manner in the world."</p> + +<p>"I protest! 'Tis violence."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! 'Tis a merry jest. 'Tis Hungarian hospitality!"</p> + +<p>Some of the gentlemen laughed, others swore. As however Banfi had +numbers on his side, the Csakyites sulkily and wrathfully submitted at +last to their jocose tyrant, and allowed themselves to be conducted to +Bonczhida, though Csaky stopped every one he met on the road, and took +them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> to witness that Banfi was doing him violence, while Banfi +laughingly endeavoured to make it plain to the good people that the +worthy gentleman was a trifle fuddled, and that they were playing a +harmless little practical joke upon him.</p> + +<p>"You will live to bitterly rue this!" cried Csaky, gnashing his teeth, +and half beside himself with rage.</p> + +<p>As they were passing through a village, one of Csaky's company, a young +nobleman, whom his friends called Szantho, broke away from the crowd and +vanished before he could be overtaken.</p> + +<p>"Let him go to the devil!" cried Banfi gaily. "We will manage to be +merry without him, eh! my lord Ladislaus Csaky?"</p> + +<p>Gradually Csaky recovered his sangfroid, and his wrath seemed to abate; +indeed, by the time they reached Bonczhida he wore a radiantly smiling +countenance, for he was well aware that it would be indecent as well as +ridiculous to pull wry faces before ladies. He therefore allowed himself +to be presented to Dames Apafi and Banfi as a chance guest picked up on +the way, without the least show of ill-humour.</p> + +<p>Banfi crowned his insult by assigning to Csaky the place of honour at +the head of the table, next his wife, and sitting opposite to him +treated him with the most marked attention, through which there ran, +however, a vein of the most trenchant irony. And Csaky was not even able +to resent it! What must his feelings have been!</p> + +<p>As the banquet was drawing to a close and the general mirth increased +proportionately, Csaky grew more and more furious. He was sitting all +the time on burning coals, and had to smile and simper as if he liked +it. At last Banfi invented a fresh torture for him, by raising his pocal +and drinking his guest's health. Csaky was obliged to clink glasses, +drain his own to the very dregs, and endure to see Banfi laughing at him +in his sleeve all the time. Every drop he drank was so much poison to +him with that mocking laugh ringing in his ears.</p> + +<p>And all this refined torture was so delicately veiled, that it escaped +the attention of the ladies altogether.</p> + +<p>Just as the mirth was most uproarious, the folding-doors suddenly flew +wide open, and, without any previous announcement, Prince Michael Apafi, +to whom the fugitive Szantho had brought the news of Csaky's capture, +entered the room.</p> + +<p>Both ladies, with a cry of joyful surprise, hastened towards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> the +unexpected guest; but the gentlemen, perceiving from the Prince's face +that a storm was brewing, suddenly became very grave.</p> + +<p>Banfi alone preserved his usual grand seignorial gaiety, which could +even express anger with a smiling countenance. He sprang quickly from +his seat, and hastened joyfully towards the Prince.</p> + +<p>"By Heaven, a lucky coincidence! Your Highness comes to us at the very +instant that we are draining our glasses in your Highness's honour. This +is what I call an unlooked-for and most timely arrival."</p> + +<p>Apafi received this salutation with a slight nod, and leading the ladies +back to their places, sat down himself on Banfi's chair. Several of the +guests hastened to offer Banfi their seats, but the Prince beckoned him +to approach.</p> + +<p>"Your Excellency will remain standing. We would submit you to a little +friendly cross-examination."</p> + +<p>"If we are to be the judges in this case," interrupted the learned +Master Csekalusi, taking up his glass, "allow me to inform you that the +necessary preliminaries<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> have already been observed."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> A banquet was the usual prelude to judicial as to all +other public proceedings in Hungary.</p></div> + +<p>"I will be the judge," said Apafi; "although I do not quite know who is +the master at Bonczhida, myself or Denis Banfi."</p> + +<p>"The law of the land is the master of us both, your Highness," returned +Banfi.</p> + +<p>"Well answered! You would remind us that an Hungarian nobleman permits +no one to sit in judgment upon him in his own house. But this affair is +after all only a little carnival jest. At least you have been pleased to +call it so, and we will follow your example."</p> + +<p>The most anxious suspense was legible in the faces of all present: they +did not know whether the jest would end seriously or the reverse.</p> + +<p>"Your Excellency," continued Apafi, "has seized our envoy, Lord +Ladislaus Csaky, and brought him to your house by force."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Banfi, with affected astonishment, "I see it all now. Why +then did not the Count tell me at once that you had sent him to hunt in +my preserves? And besides, if your Highness had taken a fancy to some of +my game, why did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> you not let me know it? I would have shot more +excellent bucks for your Highness than any that my Lord Csaky could +catch."</p> + +<p>"This has nothing to do with bucks, my lord baron. You know very well +the ins and outs of the whole business. Don't force me to speak out +plumply before these ladies."</p> + +<p>At these words Lady Banfi would have risen, but the Princess prevented +her.</p> + +<p>"You must remain here," she whispered in her ear.</p> + +<p>"So far, I don't understand a single word," said Banfi, in an injured +tone.</p> + +<p>"No? Then we'll recall to your mind a couple of circumstances. The +peasants have caught sight of a panther in your woods."</p> + +<p>"It is possible," returned Banfi, laughing—for a Hungarian gentleman +may jest with his guests but never be rude to them, however much they +offend him—"it is possible that this panther is a descendant of those +which came into the land with Árpád,<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> and may therefore be called +ancestral panthers."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> Árpád, the primeval ancestor of the Hungarian princes, who +first led the Magyars into the plains of Hungary. He died in 907. With +Hungarians, to come in with Árpád is like our coming over with the +Conqueror.</p></div> + +<p>"It is no matter for jesting, my lord. That panther has torn a young +Wallach to pieces in the sight of several persons, wherefore I sent out +Lord Ladislaus Csaky to hunt down the beast and kill it. And Csaky had +seen the monster and was hard upon it when you met him in the forest and +stopped him."</p> + +<p>"Lord Ladislaus Csaky no doubt mistook his own tiger-skin for a +panther."</p> + +<p>"No gibes, please. The lair of the monster is discovered. Do you +understand me now?"</p> + +<p>"I understand your Highness. But 'twas a pity to put my lord Csaky to so +much inconvenience for such a trifle. So 'twas he then who discovered +the pleasure-house which I built over a hot spring among the rocks? +Well, I don't think even such a discovery as that will earn for him the +title of a Columbus."</p> + +<p>"You persist in sneering then? Will nothing make you bow your haughty +head? Suppose now I knew the secret of that mysterious cave, what +then?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>Banfi began to change colour, and he answered in a low, husky voice, +like a man who finds it very difficult not to speak the truth.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a very simple matter, sir. It was I who discovered Börvolgy; but +as soon as the rumour of the hot spring spread abroad, the public tried +to take possession of it. Now, I had also discovered a rich mineral vein +beneath the Gradina Dracului, and to prevent it from being appropriated, +I had a little private pleasure-house built there among the rocks for +the exclusive use of my wife."</p> + +<p>By these last words Banfi wished to make the Prince understand that he +ought to spare his wife, but they produced exactly the contrary effect.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you vile hypocrite!" cried the Prince, starting up and striking the +table with his clenched fist. "You would use your wife as a cloak, well +knowing all the time that you keep there a Turkish girl on whose account +the Sultan is about to ravage the land with fire and sword!"</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi uttered a piercing shriek. Her sister whispered in her ear—</p> + +<p>"Be strong! Now is the time to show what you are made of."</p> + +<p>Banfi furiously bit his lips, but controlled himself with a mighty +effort, and answered calmly—</p> + +<p>"That is not true, sir! That I deny!"</p> + +<p>"What! Not true! There are people who have seen her."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Clement, the Patrol-officer."</p> + +<p>"Clement the poet? Ah! We all know that lying is the masterpiece of +poets."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my lord baron. As you deny everything, I will try to get to +the bottom of the matter myself. I will therefore go in person to the +place in question, and if I find confirmation of that whereof you are +accused, let me tell you that a threefold punishment awaits you: first, +for the rape of the Turkish girl; next, for the violence done to a +princely messenger; and thirdly, for adultery. Each one of these deeds +is sufficient in itself to hurl you down from your presumptuous height. +My lord Csaky, lead us to this place; and you, my lord Denis Banfi, will +in the meantime remain here."</p> + +<p>Banfi stood there with a bloodless face, and his feet rooted to the +ground.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile his wife had risen from her seat, and rallying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> all her +strength with a supreme effort, stepped in front of the Prince and +said—</p> + +<p>"Sir, pardon my husband! He knows nothing of this thing—the fault is +mine—the woman whom you seek turned to me for protection in her hour of +need—and—I concealed her in that place—without my husband's +knowledge."</p> + +<p>Every word she spoke seemed to cost the pale, fragile lady superhuman +exertion. Banfi turned very red and cast down his eyes before her. The +Princess looked triumphantly at her sister and pressed her hand.</p> + +<p>"Well done!" she whispered. "That was indeed noble and heroic!"</p> + +<p>Apafi saw through the magnanimous fraud; but he was determined that +Banfi should not escape him that way, so, turning wrathfully upon him, +he exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"And you permit your wife to commit such indiscretions, which might so +easily ruin your family, nay, the realm itself? She must be punished for +it, and I therefore request you to reprimand her on the spot!"</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi, full of resignation, sank down upon her knees before her +guests, and bowed her head like a criminal awaiting punishment.</p> + +<p>"It is not my practice to correct my wife in public," murmured Banfi, +with an unsteady voice.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll do so myself," cried Apafi; and approaching the lady he +said—"You deserve, madame, to be sent to jail!"</p> + +<p>"That I would not allow, sir!" muttered Banfi between his teeth.</p> + +<p>He was now as pale as a corpse. All his blood, all his fire, seemed +concentrated in his eyes. All his muscles quivered with shame and rage.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen!" interrupted a sweet, sonorous voice. How soothingly it +sounded amidst the rough contention of angry men. It was the voice of +the Princess, who stepped between the lady and her accuser. "In former +times," she cried reproachfully, "noblemen were ever wont to respect +noble ladies."</p> + +<p>"So you are again at hand to defend those whom I attack?" cried the +Prince petulantly.</p> + +<p>"I am again at hand to prevent your Highness from committing an act of +injustice. I have always the <i>right</i> to defend my sister—but it becomes +my <i>duty</i> to do so when she is insulted!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>With these words the Princess embraced Margaret, who no sooner felt +herself in the embrace of a stronger than herself, than she lost all her +artificial strength, and sank senseless into her sister's arms.</p> + +<p>Banfi would have hastened to his wife's assistance, but Dame Apafi waved +him back.</p> + +<p>"Go!" cried she; "I'll take care of her!"</p> + +<p>"Then you mean to remain here?" said the Prince to his consort, in a +voice trembling between wrath and compassion.</p> + +<p>"My sister has need of me—and you, I see, can do without me."</p> + +<p>Apafi, ever since his wife had begun to speak, had plainly lowered his +crest, and fearing lest she might rout him altogether, he hastily +quitted the battle-field with a half triumph. He could not fail to be +very much discontented with the result of his investigation. He felt +that he had wounded Banfi in a sore place, but he also felt that the +wound was not mortal. The great nobleman had been affronted rather than +humbled. So much the worse for him! What will not bend must be broken.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VI" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVÁR.</span></h2> + + +<p>It is the fate of many a town, as of many a nation, to rise from the +dead.</p> + +<p>One people perishes there. The walls fall to pieces. The name of the +town passes into oblivion. And again there comes another people, which +builds upon the ruins, gives the place a new name; and while the old +stones, cast one upon another, seem to bewail the past, the city, +radiant with new palaces, rejoices in its youth like a flattered beauty.</p> + +<p>The hill on which Transylvania's only fortress stands was once covered +with massive buildings by Diurban's race. Who now remembers so much as +its name? The Roman legions subjected the nation, threw down the +shapeless walls, and instead of the altar dedicated to the Blood-God, +and stained with human sacrifices, there arose a temple of Vesta; the +wooden palace of the Dacian duke vanished, and the marble halls of the +proprætor took its place, with their Corinthian columns, their white +mosaic floor, their artistically carved divinities. The place was then +called <i>Colonia Apulensis</i>.</p> + +<p>Again the town grew old, fell down, and died.</p> + +<p>A new and mightier race came into it; the former inhabitants were buried +beneath the ruins of their palaces and temples, and instead of the +proprætor's palace, the gilded and enamelled dwelling of Duke Gyula,<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> +with its skittle-shaped roof, towered up like an enchanted castle from +the Thousand and One Nights, and on the ruins of the temple of Vesta the +pagan forefathers of the Magyars built altars under the open<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> sky, where +they worshipped the sun, the stars, and a naked sword. Then the town was +called Gyula-Fehervár.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Gyula</i> = Julius. The heathen Prince of Transylvania at +the end of the tenth century.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> <i>Gyula-Fehervár.</i> White Julius' town.</p></div> + +<p>A century passed, and Stephen, saint and king, cast down the altars of +the fire-worshippers, and built a vast church on the spot where so many +false gods had been adored. The sun-worshippers disappeared, and the +Christian world called the church after the name of the Archangel +Michael.</p> + +<p>What sort of church was it?—Nobody can now tell! Two centuries later +the Tartars came, levelled town and church with the ground, and put the +population to the sword. On their departure they gave to the town the +scornful nickname Nigra-Julia.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> <i>Nigra Julia.</i> Black Julia.</p></div> + +<p>Our nation's greatest man, John Hunniady, rebuilt it. Traces of his huge +Gothic arches may still be found there. In the crypt, built at the same +time, all the Princes of Transylvania were buried in richly-carved +sarcophagi. Here <i>rested</i> Hunniady himself and his headless son +Ladislaus.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> They <i>rested</i> here, but only for a time. Robber-hordes +came and scattered the sacred relics, and devastated the church, and the +succeeding princes who patched it up again during the Turkish dominion, +added to the Gothic groundwork the peculiarities of Arab architecture, +serpentine columns, and Moorish arabesques.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <i>Ladislaus Hunniady.</i> The eldest son of the great hero, +treacherously beheaded in 1456.</p></div> + +<p>And last of all came the renovations and restorations of modern +times—four-cornered towers, with little low windows and shapeless +portals. The arabesques were all white-washed, and where here and there +the mortar falls from the walls, you may catch a glimpse of the stones +with which the church was originally built, relics of every age which +has visited the place and vanished tracklessly. Here sculptured +fragments of the old Mythra cultus; there mutilated Vestals. Below, the +top of an ancient altar with the broken symbol of a sun upon it; above, +florid and fantastic arabesques.</p> + +<p>And again the town lost its name.</p> + +<p>They call it now Karoly-Fehervár.<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> <i>Karoly-Fehervár.</i> White Charles' town. German: +Karlsburg.</p></div> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>At the time in which our story is laid, this town was the place where +the Princes of Transylvania used to be consecrated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> and the Diets to be +held. Where the episcopal palace now stands stood then the Prince's +residence, restored by John Sigismund,<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> with marble inlaid chambers, +and walls covered with battle-pieces in fresco. The great hall where the +Diet met was separated from the surrounding chambers by a balustrade of +tinted marble. Round about the walls hung the busts of princes and +woywodes interspersed with trophies. In front stood the throne covered +with purple, and round about it a triumphal baldachin made of banners, +shields, and morning-stars.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> John Sigismund Zapolya (1540-1571), with whom the line of +the Transylvanian princes began.</p></div> + +<p>The rest of the town was scarcely in keeping with the pomp of the +Prince's residence, for in 1618 the Diet had been obliged to command the +inhabitants to cease dwelling in tents, and build up their ruinous +houses again.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The Estates of the Realm have already assembled. Every one is in his +place. Only the seat of the Prince is still vacant.</p> + +<p>There they sit in order of precedence—the Transylvanian patricians, the +heads of the Hungarian nobility, the most eminent in wit, wealth, and +valour—the Bethlens, the Csakys, the Lazars, the Kemenys, the Mikeses, +the Banfis!—those mediæval clans whose will is the nation's, whose +deeds form its history, whose ancestors, grandfathers and fathers, have +either perished on the battle-field in defence of their princes, or on +the scaffold for defying them. And their descendants loyally follow +their examples. A new prince comes to the throne, and they take up again +the swords which have fallen from their fathers' hands—to wield it for +or against him, as Fate may decree.</p> + +<p>The Szekler deputies with their homely garb and sullen, dogged faces, +and the Saxon burghers with their simple, round, red countenances, and +their primeval German costume, form a striking contrast to the dashing +and resplendent Hungarian magnates.</p> + +<p>The mob assembled in the galleries and behind the barrier presents a +most motley picture. Many amongst it can be seen pointing out the +celebrities to their neighbours, or shaking their fists at the deputies +they dislike.</p> + +<p>At last a flourish of trumpets announces that the Prince has arrived. +The pages throw open the doors. The crowd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> shouts "Eljen!" His Highness +appears surrounded by his court.</p> + +<p>Denis Banfi, as Marshal of the Diet, leads the way, with the national +standard in his right hand. Beside him is Paul Beldi of Uzoni, who, as +Captain-General of the Szeklers, bears the mace. Behind them comes the +Prime Minister, Master Michael Teleki, bringing with him in a silken +case the Imperial <i>athname</i>: all three gentlemen are in gorgeous robes +of state. In the midst walks the Prince himself, in a magnificent green +velvet kaftan and an ermine embroidered hat: he holds the sceptre in his +hand. Around and behind him throng the foreign ambassadors, foremost +among whom stand the Sultan's envoy in a robe sparkling with diamonds; +Forval, the Minister of Louis XIV., a sleek, courtly man, with silken +ribbons in his dolman, gold lace on his hat, and a richly-embossed +sword-scabbard; his colleague, the Abbé Reverend, with a smiling +countenance, his lilac surplice fastened by a purple sash; and +Sobieski's minister, wearing a <i>bekesch</i> with divided sleeves, which so +closely resembles the Magyar costume.</p> + +<p>All these dignitaries now take their places. The ambassadors remain +behind the Prince's throne; and while the long and tedious protocols of +the last Diet are being read, many of them engage in conversation with +the lords behind the barrier.</p> + +<p>Among these latter we perceive Nicholas Bethlen, the young Transylvanian +whose acquaintance we made a long time ago in Zrinyi's hunting suite. He +is now a vivacious and sensible young man, having spent his youth in +travelling through all the civilized countries of Europe, cultivating +the acquaintance of their most famous men, and even of their princes, +and appropriating the progressive ideas of the age, without losing +anything of his national peculiarities. The French themselves tell us +that it was he who first acquainted them with the hussar's uniform, and +that the dolman he wore at Versailles served Louis XIV. as a pattern for +equipping his first Hussar regiments.</p> + +<p>When Bethlen caught sight of Forval, whom he had learnt to know in +Paris, he hastened to his side and greeted him heartily.</p> + +<p>"You'll lose the thread of the discussion," said Forval, hearing that +something was being read, but not knowing what.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>"So far, they can get on without me. The bills now before the house +merely regulate how many dishes should be set before servants; or +discuss the best method of compelling poor people to grow rich enough to +pay more taxes. When the real business of the day begins you will find +me also in my place."</p> + +<p>"Then tell me in the meantime who are the capable men here, and who are +not. You know everything about Transylvania." Forval had only just +arrived there.</p> + +<p>"Such a classification is by no means an easy one," returned Bethlen. +"Formerly, when I was a party man myself, and had seen no country but my +own, I was quite convinced that all the members of my own party were +honest men, and all its opponents scoundrels without exception; but now +that I have severed party ties, and seen a little of the world, I begin +to perceive that a man may be a good patriot, an honest man, a valiant +warrior, or the reverse, whether he belongs to the Right or the Left. +Everything depends on the point of view you take. However, as you desire +it, I will give you my own views of the state of parties, you can then +draw your own conclusions. That proud man on the right of the Prince is +Denis Banfi; the one on the left is Paul Beldi. They are the two most +eminent men in the land, and both are determined opponents of the war it +is proposed to commence; in all else they are adversaries, but on this +one point they are inseparable. Banfi seems to be in league with the +Emperor, Beldi with the Turk. In their opinion Transylvania is strong +enough to drive back every invader of her territories, but not strong +enough to play the invader herself. Now cast a glance at that baldish +man on the left of the Prince. That is Michael Teleki. 'Tis the genius +of that man which alone keeps the other two in check. He is a near +relative of the Princess, and would renew here the war which has been +the ruin of the national party in Hungary. The trial of strength between +those three men will be an interesting spectacle."</p> + +<p>"And if the peace party should prevail?"</p> + +<p>"Then the nation will have declared for peace."</p> + +<p>"And the Prince cannot go against it?"</p> + +<p>"Here, my friend, we are not at the Court of Versailles, where a Prince +may venture to say, '<i>L'état—c'est moi!</i>' Each of those three men has +as much authority here as the Prince, and their authority is one with +his. But let him only try to act against the will of the nation, and he +will soon become<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> aware that he stands alone. So, again, those great +nobles would remain isolated if they undertook anything in opposition to +the Diet."</p> + +<p>"Be candid now. Do you think the war party will prevail?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely this time. I do not yet see the man who can bring a war about. +Amongst the whole Hungarian party there is no one fit to become the +ideal of a martial nation. Zrinyi has perished. Rakoczi has deserted it. +Teleki knows how to overthrow but not how to create parties. Besides, he +is no warrior, and it is a warrior that they want. He represents cold +reason, and here there is need of a soul of fire. He has no <i>mission</i> to +fight for Hungary, but only a political interest. One of the Hungarian +magnates, that moustacheless youth yonder, Emerich Tököli, has lately +sued for his daughter's hand in order to engage the father in his +interests. Mark my words. That young man has a career before him. His +one idea is power—and Fortune is fickle, and her instruments are many."</p> + +<p>This cold consultation was somewhat distasteful to Forval. Meanwhile the +tiresome recitation of the protocols had come to an end, and Bethlen +took his seat.</p> + +<p>The Prince very sulkily informed the Estates that the reason he had +summoned them would now be explained to them by Master Michael Teleki; +then, wrapping himself in his kaftan, he leaned negligently back in the +depths of his huge arm-chair.</p> + +<p>Teleki stood up, waited until the applause of the crowd had subsided, +then, casting a calm look upon Banfi, thus began—</p> + +<p>"Worshipful and valiant Orders and Estates! The recent events in Hungary +are well known to you all, and if you did not know them, you need only +cast a glance around you, and the sad, despairing faces with which your +assembly has been augmented would tell their own tale. These are our +unfortunate Hungarian brethren, once the flower of the nation, now its +withered leaves, which the storm has scattered far and wide. You have +not denied your kinsmen in their adversity; you have shared hearth and +home with them; you have mingled your tears with theirs. But oh! they +have not turned to us for the bread of charity, or for womanly +lamentations. Thou, Bocskai,<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> thou, Bethlen,<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> whose images now +look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> down upon us from these walls with dumb reproaches; whose +victorious, dust-stained banners wave around the throne, why can you not +rise up again in our midst to seize those banners, and thunder in the +ears of an irresolute generation—The banished beg of you a country, the +houseless a home?"</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Stephan Bocskai, Prince of Transylvania, 1605-1606. A +great statesman and warrior.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Gabriel Bethlen, the wisest of all the Transylvanian +princes. He reigned 1601-1629.</p></div> + +<p>Here Teleki paused as if awaiting applause, but every one remained +perfectly silent; mere rhetoric did not affect that Assembly in the +least. Teleki saw his mistake, and instantly changed his tactics.</p> + +<p>"You reply to my words by silence. Am I to take it that <i>qui tacet, +negat</i>? I'll never believe that your hearts are too cold to be fired. +You only hesitate because you would count up your forces. But let me +tell you that we shall not take the field alone. The sight of our +despoiled churches and our enslaved clergy has called all the Protestant +princes of Europe to arms. Even the Belgian King, whom our fate concerns +least of all, has rescued our brethren in the faith from the Neapolitan +galleys; nor has the sword of Gustavus Adolphus grown rusty in its +sheath. Nay, more, even the most Catholic of princes, even the followers +of Mahommed, are ready to assist our cause. Behold the King of France, +at this moment the mightiest ruler in Europe, raising troops for us, not +only in his own land, but in Poland also; and, if necessary, the Sultan +certainly will not scruple to break a peace that was forced upon him; or +he will, at the very least, place his frontier troops at our disposal. +And when all around us we hear the din of battle, when every one grasps +the sword, shall we alone leave ours in its scabbard, we who owe so much +to our brethren and to ourselves? What happened to them yesterday may +happen to us to-morrow, and what country will then offer us a refuge? +Therefore, my fellow-patriots, hearken to the prayers of the banished as +if you stood in their places; for I tell you, that a time may come when +you will be as they are now; and as you treat them now, so will Destiny +treat you then!"</p> + +<p>Teleki had done. He fixed his eyes on Denis Banfi as if he knew +beforehand that he would be the first to reply to him.</p> + +<p>Banfi arose. It was plain that he was making a great effort to keep +within bounds and speak dispassionately.</p> + +<p>"My noble colleagues!" he began, in an unusually calm voice. "Compassion +towards unfortunate kinsmen and hatred of ancient foes are sentiments +which become a man; but in politics there is no room for sentiment. In +this place we are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> neither kinsmen, nor friends, nor yet foes; we are +simply and solely patriots, whose first duty it is to coolly calculate, +for, to say nothing of the joy or grief resulting from it, the fate of a +whole land depends upon the issue of our deliberations. Now the question +before us is really this: Are we to stake the existence of Transylvania +for the sake of Hungary? Are we to shed our blood for the sake of +raising her from the dead? Listen not to your hearts, they can only +feel—'tis the head that thinks. Just now there is peace in +Transylvania. The people are beginning to be happy; the towns are rising +from their ashes; the mourning weeds are gradually being laid aside, and +ears of corn are ripening on fields of blood. At present the Magyar is +his own master in Transylvania. No stranger, no adversary, no protector +exacts tribute from him. None may interfere in our deliberations. The +neighbouring powers are obliged to protect us, and we are not obliged to +do them homage for it. Reflect well upon all this ere you stake +everything on one cast of the die! Would you again see all Transylvania +turned into a huge battle-field, and your vassals transformed into an +army, perhaps not even a victorious army? And even if our hosts were +sufficient, who is there to lead them? None of us has inherited the +genius of a Bethlen or of a Bocskai; neither I, nor Master Teleki. And +then again, whom can we trust besides ourselves? The capricious Louis +XIV. perhaps? His policy can be changed every moment by a pair of bright +eyes. If we depended only on him, a petty Versailles intrigue might +leave us in the lurch when we most required assistance."</p> + +<p>Here Forval coughed to conceal his annoyance.</p> + +<p>"As for Sobieski," continued Banfi, "depend upon it he will not attack +his present ally the Emperor for our sweet sakes; nor will the Sultan +break his oath as lightly as Master Michael Teleki seems to imagine. +What then remains for us to do? Call the nomadic Tartars into Hungary, I +suppose! The poor Hungarian population would certainly express their +gratitude for such assistance as that! Your ideal Hungarian, Nicolas +Zrinyi, used to tell a tale which deserves to be handed down to our +latest posterity. The devil was carrying a Szekler away on his back. The +Szekler's neighbour met and thus accosted him: 'Whither away, gossip?' +'I am being carried to hell,' said he. 'Eh! but that is a very bad job,' +returned the other. 'Yes, but it might be much worse,' replied the +rogue. 'Just fancy if he were to sit on my back, dig his spurs into me, +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> compel me to carry him instead!'—Let every one apply this fable as +he thinks best. For my part, I cannot quite decide which I fear the +most, the enmity of the Emperor or the amity of the Sultan. For, tell +me, what will be the end of this war? If we conquer with the aid of the +Sultan, Transylvania will become a Turkish Pachalic; if we are +conquered, we shall sink into an Austrian province, while now we are a +free and independent State by the grace of God! In any case Hungary's +fate is bound to improve, and that fate touches my heart quite as much +as theirs who fancy they can heal the sick man with the sword. But +nothing is to be won in that way. How much blood has not already been +shed without the slightest result? Let us try some other way. Surely the +Magyar has sense enough to subdue by his intellectual superiority those +whom he cannot overcome by force of arms? Subdue your conquerors, I say. +You who are second to none in sense, energy, wealth, and the beauty of +manliness, why do you not take the highest posts which belong to you of +right? If you were to sit where the Pázmáns<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> and the Esterhazys<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> +have sat, there would be no room left for a Lobkovich.<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> If instead of +fighting petty, fruitless battles now and then, you were to use your +intellects and your influence, you might make your land happy without +costing her a drop of blood. It rests with you to restore once more the +age of Louis the Great,<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> that foreign prince who became enamoured of +his adopted people, turned Magyar, and made the nation as great and as +powerful as the nation made him. The Estates of Transylvania will +undertake to mediate between Hungary and the Emperor, and so get you +back your privileges and your possessions. I will be the first to +stretch out a helping hand, and assuredly Master Michael Teleki will be +the second. If, however, you do not accept this offer, then, I say, +beware of what you do. As to the prophecy—Our turn to-day, yours +to-morrow! I'll only say, Fear nothing for Transylvania. I'll be bold to +say, that whoever invades her by force of arms, will always find a host +of equal strength ready to meet him; but let me tell you, that that same +host will never be so foolhardy as to invade a foreign land."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Cardinal Peter Pázmán (1570-1637), a famous Hungarian +patriot and statesman.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> The celebrated Nicholas Esterhazy of Galanta, Palatine of +Hungary.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Lobkovich (Eusebius Vincent), Leopold I.'s prime minister +(1670-73), who attempted to make the Emperor absolute in Hungary.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Louis the Great, King of Hungary, 1342-1381.</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>"Then Hungary is to you a foreign land?" cried a mocking voice from the +crowd.</p> + +<p>This interruption was too much for Banfi's composure. He turned +furiously towards the quarter whence the question came, and meeting the +cold, contemptuous looks of the Hungarians assembled there, he quite +forgot himself; everything around him seemed to be in a whirl, and +dashing his kalpag to the ground, he cried—</p> + +<p>"Right, right—indeed! A foreign land—nay more, a stepmother you have +always been to us. We have always had to suffer for your sins. We have +won victories, and you have frittered away the fruits of our victories. +Your discords have thrice brought Hungary low, and thrice have we raised +her from the dust. We have given you heroes; you have given us +traitors!"</p> + +<p>These last words Banfi was obliged to roar out at the top of his voice +to make himself heard above the ever-increasing din. The uproar was +general. Every one tried to shout down his neighbour. The Hungarian +gentlemen sprang from their seats and reviled Banfi. The graver members +of the peace party shook their heads when they saw how Banfi's +indiscretion had let loose the passions of the Assembly.</p> + +<p>Beldi now arose. All lovers of order cried at once—"Let us hear Beldi!"</p> + +<p>Then a young man suddenly leaped over the barrier, and placing his hand +on Teleki's arm-chair, planted himself in front of Banfi with a flushed +and defiant face. It was Emerich Tököli.</p> + +<p>"I too have got a word to say," cried he, in a voice audible above the +tumult. "I also have the right to say a word or two within this barrier. +If you will deny your mother, Hungary, and draw boundaries between her +and you, it is time for me to speak. I am just as good a territorial +noble here in Transylvania as that proud and petty demigod, whose father +before him was just such another reviler of his mother country!"</p> + +<p>Beldi was making his way towards Tököli to stop him from speaking, when +some one from behind seized his hand, and turning round, he was +astonished to see his own son-in-law, Paul Wesselenyi, who begged him to +step outside for a moment.</p> + +<p>Beldi retired into the lobby, while Tököli's voice thundered through the +hall above the never-ending din.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>A veiled lady awaited Beldi in the lobby, whom, when she had unveiled +her face, he had some difficulty in recognizing as his daughter Sophia, +so much had grief and care changed and broken her. Her beautiful eyes +were red with weeping.</p> + +<p>"We are homeless fugitives," sobbed Sophia, sinking on her father's +breast. "They have taken from us our Hungarian possessions; my husband +has been driven from his castle, and a price set on his head."</p> + +<p>Beldi became very serious. This unexpected ill-tidings pricked him to +the heart. Within, Tököli's thundering voice was raising a perfect +tempest of indignation, but Beldi no longer made haste back to quell it.</p> + +<p>"Remain with me," said he, with a troubled countenance; "here you can +dwell in peace till things improve."</p> + +<p>"Too late!" said Wesselenyi. "I have already enlisted under the flag of +the French General, Count Boham, as a common soldier."</p> + +<p>"You a common soldier! You, the descendant of the Palatine Wesselenyi! +And what in the meantime is to become of my daughter?"</p> + +<p>"She will remain behind with you—till Hungary has been won back again!" +and with these words he placed his wife in Beldi's arms, kissed her on +the forehead, and departed with dry eyes.</p> + +<p>Within raged the tumult. Beldi heard his daughter sobbing, and a bitter +feeling began to fill his breast, a feeling not unlike a nascent desire +of vengeance. He felt almost pleased that war was being demanded within +there; and he, the leader of the peace party, was also just about to +draw his sword, rush into the Diet, and exclaim—"War! war! and +retribution!" when the pages led into the lobby an old man as pale as +death, who, recognizing Beldi, staggered up to him and addressed him in +a trembling voice—</p> + +<p>"My lord, are you not the Captain-General of the Szeklers, Paul Beldi of +Uzoni?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. What do you want with me?"</p> + +<p>"I am the last inhabitant of Benfalva!" stammered the dying man. "War, +famine, and pestilence have carried off all the others. I alone remain, +and feeling that I too am on the point of death, I have brought you the +official seal of the place and the church bell. Give them to the Diet. +Preserve them in the archives, and write over them—'These are the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> bell +and the seal of what was once Benfalva, the inhabitants of which utterly +perished.'"</p> + +<p>Beldi's nerveless arm dropped the hilt of his sword, and he tore himself +from his daughter's embrace.</p> + +<p>"Go to your mother at Bodola, and learn to bear your fate with a stout +heart!"</p> + +<p>Then he took the seal and the bell from the dying man, and hastened back +to the hall of the Diet, where Tököli had just finished his speech, +which had produced a terrible effect on the Assembly. The French +ministers were shaking hands with him.</p> + +<p>Beldi stepped up to the president's table, and placed upon it the seal +which had just been handed to him.</p> + +<p>Every one looked at him, and seeing that he was about to speak, became +silent.</p> + +<p>"Look!" cried he, with a voice broken by emotion. "A desolated town +sends its official seal to the Diet by its last inhabitant. There are +already enough of such towns in Transylvania, and in time there may be +more. War and famine have wasted the fairest portions of our land. You +should not forget, gentlemen, to place this seal among your +other—trophies!"</p> + +<p>At these last words Beldi's voice sank almost to a whisper, yet so deep +was the silence, that he was heard distinctly in every part of the hall. +A thrill of horror passed through every one present.</p> + +<p>"Outside that door I hear some one weeping," continued Beldi, with +quivering lips. "It is my own dear daughter, the wife of Paul +Wesselenyi, who, driven from her fatherland, on her knees implored me, +as I loved her, to let the <i>lex talionis</i> assert its rights. But I say, +let my child weep, let her perish, may I also perish with my whole +family if need be, but let not the curse of war fall on Transylvania! +May no one in Transylvania have cause to weep because I suffer. No! I +would declare against war though every one here present were for it.... +Gentlemen!... this seal ... and the other relic too ... forget not to +preserve them among your trophies!"</p> + +<p>Beldi sat down. Long after his words had ceased to sound, a death-like +silence continued to prevail.</p> + +<p>Teleki, ascribing this silence to indignation against Beldi, very +confidently arose, and bade the Estates give their votes. But for once +he had wrongly felt the pulse of public opinion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> for the majority of +the Diet, deeply touched by the foregoing scene, voted for peace. So +great was still the influence of Banfi and Beldi in the land.</p> + +<p>Teleki looked with some confusion at his future son-in-law, who clenched +his fists, and murmured bitterly with tears in his eyes—</p> + +<p>"Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo!"</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>As the Assembly broke up, Forval and Nicholas Bethlen again met +together.</p> + +<p>"So our hope that Transylvania will take up arms has been dashed," +observed the crestfallen Frenchman.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, our hope only now begins," returned Bethlen, tapping +his friend on the shoulder. "Did you hear that young man Tököli speak?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he spoke very prettily."</p> + +<p>"Prettily or not, it strikes me that he is just the man you seek."</p> + +<p>"A King of Hungary, eh?"<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Tököli (Emerich), the most extraordinary Hungarian of his +day, famous for his marvellous courage and beauty, his adventures and +vicissitudes. In 1682 the Turks proclaimed him Prince of Hungary, and +for the next five years he disputed possession of that country with the +Emperor. After being twice thrown in prison by the Sultan, he was +released and proclaimed Prince of Transylvania, but, after many +successes, was finally obliged to fly to Turkey. He was excluded by name +from the general amnesty at the Peace of Lovicz, 1697, between the Turks +and the Emperor; but the Sultan made him Count of Widdin and one of his +chief counsellors. He died in 1705 at Nicomedia in Bithynia. He married +Helen Zrinyi, who accompanied him everywhere with heroic fidelity.</p></div> + +<p>"Either that or an outlaw. Fate will decide."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VII" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE JUS LIGATUM.</span><a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></h2> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> <i>Jus ligatum.</i> The right of conspiring secretly against an +offender unreachable by the ordinary law.</p></div> + +<p>'Tis a good old custom which requires that every ceremony should end +with a feast, and so the boisterous Diet was succeeded by a still more +boisterous banquet, whereat Michael Apafi also presided; and here he was +in his proper place, for the chronicles tell us that a skin of wine at a +sitting was a mere nothing to his Highness.</p> + +<p>Wine inflames hate as well as love. When ladies are at table, we must +look to our hearts; but when only men sit down together, our heads are +often in danger.</p> + +<p>After dinner, according to Transylvanian custom, the guests stood up to +drink. Conversation flows more easily thus, and the Prince, going the +round of his guests, presented to them an overflowing beaker with his +own hand, challenging them one by one to drain it—"Come, a toast—my +health, the welfare of the realm, and whatever else you like!"</p> + +<p>The gentlemen were in high good-humour, and kept falling out with each +other and making it up again from sheer lightness of heart. Only one man +was quite sober—Michael Teleki, who never drank at all.</p> + +<p>Beware of the man who keeps sober while every one else is in his cups.</p> + +<p>Teleki went about among the wrangling roysterers, and lingered for a +long time round Banfi's chair. When the magnate caught sight of him, +creeping about like a cat, he turned sharply round upon him.</p> + +<p>"Why, how sad you look!" he cried, with a mocking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> laugh; "just like a +man whose coveted palatinate falls into the dust before his eyes."</p> + +<p>That was all Teleki wanted.</p> + +<p>With a smile, beneath which there lurked a deadly sting, he replied—</p> + +<p>"That is no merit of yours. If Paul Beldi had not been present, you +would have been left all alone with your vote. But I must confess that +we all bow before such a distinguished man as Paul Beldi. The whole +nation cries Amen! to whatever he says."</p> + +<p>Teleki then bowed low, with a semblance of deep respect, well aware that +he had sent a venomous shaft into the proud magnate's heart, for nothing +wounded Banfi so much as to see some one honoured above himself, +especially some one who really deserved it.</p> + +<p>Teleki next turned to Beldi, drew him into a window-niche, and thus +began in his suavest manner—</p> + +<p>"I had always held your Excellency for a very magnanimous man, but +to-day I learnt to recognize you as doubly such, though it was to my own +detriment. The Diet only knows that in voting for peace you sacrificed +your fatherly affection; but <i>I</i> know that at the same time you +sacrificed your hatred of Banfi."</p> + +<p>"I?—I have never hated Banfi."</p> + +<p>"I know why you conceal your hatred. You fancy that no one knows your +secret reasons for it. My friend, we men know well that a sword-thrust +may be forgiven, but a <i>kiss</i> never."</p> + +<p>Beldi started. He knew not what reply to make to this man, who, after +planting the sting of jealousy in his heart, quitted him with a smiling +countenance, leaving the wound to rankle.</p> + +<p>At that moment Banfi appeared behind Beldi's back with his haughtiest +air. He was burning to make Beldi feel his haughtiness, and was thinking +how he could best pick a quarrel with him.</p> + +<p>Beldi at first did not perceive him, and when the Prince, chancing to +stray into that part of the room, holding a costly pocal set with +turquoises, which he affably extended, saying familiarly—"Drink, my +cousin!" Beldi, fancying that the invitation was meant for him, and +never suspecting that any one was behind him, took the cup out of the +Prince's hand, and drained it to his Highness's health, at the very +moment when Banfi also held out his hand towards it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>Banfi, purple with rage, turned furiously upon Beldi, and said in his +most insulting tone—</p> + +<p>"Not so fast, Szekler. You might, I think, have a little more respect +for the Marshal of the Diet, and not snatch away the cup from beneath my +very nose. Let me tell you, sir, that if you persist in such courses, +you and I shall fall out!"</p> + +<p>Beldi was anything but a quarrelsome man. Had he been in another frame +of mind, he would simply have apologized for his mistake. But now he too +was in a pugnacious mood, so, calmly measuring Banfi from head to foot, +he replied with suppressed rage—</p> + +<p>"Yes, Denis, I am a Szekler, as you say, and a tough one too; and if it +came to a bout between us, and I fell uppermost, I'd give you such a +squeeze that you'd never raise your head again in this world."</p> + +<p>"Come, come! What's all this nonsense about?" cried the Prince, +intervening. "I'm surprised at you, gentlemen! <i>Inter pocula non sunt +seria tractanda.</i>" And, with that, Apafi compelled the two magnates to +shake hands with each other, and then passed on, thinking that the whole +affair was a mere drunken brawl, and that he had put it right.</p> + +<p>But it did not escape Teleki that, immediately after this scene, both +the magnates quitted the room, and he learnt soon afterwards that they +had suddenly left Fehervár, thus leaving the field clear for him.</p> + +<p>Teleki and his satellites remained alone with the half-besotted Prince.</p> + +<p>"Drink, gentlemen! drink! be merry!" cried Apafi. "Don't drop off one by +one! Who last went out there?"</p> + +<p>"Beldi!" cried several voices.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I understand! The poor fellow has not seen his wife for a long +time. Let him go. And who else has gone?"</p> + +<p>"Banfi!"</p> + +<p>"What? Banfi too? What's the meaning of that?"</p> + +<p>"He has gone to lord it at home?" sneered Szekely, one of Teleki's +creatures.</p> + +<p>"He can't endure to be anywhere where there is a greater than he," put +in Nalaczi.</p> + +<p>"I certainly shall not resign the princely diadem to please his +Excellency!" cried Apafi.</p> + +<p>"That is not necessary!" insinuated Teleki. "He knows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> how to rule in +Transylvania without an <i>athname</i>. When he commands the country must +obey, and what the country commands he contemptuously rejects."</p> + +<p>"I should like to see him do it!" murmured Apafi angrily.</p> + +<p>"But is it not so? We want war, he doesn't, and we must give way. We +want peace, and he is immediately up and waging war against our allies +on his own account. The throne is ours, the realm is his!"</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Master Michael Teleki!"</p> + +<p>"I appeal to you, Nalaczi! What answer did he give in the Zolyomi +affair?"</p> + +<p>"He said that if the country wished him to surrender the Gyulai property +to Zolyomi, it must give him in exchange the domain of Szamos-Ujvar."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Prince, "the property which the Estates gave to me for +my maintenance! My princely domains! The man must be mad!"</p> + +<p>"So he said, adding that he would not surrender the property even if +Zolyomi saddled us with the Turks in consequence."</p> + +<p>"Well, now we've had enough of him. Not a word more about it, +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"The insult to the Turks your Highness might overlook," persisted +Teleki, "but we really cannot look through our fingers any longer at the +way in which he treats the gentry. The latest victim of his tyranny is +Lady Saint Pauli. The poor widow's ancestral dwelling was an eyesore to +the great lord, because it spoiled the prospect from his palace windows; +so he had the house appraised at his own valuation, and turned the poor +lady out of doors. The magistrate gave her a letter of indemnity, but my +Lord-Marshal tore the letter to pieces, and pulled down the poor widow's +sole possession, her ancestral dwelling-place. The Diet, he said, might +build it up again if it felt so disposed. Such an act, sir, in ordinary +times has been known to cost the doer thereof his head!"</p> + +<p>Apafi was silent, but his bloodshot eyes began to glow savagely.</p> + +<p>"But that is not all," continued Teleki; "outrages on individuals are of +small account when the security of the whole realm is at stake. This +great lord can speak very prettily about the blessings of peace, let us +see now how he labours to uphold it. He takes the sword out of our hands +and closes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> our mouths, while he himself collects an army and goads the +Turk against us, well knowing that we have no money wherewith to buy the +gifts necessary to counteract his vagaries. Now, three letters have +reached us simultaneously—one from the Pasha of Grosswardein, another +from the Pasha of Buda, and a third from the Sultan himself—demanding +instant satisfaction, or an indemnity of three hundred purses of gold, +for the defeat which the Pasha of Grosswardein has suffered at Banfi's +hands. As, however, we cannot expect Banfi to pay the indemnity, will it +please your Highness to consider from whence such a large sum of money +is to be procured?"</p> + +<p>"From nowhither!" cried Apafi furiously, smashing his glass to pieces on +the table. "I'll show the world that I'm able to exact satisfaction from +whomsoever I will, let him be even as mighty again as Denis Banfi."</p> + +<p>"Then I wish your Highness would tell us how, for we know that Banfi +will not appear to our summons, and we cannot compel him, for he has +shown himself stronger than the whole realm. If we attempted to use +force he would call out the banderia and the garrison troops, and then +it might fare with us as it fared with Ladislaus Csaky—he would arrest +the officers sent to arrest him, and expose us to universal derision."</p> + +<p>"As our first counsellor, it is your province to give us good counsel in +such cases," cried Apafi wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"I only know of one remedy capable of curing the realm thoroughly of +this disease."</p> + +<p>"Then prescribe it. In what does your remedy consist?"</p> + +<p>"In the <i>jus ligatum</i>."</p> + +<p>Apafi, despite his semi-besotted state, instinctively shrunk back from +such an expedient, and throwing himself into his arm-chair, looked +blankly at Teleki.</p> + +<p>"Are you not ashamed of yourself," he murmured in broken sentences, as +tipsy people usually do, "to propose a secret conspiracy against a free +nobleman? To privily conspire against him is contrary to the law of the +land."</p> + +<p>"It is not my fault if the expedient is shameful," returned Teleki +calmly and steadfastly; "but it is shameful that the law should not +possess sufficient power to bring a rebel to book, and that one of our +own subjects should be able to openly defy justice and laugh at the +decrees of the Prince. If in such a state of things the <i>jus ligatum</i> is +our only means of defence, the shame falls not upon me but upon the +Prince."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>Apafi rose angrily from his seat and paced to and fro. The lords +remained perfectly silent.</p> + +<p>At last the Prince stopped short in front of Teleki, and, leaning on the +back of his arm-chair, asked him—</p> + +<p>"And how then do you propose to bring about this league?"</p> + +<p>Nalaczi and Szekely exchanged a smile. It was plain that the idea had +caught the Prince's fancy. Teleki beckoned to Szekely to fetch him +writing materials and a strip of parchment.</p> + +<p>"We will quickly draw up the necessary articles of impeachment; your +Highness will subscribe them, and we'll secretly persuade the great men +of the land to consent to Banfi's arrest and join the league before any +legal steps have been taken."</p> + +<p>At these words many of the gentlemen present began to bite their +moustaches and move uneasily in their chairs.</p> + +<p>Teleki observed the movement, and added emphatically—</p> + +<p>"I perceive that no one here has the courage to put down his name first +on the list. Nevertheless I have already found a man, who in dignity and +power is every whit Banfi's equal, and when once he has subscribed the +list, the other signatures will follow as a matter of course."</p> + +<p>"And who may that be?" asked Apafi.</p> + +<p>"Paul Beldi!"</p> + +<p>The Prince shook his head.</p> + +<p>"He won't do it. He is much too honourable a man for that."</p> + +<p>Wine-inspired as this sentence was, it completely ruffled Teleki's +equanimity. Turning vehemently upon the Prince he cried—</p> + +<p>"Then you mean to imply that <i>we</i> are acting dishonourably?"</p> + +<p>"I meant to say that Beldi is never very willing to pick a quarrel with +anybody. He is a peace-abiding man."</p> + +<p>"But I know his sore point, and if you but touch it with the tip of your +finger, he'll answer with his clenched fist, and the lamb will become a +lion. I'll get him to——"</p> + +<p>At that moment the door opened, and, to every one's astonishment, the +Princess entered the room.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, her appearance at this time was no freak of chance. You +could see by her agitation that she was well aware of what was going on. +The lords were confused, and Apafi, despite his tipsy wrath, became so +frightened when he beheld the pale face of his consort that he whispered +to Teleki<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake put that document out of sight."</p> + +<p>Only Teleki kept his countenance, and instead of hiding the parchment, +ostentatiously spread it out before him.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" asked the Princess. She was very pale, and her +bosom heaved tempestuously.</p> + +<p>"We are holding a council," replied Teleki grimly.</p> + +<p>"A council?" repeated Anna, approaching nearer and nearer to the table.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and we venture to ask your Highness by what right you intrude +here, while we are deliberating over the most momentous affairs of +state?" continued Teleki in a hard, dry tone.</p> + +<p>"Deliberating over the most momentous affairs of state, eh?" repeated +the lady, measuring Teleki with a searching look. Then with a loud, +vibrating voice she exclaimed—"What mean these wine-cups then? You are +holding a council of state when the head of the state is drunk, that you +may sow discord and confusion."</p> + +<p>Teleki sprang from his seat and turned towards the Prince—</p> + +<p>"May it please your Highness to dismiss us. We perceive that a domestic +scene is about to begin."</p> + +<p>"Anna!" cried Apafi, scarlet with shame and wine, "leave the room this +instant. We command it—and for a week to come do not presume to appear +in our presence."</p> + +<p>"Be it so, Apafi. I have nothing more to say to you, for you are not +yourself; but to you, Mr. Chief-Counsellor, to you who are always sober, +I have a word to say. I raised you from the dust; I helped you into the +place where now you stand; you requite me by thrusting yourself between +me and the Prince's heart, for I find you in my way every time I +approach my husband. You have taken the sceptre out of the Prince's +hand, and have substituted for it the headsman's sword; but let me tell +you that if I cannot reach the Prince's heart, I can, at least, step in +the way of the sword, and as often as it descends, you will find me +between the stroke and the victim!—And ye! Nalaczi and Szekely, +ennobled lackeys as you are, who cannot explain to yourselves how you +became great lords, reflect that the wheel of Fortune debases as often +as it exalts, and that as you treat others to-day so may others treat +you to-morrow. And I say to you all, ye noble cavaliers, who seek your +courage in your cups, bethink you and tremble at the thought, that not +wine but innocent blood is foaming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> in the beakers that you hold in your +hands! Shame, shame upon you all! who give wine to the Prince in order +to ask blood of him. And now your Highness may add a couple of weeks to +my term of banishment."</p> + +<p>With these words, the Princess rapidly left the room. The lords were +dumb, and dared not look at each other. But Teleki got up, closed the +door, dipped his pen in the inkhorn, and said—</p> + +<p>"And now we will go on where we left off."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VIII" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">DEATH FOR A KISS.</span></h2> + + +<p>Paul Beldi went straight from Fehervár to Bodola: all the way he was +tortured by the thought which Teleki's words had revived.</p> + +<p>In itself, a kiss is a very harmless thing. But what if another knows of +it or has perceived it? Then indeed it becomes the pole of our +suspicion, round which the mind weaves a whole pandemonium of doubts and +guesses. We begin to think what might have led up to it, and what it may +lead to. And in this case another did know of it. The husband had +reasoned with himself: a kiss of which nobody knows anything makes no +rent in a wife's virtue—and behold! it is in every one's mouth already. +And perhaps they don't stop there. Perhaps while he, fond fool! imagined +his honour in safe keeping, the world with a loud Ha, ha! has long been +dragging it through the mire, and his ear is the very last to catch the +insulting laugh. And that his mortal foe, too, should be at the bottom +of it!</p> + +<p>Night had fallen. The horses were tired out. Beldi had nowhere given +them rest, nowhere changed them for fresh ones. He wanted to get home as +quickly as possible. He wanted to meet face to face the woman who had so +disgraced him, heaven only knew how much! But why be content to see a +woman weep or die, when there was a man on whom vengeance could be +taken? A man who had ever been his foe, from the time when they had been +pages together at Prince Gabriel Bethlen's court, and had now fastened +on the most sensitive spot in his heart and ruthlessly torn it.</p> + +<p>"Turn back," he cried to the coachman, "and go in the direction of +Klausenburg."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>The old servant shook his head; turned into a side-path, and so +completely lost himself in the darkness of the night, that he was forced +to confess to his master that he really did not know where he was.</p> + +<p>Beldi's rage and impatience knew no bounds. Looking about him, he +perceived a small light burning at no great distance, and sulkily bade +his coachman drive in that direction.</p> + +<p>It was into the courtyard of a lonely country-house that they rolled at +last, and Beldi recognized in the master of the house, who appeared at +the barking of the large watch-dogs, old Adam Gyergyai, one of his +dearest friends, who, when he saw Beldi, rushed into his arms, and was +beside himself with joy.</p> + +<p>"God be with you!" said the good old man, covering his guest with +kisses. "I will not ask what piece of good fortune has brought you to +me."</p> + +<p>"To tell the truth, I've lost my way. I was on the road to Klausenburg. +I must get there to-night; but I'll rest my horses here for an hour or +two if you'll let me."</p> + +<p>"What pressing business is this you have on hand?"</p> + +<p>"I must deliver a message," replied Beldi evasively.</p> + +<p>"If that be all, why so much hurry? Write it down, and one of my mounted +servants shall immediately take it to its destination while you remain +here."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said Beldi, after some reflection; "it will be better +to send a letter," and with that he asked for writing materials, sat +down, and wrote to Banfi.</p> + +<p>The mere act of writing generally clears and calms the mind, so that it +was in a fairly moderate tone that Beldi challenged Banfi to meet him at +Szamos-Ujvar on an affair of honour. Beldi then sealed the letter and +gave it to Gyergyai, requesting him to forward it at once.</p> + +<p>"So you are writing to Banfi, my brother?" said the old man, looking at +the address of the letter. "Why, you only parted from him a little time +ago! What is all this between you?"</p> + +<p>"Do you recollect the time, my father," said Beldi, "when you saw Banfi +and me fight together in the lists at the tournament held by Prince +George Rakoczy?"</p> + +<p>"Quite well! On that occasion you had both vanquished every other +competitor, but could do nothing against each other."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>"You then said that you would very much like to see which of the two +would beat the other if we set to it in earnest."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I well remember it."</p> + +<p>"Well, now you <i>shall</i> see!"</p> + +<p>Gyergyai looked Beldi in the face.</p> + +<p>"My brother, I know not what this letter contains, but I can guess your +thoughts from your face. My father used to say that a letter written in +wrath should never be sent off the same day, but should be put under +one's pillow and slept upon. The advice is not bad; follow it, and send +off the letter to-morrow morning, for, to be candid with you, I won't +send it to-night."</p> + +<p>Beldi followed the old man's advice. He put the letter under his pillow, +lay down, went to sleep, and dreamt that he was in the bosom of his +family, saw his wife and children, and was very happy. It was only the +rolling of his carriage into the courtyard next morning which woke him +out of his slumbers. The first thing that occurred to him was his letter +to Banfi. He broke the seal, read the letter through again, and was much +ashamed that he had ever written such a letter.</p> + +<p>"Where was your common-sense, Beldi?" he asked himself, tore the letter +to pieces, and threw it into the fire. "How the world would have laughed +at me!" thought he. "An old fool, to take it into his head all at once +to be jealous of the mother of his children!—and for the sake of a kiss +too given in drunkenness and rejected with indignation. What a weapon I +should have put into Banfi's hands, had I led him to suppose that I was +jealous of my wife on his account."</p> + +<p>"Let us go to Bodola," said he very gently to his coachman, and with +that he took leave of his host.</p> + +<p>"But how about that pressing letter of yours?" asked Gyergyai anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I have already sent it—up the chimney," replied Beldi, smiling, and +set out on his journey with feelings very different from those with +which he had started.</p> + +<p>So you see a man can be drunk without wine!</p> + +<p>While still some distance from Bodola, he could see all the members of +his family looking out for him on the castle terrace, and no sooner did +they perceive his carriage, than they hastened down to greet him. He met +them all in the park, wife and children; they threw themselves on his +neck with cries of joy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> and he kissed them all, one after another, over +and over again; but his warmest embraces were for his darling wife, who +smiled up at him with a radiant face, which he could not feast his eyes +upon enough. It seemed to him as if her eyes were brighter, her features +more enchanting, her lips sweeter than ever they had been.</p> + +<p>"What a fool a man is, to be sure," thought Beldi, "who, when his wife +is out of sight, is capable of supposing everything bad of her, and when +she stands before his eyes cannot make too much of her."</p> + +<p>In the abandonment of his joy he did not at first perceive that there +was a strange face in the family circle—a handsome, stately young Turk, +with frank and noble features, not unlike an Hungarian.</p> + +<p>"You do not even notice me, or perhaps you forget me," said the youth, +stepping in front of Beldi.</p> + +<p>Beldi looked at him. The youth's features were familiar to him, and yet +he could not recall his name till his youngest daughter, Aranka, who was +dangling on her father's arm, remarked archly—</p> + +<p>"What! Not recognize Feriz Beg, papa! Why, I knew him at the first +glance."</p> + +<p>Beldi at once held out his hand and heartily greeted the youth, whose +manly features however wore a grave and serious look.</p> + +<p>"My father sends me to you on an urgent errand," said he, "and had you +not come, I must have gone to seek you, for my message admits of no +delay."</p> + +<p>Beldi was struck by the youth's earnest tone, and on reaching the castle +immediately took him aside into a private room, and there the young Beg +handed him a parchment roll tied round with silken cord, and sealed with +a yellow seal. Beldi broke the seal and read as follows—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The blessing and protection of heaven rest upon you +and your family!—Transylvania is in great danger. The +Sultan is enraged at the war which Denis Banfi wages +with the Pasha of Grosswardein. They say that this +great noble is in league with the Emperor. See to it +that the land chastises Banfi, the power to do so is +still your own. But if the Prince cannot, or will not +punish him, the Sultan has sworn to drive the pair of +them out of the realm, and convert Transylvania into a +Turkish Pachalic. The Pashas of Grosswardein and +Temesvar, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> Lord-Marchers, and the Tartar Khan have +been ordered to hold themselves in readiness to invade +Transylvania from all sides at a moment's notice. Put +a bit therefore in the mouth of this great lord, for +death hangs over your heads on the film of a spider's +web.</p> + +<p class="sig1">"Your friend and brother,</p> + +<p class="sig2">"Kucsuk Pasha."</p> +</div> + +<p>Beldi's face grew dark as he read this letter. So it was all in vain +that he had driven Banfi's name out of his head. This letter conjured up +that odious form once more before his eyes.</p> + +<p>He folded up the parchment and gave the grave youth a brief answer to +take back with him—</p> + +<p>"Let your father know that we will take the necessary steps to avert the +threatened evil, and thank him heartily for his warning."</p> + +<p>Feriz Beg immediately quitted Bodola Castle. Beldi remained alone in his +room, pacing to and fro in a brown study, and racking his brains to find +a way out of the danger. He could find none. It was not to be expected +that Banfi's pride would yield to the Pasha, especially after a +brilliant victory and in a just cause; and yet the welfare of the land +required the sacrifice of the just cause.</p> + +<p>Brooding thus, he did not notice that somebody was tapping at his door, +who after thrice knocking and receiving no answer, opened it, and as +Beldi suddenly came to himself and looked around him with a start, he +perceived Michael Teleki standing before him. So amazed was Beldi by +this apparition, that for the moment the power of speech forsook him.</p> + +<p>"You appear surprised," said Teleki, observing his amazement. "You are +astonished that I should travel such a long way to see you, after +parting from you only twenty-four hours ago. But great events have taken +place in the meantime. Transylvania is threatened by a danger which must +be averted as quickly as possible."</p> + +<p>"I know it," replied Beldi, and putting his hand over the signature, he +let Teleki read Kucsuk's letter.</p> + +<p>"Great heaven!" exclaimed the minister. "You know more than I did. But +what I want to say on this matter is a secret which the very walls +around us may not hear."</p> + +<p>"I understand," replied Beldi, and immediately commanded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> his heydukes +to admit no one into the vestibules; placed guards in front of the +windows, and drew the curtains down to the ground. There now only +remained a little tapestried door, at the back of the room, which led +through a narrow corridor to his wife's bed-chamber, an arrangement very +common, at that time, in the mansions of Hungarian magnates. By way of +additional precaution Beldi closed this door also.</p> + +<p>"Does your Excellency feel secure enough now?" asked Beldi.</p> + +<p>"One thing more. Give me your word of honour that if what I am about to +disclose does not meet with your approbation, you will at least keep it +secret."</p> + +<p>"I promise," returned Beldi, impatiently awaiting the <i>dénouement</i> of +all this mystery.</p> + +<p>Teleki thereupon drew forth a long strip of parchment, unfolded it, and +held it before Beldi's eyes, without however letting it out of his +hands.</p> + +<p>It was the league against Banfi, signed and sealed by the Prince.</p> + +<p>The more Beldi read of this document, the blacker grew his looks, till +at last, turning his face away, he pushed the document aside with an +expression of deep disgust.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "'tis a dirty piece of work!"</p> + +<p>Teleki was prepared for some such answer, and summoned to his aid all +the sophistry of which he was so perfect a master.</p> + +<p>"Beldi!" cried he, "we must, for once, put aside all narrow-minded +sentiment. Here it is a question of the end and not of the means. The +means may seem bad, but we really have no other. Whenever a subject +becomes so powerful in a state that the arm of the law is no longer able +to bring him to justice, then I say he has only himself to blame if the +state is compelled to conspire against him. He whom the axe of the +executioner cannot reach, must fall beneath the dagger of the bravo. +Denis Banfi, by despising the Prince's commands and waging war on his +own account, has placed himself outside the law. In such a case, where +the ordinary tribunals become inoperative, we must of course have resort +to secret tribunals. If any one injures me, and the law can give me no +remedy, I make use of my own weapons, and shoot him down wherever I meet +him. If the country is injured by any one whom it cannot punish, it must +fall back upon the <i>jus ligatum</i>, and lay hands upon him whenever and +wherever it can. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> commonweal requires, the common danger compels +such a step."</p> + +<p>"We are in the hands of God!" replied Beldi. "If 'tis His will to +destroy the fatherland, we can only bow the head and die in defence of +our freedom with a good conscience. But never ought we to lift our hands +against the liberties we have inherited from our forefathers. Rather let +us endure the wrongs which spring from those liberties, than lay the axe +to the root of them ourselves! Rather let war and strife burst over the +land, than conspire against the laws! That may cost the nation its +blood; but this will destroy its very soul. I disapprove of this league, +and, sir, I mean to oppose it!"</p> + +<p>At these words Michael Teleki rose from his seat, sank down upon his +knees before Beldi, raised his hands to heaven, and cried—</p> + +<p>"I swear by the living God, that as I hope for my own and my family's +protection and happiness here and for salvation hereafter, that what I +now do, I do as your loyal friend, well knowing that all Banfi's efforts +aim at the ruin of your house, and I solemnly adjure you, as you love +your life and the lives of your wife and children, to avert the +impending danger by signing the league. I have now done all in my power +to save you and my country, and that too at my own risk and peril. I +have no other object. Before God I lie not!"</p> + +<p>Beldi turned with calm dignity towards the minister, and said, in a tone +of immovable conviction—</p> + +<p>"<i>Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!</i>"</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>A few moments after Teleki's arrival at Bodola, a mounted heyduke had +galloped into the courtyard; it was Andrew, Dame Apafi's faithful old +servant, who handed to Dame Beldi a letter from the Princess, adding +that the message was doubly urgent, as he already perceived in the +courtyard Teleki's coachman, whom he ought to have forestalled.</p> + +<p>Dame Beldi hastily opened the letter and read as follows—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Sister</span>—</p> + +<p>"Michael Teleki has set out for Bodola to see your +husband. His aim is to secretly ruin Banfi by the hand +of Beldi. The magnates have conspired together to +break the law. Fortunately, every one of them has a +wife, and in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> hearts of our women the better +feelings of human nature are not yet extinguished. I +have charged each one of them to preserve their +husbands from Teleki's wiles; but 'tis to you that I +chiefly look for help. Beldi is the most eminent of +them all. If he joins the league, the rest will follow +his example; but he is also the most honourable of men +and the best of husbands. I count upon your firmness. +Move heaven and earth!</p> + +<p class="sig1">"Your loving sister,</p> + +<p class="sig2">"Anna Bornemissa."</p> +</div> + +<p>On reading this letter, Dame Beldi almost swooned.</p> + +<p>Teleki had already been closeted with her husband for more than +half-an-hour, and the servants had brought word that every one had been +ordered away, even from the passages leading to the room. In an instant +she divined everything. Terror seized her. Perhaps it was already too +late! But what could she do? Suddenly, the secret corridor occurred to +her, which led from her bedroom to her husband's. Urged by fear, she +rapidly traversed the corridor, reached the tapestried door, stood still +before it with a beating heart, and listened. She could only hear +Teleki, and he was speaking in an unusually excited voice, which rose +almost to a scream. She looked through the keyhole, and beheld the +minister on his knees before her husband with uplifted hands, +endeavouring to move him by solemn oaths.</p> + +<p>Such a sight made Dame Beldi perfectly frantic. What must it be that +could make a man so proud and so exalted kneel down before Beldi? What +is he swearing so vehemently? Suddenly Banfi's name struck on her ear; +she turned pale with horror, and at the same instant she heard Beldi say +the words—"<i>Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!</i>" Ignorant as she was of the +Latin language, she at once jumped to the conclusion that her husband +had yielded, and in her desperation pressed hard upon the door-latch, +and finding it immovable, shook the door furiously, exclaiming wildly at +the same time—</p> + +<p>"My husband! My beloved lord! Lord of my soul! Give no heed to Teleki's +words, for he would ruin you."</p> + +<p>Both the men started at this passionate cry, and Beldi rose from his +seat, went to the door, opened it, and cried angrily to his wife—</p> + +<p>"Go to your work, woman! You have no business here."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>Then Dame Beldi lost her presence of mind altogether. Fear did not allow +her to reflect. The idea that her husband was consenting to Teleki's +schemes rendered her incapable of grasping the situation; and she forgot +that the most complaisant of husbands, rather than see his uxoriousness +paraded before the world, will do violence to his better nature. So Dame +Beldi rushed wildly into the room, sank down at her husband's feet, +convulsively clasped his knees, and cried in a voice of passionate +remonstrance—</p> + +<p>"Sweet lord of my heart! I adjure you not to believe in that man. Don't +be led away. He would bring down innocent blood upon your head. You are +too just and merciful to become a headsman."</p> + +<p>"Get up, woman! You are mad!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I know what I'm saying. I saw him kneel to you. He who believes in +God, kneels not to man. He would ruin Denis Banfi through you. Woe +betide us if you help him! For if Banfi be the first, you will assuredly +be the second."</p> + +<p>When Teleki saw his secret design thus exposed, he grew wroth.</p> + +<p>"If my wife were to treat me so," cried he passionately, "I would tear +her eyes out. If any one came to me with a saving word of friendship on +his tongue, I would thank him for it, and not allow my wife to lead me +by the nose."</p> + +<p>Beldi turned furiously upon his wife and ordered her out.</p> + +<p>"I'll remain here even if you kill me, for 'tis a matter of life or +death. When the peace of my family is at stake, I think 'tis time for me +to speak. I beg, I implore you to hear me. I'll not allow you to +sacrifice Banfi."</p> + +<p>Beldi was already so ashamed of this onslaught on his marital authority +that he was nearly beside himself; but when his wife began to plead for +Banfi, he started back as if an adder had bitten him.</p> + +<p>This did not escape Teleki, and with malicious innuendo he exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that wives forget <i>some things</i> much sooner than their +husbands."</p> + +<p>Quick as lightning the dart pierced through Beldi's soul. The +recollection of that kiss came back to him. Pale and speechless, he +seized his wife's arm; her loud sobs only inflamed his jealousy, and +dragging her to the tapestried door, he pushed her out and closed it +behind her. There she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> remained, lying on the threshold, loudly cursing +the Prince's minister, and hammering at the closed door with her fists.</p> + +<p>Beldi, pale as death, sat down at the table, gnashed his teeth, and +whispered huskily—</p> + +<p>"Where's the document?"</p> + +<p>Teleki spread out the parchment roll before him on the table.</p> + +<p>Beldi took up his pen without a word, and wrote his name in a bold hand +beneath that of Michael Apafi.</p> + +<p>A triumphant smile played around Teleki's lips.</p> + +<p>No sooner was the deed done than something in Beldi's breast began to +accuse him. Resting his hand on the document, he turned with a very +grave face towards Teleki.</p> + +<p>"I expressly stipulate," he murmured, in a hollow voice, "that if Banfi +be arrested, right and justice shall be done to him, according to the +law of the land."</p> + +<p>"Quite so! Of course!" returned the Prince's counsellor, making a snatch +at the document.</p> + +<p>Still Beldi would not let it go.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "promise me that you will not secretly assassinate +Banfi; but that when once he is arrested you will proceed against him +before the proper Court of Justice, and in the usual, legitimate way. If +you don't guarantee me that, I'll tear this parchment to pieces and +throw it into the fire, together with my own and the Prince's +signatures."</p> + +<p>"I promise it to you on my word of honour," replied the minister, +inwardly smiling at the man who was so weak so long as he stood upright, +and made such a brave show of firmness when he had already fallen.</p> + +<p>That same day Teleki hastened with the subscribed league to Ladislaus +Csaky, and from him to Haller, and from him to the Bethlens. As soon as +they saw Beldi's name, they signed the document without more ado, for +all of them hated Banfi.</p> + +<p>In every case the wives intervened. Terrible scenes took place. Nowhere +did Teleki escape scot-free. But the league was successfully carried +through, and that was, after all, the main thing.</p> + +<p>And thus it was that Transylvania dug her own grave.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IX" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">CONSORT AND CONCUBINE.</span></h2> + + +<p>Ever since that painful scene at Bonczhida, Lady Banfi had not met her +husband. Fate so willed it that Banfi was constantly away from home; +scarcely had he come back from the Diet of Fehervár when he was called +away to Somlyo, where his troops stood face to face with the Turks. +During the few hours however that he remained at home, his wife had +locked herself up from him; not even the domestics caught a glimpse of +her face. She did not quit her chamber, and received no one.</p> + +<p>One day both the spouses were invited to Roppad by a distant kinsman, +one Gabriel Vitez, who knew nothing of their estrangement, to act as +sponsors to his new-born son. To decline the invitation was impossible, +and thus it came about that on the day in question, Lady Banfi coming +from Bonczhida and her husband from Somlyo met together, to their mutual +confusion, at the festive mansion of the Vitezes.</p> + +<p>At the first meeting they instinctively shrank back from each other. +They had both indeed longed for such a meeting, but pride had kept them +apart, and thus while their affection rejoiced at, their pride revolted +against this chance encounter. Of course they let nothing of all this +appear openly. In the presence of their friends they had so to conduct +themselves that nobody might suspect that this meeting was anything but +an everyday occurrence.</p> + +<p>At the end of the banquet, which lasted far into the night, Master +Gabriel Vitez took care that all his guests should be lodged with the +utmost convenience. Husbands and wives and all the young girls had +separate quarters, and the young men were accommodated in the hunting +saloon. For Banfi and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> his spouse the garden pavilion had been reserved, +which, being at some distance from the noisy courtyard, promised to be +the quietest resting-place of all. The host, with the most distinguished +courtesy, accompanied them thither himself.</p> + +<p>It was now a long time since they had slept together under the same +roof.</p> + +<p>Before so many acquaintances they could not declare their estrangement, +and had been compelled to accept the nice quarters provided for them by +their amiable host, who insisted, despite their protests, in showing +them the way; jested pleasantly with them for a time, and only left them +to themselves after wishing them good-night some scores of times.</p> + +<p>The pavilion consisted of two small adjoining rooms, such cosy little +cribs, with quite an air of home about them. In one of them a merry fire +was crackling and flickering on the hearth. In the corner a tall solemn +clock was softly ticking. The brocade curtains of the large tester-bed +were half drawn back, revealing behind them a comfortable, snow-white, +downy expanse, on which lay, side by side, <i>two</i> little pillows adorned +with red ribbons.</p> + +<p>In the other room, which was half lighted by the reflection of the fire, +a couch was visible provided with a bear-skin covering and a single +stag-skin bolster. In all probability no one had ever thought that it +would be occupied.</p> + +<p>Banfi looked sadly at his wife. Now that he was no longer free to +approach her, he saw what a heaven he had possessed in that noble and +lovely being. She stood before him with downcast eyes, so sorrowful and +yet so mild.</p> + +<p>In her heart, too, many traitorous thoughts pleaded for her husband; +wounded pride, that unbending judge, was already beginning to waver. In +a noble breast it is not hate but grief that takes the place of love.</p> + +<p>Banfi drew nearer to his wife, seized her hand, and pressed it in his +own. He felt that her hand trembled, but he also felt that it did not +return his pressure.</p> + +<p>He went still further. He tenderly pressed her to him, and kissed her +forehead, cheeks, and lips. She suffered his caresses but did not return +them. But if only she had looked up into her husband's eyes, she would +have seen them glistening with two tears as sincere as ever repentant +sinner shed.</p> + +<p>Banfi, with a deep sigh, sat down in an armchair, still holding +Margaret's hand in his own; it needed but a single<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> tender word from his +wife, and he would have flung himself at her feet and wept like a +remorseful child. Instead of that, Dame Banfi, with self-denying +affectation, said to her husband—</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to remain in this room, and shall I go into the other?"</p> + +<p>The icy tone of these words cut Banfi to the heart. His broad breast +heaved a deep sigh, his eyes looked sorrowfully at Margaret's joyless +face—to him a closed paradise. He rose gravely from his seat, pressed +his wife's hand to his lips, whispered her a scarcely audible +good-night, and tottered into the adjoining room, closing the door +behind him.</p> + +<p>Dame Banfi set about disrobing, but on casting a glance at the lonely +couch, a painful feeling overcame her. She threw herself sobbing on the +pillows, and then, finding no rest for her soul there, she stood up +again, drew a chair in front of the fire, sat down, and burying her face +in her hands indulged in brooding, melancholy, dreamy thoughts.</p> + +<p>And can there be any greater grief than when the heart fights against +its own conviction; when a woman can no longer conceal from herself that +the ideal of her love, him whom, after God, she loves the most, is after +all only a common, ordinary mortal?—that he whom she has loved so nobly +deserves nothing but her contempt? And yet she cannot but love him! She +feels she ought to hate him, yet she cannot bear the thought of being +without him. She would fain die for him, and the opportunity of dying +will not come.</p> + +<p>A single unlocked door separates her from him. They are only a few steps +apart. How small the distance, and yet how great! She can hear him +sighing. He too cannot sleep while he is so near to her whom he has so +deeply wounded. What bliss it would be to traverse those few steps, to +nestle side by side, to gratify each other's longings! But +reconciliation is impossible; her heart yearns after it and recoils from +it, loves and loathes at the same moment.</p> + +<p>Oh! why can we not forget the Past? Why is it impossible to prevent +Grief from grieving?</p> + +<p>The lady fell a-thinking, a-dreaming.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her as if she were talking to her husband in a vision—</p> + +<p>"You said yourself that we ought to part while we still loved each +other, while our hearts would bleed at the rupture. Then why don't you +do it? Why do you sigh when you look at me? Why do you kiss me? Those +sighs, those kisses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> are torture to me; they wound my heart. Let us +part! It was your own wish."</p> + +<p>The fire had burnt very low in the grate; over the ruddy embers a pale, +ever-dwindling flame was feebly flickering to and fro, like the last +thought of an extinguished passion. All around the room was growing +darker and darker; the light of the expiring embers barely lit up the +form of the sorrowing lady who sat there, with her head buried in her +hands, like a marble statue mourning over a tomb.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, amid the silence of the night and of her own thoughts, it +seemed to her as if whispering voices and stealthy footsteps were +approaching the doors of the pavilion.</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi really did hear these sounds; but she was like one but +half-awakened from his first sleep, who hears but heeds not, who knows +what is going on about him without regarding it.</p> + +<p>The whispering was now audible close beneath the windows, and now and +then it seemed to her as if the smothered clash of arms was mingling +with it. In her dreamy state the lady fancied she had got up and bolted +the door; but this was a delusion, the door remained ajar.</p> + +<p>Then some one pressed the latch, and the creaking sound made Lady Banfi +dream that her husband had come to her, and was speaking to her in a +tearful, supplicating voice. She felt the terrors of nightmare strong +upon her as she came within the magnetic influence of that shape. "Let +us part, Banfi!" she would have said, but the words died away on her +lips. Then the dream-shape whispered to her—"I am not Banfi, but the +headsman!" and seized her hand.</p> + +<p>At this cold touch Lady Banfi uttered a shriek and started up.</p> + +<p>Two men stood before her with drawn swords. The lady looked into their +faces with a shudder. Both were well known to her. One was Caspar +Kornis, chief captain of the Maros district, the other John Daczo, chief +captain of Csik, who now stood before her with menacing looks, and the +points of their naked swords at her breast.</p> + +<p>"Not a sound, my lady!" said Daczo grimly. "Where's Banfi?"</p> + +<p>The lady, thus scared out of her first sleep, was scarcely able to +distinguish the objects around her: terror made her dumb.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she observed through the open door that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> passage was filled +with armed men, whereupon her presence of mind seemed instantly and +completely to return. She grasped at once the tremendous significance of +the moment, and when Daczo, gnashing his teeth, again asked her where +Banfi was, she bounded from her chair, ran to the door which separated +her husband's chamber from her own, turned the key quickly round, and +screamed with all her might—</p> + +<p>"Banfi! Save yourself! They seek your life!"</p> + +<p>Daczo ran forward to stop her mouth and snatch the key from her; but +with singular presence of mind Lady Banfi had, in the meantime, thrown +the key into the heart of the red-hot embers, and cried again—</p> + +<p>"Fly, Banfi! Your enemies are here!"</p> + +<p>Daczo tried to pick the key out of the fire, and burnt his fingers very +badly in the attempt, whereupon, still more furious, he rushed upon the +lady sword in hand to cut her down, but Kornis held him back.</p> + +<p>"Softly, sir! We have no orders to kill the woman, nor would it be +worthy of us; let us try rather to burst open the door as quickly as +possible," and with that they both pressed their shoulders against the +door, Daczo cursing and swearing, and calling upon all the devils in +hell to help him, while Lady Banfi on her knees prayed God to allow her +husband to escape.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Banfi had gone to sleep at the same time as his wife. He too had had a +tormenting dream. He fancied he was in prison, and the moment he heard +Margaret's shriek, he sprang in terror from his couch, tore open the +window of the pavilion, and without thinking what he was doing, leaped +into the garden at a single bound. He looked hurriedly about him. The +house was surrounded by armed Szeklers, and the rear of the garden was +bounded by a broad ditch filled with greenish rain-water. Amongst the +masses of infantry stood here and there a group of grooms, holding by +the bridles the chargers from which their masters had just dismounted.</p> + +<p>Banfi had very little time for reflection, nor did he need much. Under +cover of the darkness, he rushed swiftly upon the nearest groom, gave +him a buffet which brought the blood in streams from his nose and mouth, +sprang upon one of the vacant horses, and struck the spurs into its +flanks.</p> + +<p>The cry of the groom, who had fallen beneath the horse but still held on +fast by the bridle, brought up to the spot a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> crowd of yelling Szeklers. +It immediately occurred to Banfi to put his hands into his +saddle-pouches, where pistols were sure to be found, and the moment he +felt the handles, he as quick as light sent two shots among the crowd +which was pressing upon him from all sides, and taking advantage of the +consequent hubbub and confusion, spurred his horse fiercely, till it +reared and plunged and flew away with him through the garden. The groom +still stuck to it like a leech, and allowed himself to be dragged along +the ground, till at last his head came into collision with the stump of +a tree and he fell back unconscious. Banfi thereupon galloped towards +the ditch, and leaped it at a single bold bound; his pursuers, not +daring to follow him that way, were obliged to make a long détour to +reach the gates, thus giving Banfi a start of several hundred paces. His +steed too, scared by the noise of the pursuit, had become half frantic, +and Banfi gave him his head, and away they went over stock and stone, up +hill and down dale, without aim or purpose.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>"Oh, accursed woman!" roared Daczo, threatening Lady Banfi with his +fists, when he learnt that Banfi had made his escape. "'Tis all through +you that Banfi has slipped through our fingers."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Almighty God! I thank Thee!" stammered Margaret, with hands +upraised to heaven.</p> + +<p>The Szeklers, enraged at having let the husband escape, swung their +weapons and rushed upon the wife to murder her.</p> + +<p>"Let her die! Her blood be upon her own head!" they roared, with bestial +rage.</p> + +<p>"Kill me! Death will be welcome to me!" cried Margaret, kneeling down +before them. "To die for him was my only wish. God be with me!"</p> + +<p>"Be off with you!" cried Kornis, suddenly intervening, beating down the +weapons of the Szeklers with his sword, and covering the kneeling lady +with his body. "Shame on you! Would you kill a woman? Ye are worse than +the Pagan Tartars. If you've let Banfi escape, run after him."</p> + +<p>"We'll kill her! We'll kill her!" bellowed the Szeklers, and again they +attempted to tear Kornis away from the lady.</p> + +<p>"Eh! you damned beasts! Who commands here, I should like to know? Am I +not your captain?"</p> + +<p>"No!" bluntly replied a stiff-necked, bull-headed Szekler,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> twitching +his bulky shoulders to and fro. "Our captain is Nicholas Bethlen, and he +is not here."</p> + +<p>"Then go and find him. But let me tell you that whoever does not +instantly quit this room shall be beaten into a pulp."</p> + +<p>Still the Szeklers persisted in remaining, and there is no knowing what +they might not have done, had not one of the hindermost suddenly +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Let us go to Bonczhida!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon all the others fell a-shouting—"To Bonczhida! to Bonczhida!" +and they withdrew, cursing horribly, and in the most chaotic confusion.</p> + +<p>But Captain Kornis quietly put Lady Banfi into a carriage, and sent her +to Bethlen Castle, which then belonged to Paul Beldi, hoping that Banfi +would behave with a little more discretion when he heard that his wife +was a prisoner.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Meanwhile, the Szekler rabble sent out against Banfi by order of the +Prince had arrived at Bonczhida, and on showing the castellan the +Prince's mandate, the gates were opened to them without the slightest +contradiction. Daczo only left a portion of his band there, whom he +strictly charged to arrest Banfi the moment he appeared, then with the +rest he went on to Örmenyes, where Banfi had another castle, to seek him +there.</p> + +<p>The Szeklers left behind at Bonczhida no sooner perceived themselves +captainless, than they proceeded to make themselves perfectly at home in +the occupied castle. At first indeed they only jostled each other in the +hall and vestibules, but presently they began to insist that the private +apartments should also be thrown open to them.</p> + +<p>The castellan hesitated. He declared that there was no necessity for +such a step, and begged the noble gentlemen to keep within their legal +rights, whereupon the before-mentioned broad-shouldered, bull-headed +rogue stepped forth, twirled his blonde moustache, which consisted of +about nine hairs, and thrusting his pock-marked face close under the +castellan's nose, exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that? You are a conspirator! You have robber-bands +concealed in those rooms. Open the doors instantly, or we'll burn the +house down!"</p> + +<p>The castellan was very wroth, but he was also very frightened, so he +threw open the rooms in order that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> Szeklers might see with their +own eyes that nobody was concealed there.</p> + +<p>The Szeklers thereupon, with astonishing conscientiousness, thoroughly +explored every hole and corner, even looking into places where no one +would ever have thought of hiding anything. They looked under and inside +all the beds. They pulled out all the cupboards. They took the grates +out bodily to see what was behind them. They pitched all the books out +of the book-cases, and, after ransacking every room, came at last to +Lady Banfi's bed-chamber.</p> + +<p>"Look! look! There sits Banfi!" cried the bull-headed ringleader, +recoiling at first before a lifelike portrait of the Baron, but +immediately afterwards rushing forward and gouging out one of its eyes +with his spear. "And that pretty lady yonder is his wife, I suppose?" +asked he, pointing to another portrait by the side of the first. "Ai, +ai, ai! We were like to have killed her a little while ago, not knowing +that she was so pretty. Let us be off, comrades! This room we must leave +untouched, for it belongs to that pretty lady," and with that he drove +his comrades out, and wrote with a piece of charcoal on the white +enamelled door, in letters each an ell long—"<span class="smcap">THIS IS THE PRETTY LADY'S +CHAMBER.</span>"</p> + +<p>"Why do you do that?" asked the castellan in some surprise.</p> + +<p>"To prevent any fuddled blockhead from thrusting his nose in there, in +case we all get drunk."</p> + +<p>"But where will you all get the drink from, pray?" asked the castellan, +more and more amazed.</p> + +<p>"Nay, gossip! we must certainly have a peep at the cellars also, to see +if anybody is lurking there."</p> + +<p>"There you cannot go, and so I tell you once for all, unless you have +brought petards with you under your coats of mail."</p> + +<p>"What! Just say that again! I should like to hear it once more. Do you +know, gossip, to whom you are speaking? My name is Firi Firtos, and if +you speak a single word more, I'll chuck you over the house, so that you +will fall to the ground in half-a-dozen pieces."</p> + +<p>"Why bandy words with him?" cried a voice from the crowd. "Let us pitch +the fellow out of the window."</p> + +<p>The Szeklers did not wait to be told twice, but instantly raised the +castellan into the air and threw him, despite his frantic struggles, out +of the window. Luckily he fell on his feet, and took to his heels, to +the great indignation of Firi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> Firtos, who seized all the cactus and +hortensia plants that stood in the windows, and hurled them after him, +pots and all, after which the whole mob rushed bellowing down to the +cellars. Finding it impossible to open the large iron doors, they +dragged forward huge casks, filled them with big stones, and sent them +flying down the cellar steps, till at last the iron doors fell in with a +tremendous crash.</p> + +<p>The vast cellar was fitted with huge butts and barrels of every size and +shape, and the Szeklers forthwith fell upon them and knocked the tops +off with their morning-stars to see what was inside them. The costly +wine poured out into the cellar. The Szeklers drank as only Szeklers can +drink, and what they could not drink was simply wasted.</p> + +<p>When they had all drunk as much as they could hold, the mob stormed +up-stairs again, and while another batch took their place below, they +forced their way into the state-rooms, rolled about on the costly divans +and oriental carpets, hustled one another against the furniture and +mirrors, and indulged in many other like pleasantries. Firi Firtos +climbed on to a round ebony table in order to paint a moustache on the +portrait of a mediæval lady with a piece of charcoal, but some one else +jerked the table from under him, and the merry wag fell crashing down +into a glass chest containing the family treasures. Mad with rage, he +immediately began pitching about everything which came to hand: gorgeous +gold pocals, silver plates, enamelled snuff-boxes, flew one after +another at the heads of the Szeklers, who, entering into the joke, flung +them all back at him with great spirit.</p> + +<p>This was the signal for a general devastation. The mania for destruction +is contagious. It needs but one to begin it, and the mob, as if +rejoicing at the sight, is never so ready as when there is something to +be pulled, torn, or smashed to bits. In an instant every piece of +furniture was broken up and every bit of tapestry torn down. Splendid +costumes, costly, fur-trimmed pelisses, gala-mantles—everything was +torn to pieces. They ripped open the feather-beds, scattered the +eider-down out of the windows, and bellowed to those who stood +below—"It is snowing! it is snowing!" whereupon all the others came +rushing up to tear and pull to pieces what still remained whole.</p> + +<p>They pulled up the fragrant jasmines by the roots to make posies of +them, and cut up into neckties the delicate tapestries which Lady Banfi +had worked with her own hands. Stealing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> gave the Szeklers no pleasure, +it was destruction for its own sake that they found so delightful. Thus +they threw to the ground a rare and costly clock which needed winding +only once a year, broke it up, distributed the wheels and chains as +buckles for their shoes, and melted the silver keys into bullets, which +they fired off into the air.</p> + +<p>Here too it was edifying to see how Firi Firtos tried to get at the +bottom of everything. He took down an antique urn and stuck it on his +head upside down by way of a helmet. A clock chain he wound round his +loins as a girdle, and he danced about hugging in his arms a huge statue +of Gutenberg, declaring that it would make an excellent scarecrow for +the Somlyo vineyards.</p> + +<p>The fragments of the broken furniture they piled up on the hearth, and +made a great fire of the priceless ebony, mahogany, and palisander +woods. The conflagration of a whole village would not have been half so +costly.</p> + +<p>Over this fire they hung, on a silver chain, a Corinthian amphora of +exquisite workmanship by way of a kettle, filled it with finely-chopped +mutton, and sent Firi Firtos out for beans, salt, and onions. He brought +them instead green coffee beans, white powdered sugar, and the most +costly tulip, amaryllis, and hyacinth bulbs, all of which they threw +pell-mell into the kettle, with the natural consequence that the mess, +when finished, was very nearly the death of them all, and the end of it +was that they pitched Firi Firtos neck and crop into the courtyard.</p> + +<p>The Szekler, mad with rage and unable to obtain any other satisfaction, +rushed down to the cellars to drink himself dead drunk, but there all +the hogsheads had already been staved in, and he waded in wine up to his +middle. Looking about him, he perceived a door leading to a second +cellar, broke it open with his axe, and was overjoyed to see by the +light of the torch he held in his hand, a whole row of fresh casks. He +immediately rushed upon the first of them, and knocking the top in, held +the torch over it to see what was flowing out. It was <i>gunpowder</i>! +Luckily for him he was drunk, otherwise he would certainly have sent the +castle and everything it contained the shortest way to heaven. "That's +not good to drink!" thought he, and broke open the second cask; in that +too there was powder, and in the third also, and he swore a terrible +oath that if the fourth held the same thing he would hurl the torch into +it holus bolus. In the fourth cask,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> however, there was honey, and shake +it as much as he would, he could get nothing else out of it. At last he +came upon a six-gallon cask, and, smelling the bung, inhaled a strong +odour of spirits, which made him madder than ever, and seizing it by the +spigot he raised it bodily from the ground and swallowed long draughts +of the strong corn brandy, till over he fell backwards, cask and all. +There he wallowed about in the streaming honey; struggled laboriously to +his feet again, stumbled a few steps further on, fell down into the +gunpowder; rolled backwards and forwards in it for some time, and +finally, all candied as he was, scrambled into the courtyard, and there +the honey-and-powder-bedaubed form fell prone into the heaps of +eider-down which covered the ground, and sprawled helplessly about till +he was covered with plumage from the crown of his head to the soles of +his jack-boots, and in this plight the grotesquely hideous creature +crawled up stairs on all fours in amongst his carousing companions. The +man no longer resembled any known beast of the Old or New Worlds. He was +black and white all over: white where he was not black, and black where +he was not white. Perhaps he had some distant resemblance to a polar +bear with a hide of feathers instead of hair, but his roaring was like +the roaring of a hippopotamus. It is therefore not surprising that when +the Szeklers beheld this strange monster crawling towards them on all +fours and bellowing loudly, they should take to their heels in terror, +scatter to all points of the compass, and leave the flesh-filled kettle +in the lurch. Most of them took the shortest but most dangerous way out +of the window, exclaiming—"That is Banfi's devil! Here comes Banfi's +devil!"</p> + +<p>The Szekler, perceiving the success of his involuntary masquerade, sent +after the fugitives a still more ghastly howl, took the amphora down +from the chain, sat down with it in the middle of the parquetted floor, +thrust both hands into it at once like a demon of the woods, and gobbled +and roared alternately.</p> + +<p>And these savage scenes took place in the very same chamber where, only +a few days before, the delicate form of Dame Banfi had appeared among +her jasmines and mimosas like a melancholy shade from fairyland which +only listens with its soul and speaks with its eyes.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Meanwhile Denis Banfi, after breaking through the ambush laid for him at +Koppad, began, as the noise of the pursuit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> gradually died away, to look +about him in the star-bright night, and picked his way so carefully +through woods and over stubble-fields that, at dawn of day, he saw +before him the towers of Klausenburg.</p> + +<p>Once rid of the terrors of pursuit, anger and revenge began to rage +within him. He thought at first that this night attack was simply an +audacious conspiracy of his private enemies concocted without the +knowledge of the Prince, on the principle that an accomplished act is +more easily justifiable than an act that has still to be accomplished. +But the attempt had not succeeded, and the escaped lion had both the +will and the power to turn upon his pursuers and teach them respect for +the laws.</p> + +<p>In the plain before the town Banfi's troops were just going through +their morning exercises when their leader came galloping up to them, +pale, agitated, unarmed, and without either hat or mantle. His captains +hastened towards him, aghast and curious.</p> + +<p>"I've just escaped from a murderous assault," said Banfi, with a hoarse +voice and a heaving breast; "my enemies have treacherously fallen upon +me. I have escaped them, but my wife is in their hands. I recognized the +voices of Daczo and Kornis among my pursuers."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and Daczo's name is embroidered on this saddle-cloth," said +Michael Angel.</p> + +<p>Banfi appeared much disturbed. His face was dark and troubled, as if +neither the future nor the past was quite clear to him.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand it at all," said he to his captains. "If the attack +was by the Prince's command, I ought to have been served beforehand with +a writ, a citation, or, at the very least, a notice of judgment. If +however it be only an act of private vengeance, my band is more than +sufficient to reach these honest Szeklers. In any case, you will remain +under arms before the town while I go up to my castle. In a few hours I +shall know whither we have to turn."</p> + +<p>Thereupon Banfi rode into the town, accompanied by Michael Angel. As he +turned the corner of his palace, he was obliged to pass over the ground +where the house of Dame Saint Pauli had formerly stood. All that +remained of it now was a large stone, and Banfi, chancing to look in +that direction, saw the mistress of the vanished house sitting on that +single stone, and evidently awaiting him. He turned impatiently away, +but she arose, curtseyed low, and cried derisively<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, your Excellency! Good-morning!"</p> + +<p>Banfi haughtily rode on without a word. At the palace gate the castellan +of Bonczhida awaited him, who, after escaping from the violence of the +Szeklers, had discreetly kept his evil tidings secret, and now told his +lord, in a hurried whisper, that his castle had been turned upside down, +and the Szeklers were making merry there to their hearts' content.</p> + +<p>Banfi answered not a syllable, but he sent for his armour and his +charger, and calmly got ready to depart.</p> + +<p>"Your lordship would do well to hasten," said the castellan; "by this +time the Szeklers must have penetrated into the state apartments."</p> + +<p>"It is well," replied Banfi, walking up and down the room with folded +arms.</p> + +<p>"No, my lord; it is not well. They have smashed to pieces everything in +the rooms, torn the carpets to shreds, divided among them the +curiosities, flooded the cellars with wine, and even made away with the +horses."</p> + +<p>"It does not matter," replied the magnate hoarsely. What cared he at +that moment for his costliest treasures, his wine, his horses?</p> + +<p>"They have done still worse, my lord. They forced their way into her +ladyship's bedroom, set up the bust of her ladyship as a target, and +mutilated it horribly amidst peals of laughter."</p> + +<p>"What! My wife's bust?" cried Banfi, putting his hand to his sword. "My +wife's bust did you say?" repeated he with sparkling eyes. "Ha!" he +roared, and tearing his sword from its sheath, raised his face to heaven +with an expression which no one had ever seen there before. It was like +the face of a furious tiger chained down by force, with bloodshot eyes, +thick starting veins in the forehead, and lips thirsting after blood. +"God be gracious and merciful to them!" cried he, with a terrible voice, +threw himself upon his horse, and hastened to his host.</p> + +<p>"My friends!" cried he, ere yet he had had time to marshal their ranks. +"A marauding swarm of hornets has fallen upon my castle and plundered +it. They have smashed everything in my rooms, emptied my stables, stolen +or destroyed my family treasures. All that troubles me little. Let the +half-starved wretches eat and drink their fill! Let them keep what they +have got! Let them rob, burn, and ravage if they will, poor devils! I am +still the master of many mansions,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> and can pay off this beggarly +Szekler crew out of one pocket. But they have defaced the image of my +wife!—my wife I say! Therefore will I take vengeance upon them, a +fearful vengeance. Follow me! The trees of the orchards of Bonczhida +have not borne fruit for a long time. We will now hang fruit upon them +ourselves!"</p> + +<p>The enthusiastic shouts of the squadrons proved that the host was ready +to follow Banfi whithersoever he might choose to lead it. The captains +marshalled their divisions, and the second flourish of trumpets had +already sounded, when a company of twelve horsemen suddenly appeared in +front of Banfi's host. In the foremost of this company they recognized +the Prince's herald, a broad-shouldered man of gigantic stature, who +boldly rode up to Banfi and his staff, and raising his escutcheoned +bâton, cried—"Halt!"</p> + +<p>"Use your eyes! We <i>are</i> halting!" retorted Michael Angel.</p> + +<p>"In the name of his Highness, the Prince, I cite you, Denis Banfi, to +appear within three days before the Privy Council at Karoly-Fehervár, +there to defend yourself as best you may against the charges brought +against you. Till then your consort remains in our hands as a hostage +for your good behaviour."</p> + +<p>"We <i>are</i> coming," retorted Michael Angel; "don't you see that we are +already about to start? We only wanted to know whither, and now we know +it."</p> + +<p>"Silence, captain!" cried Banfi; "one must not jest with the Prince's +ambassador."</p> + +<p>The herald next turned to the captains.</p> + +<p>"This citation does not concern you. I have a very different message to +deliver to you in the Prince's name."</p> + +<p>"You had better keep your message to yourself, or I'll speak a word in +your ears which will make them tingle," jeered one of the captains, +aiming at the herald with his pistol.</p> + +<p>"Down with your weapons," exclaimed Banfi; "let him proclaim the +Prince's mandate. Give him room that he may speak freely."</p> + +<p>The herald rose in his stirrups, and looking along the ranks cried +aloud—</p> + +<p>"The Prince forbids you from henceforth to obey Banfi! Whoever takes up +weapons for him is a traitor!"</p> + +<p>"You're a traitor yourself," roared Michael Angel, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> the next moment +the crowd fell furiously upon the herald, with loud cries of "Kill him! +kill him!" A hundred blades flashed simultaneously over his head.</p> + +<p>"Hold!" cried Banfi in a voice of thunder, covering the herald with his +body; "this man's person is sacred and inviolable. To your places! +Sheathe your swords! I—your leader—command it!"</p> + +<p>"Eljen! eljen!" roared the brigades, and at the word of command they +fell back into their places and stood there like an iron wall.</p> + +<p>"You will not be very angry with me," said Banfi to the herald, who had +suddenly turned deadly pale, "you will not be very angry with me, I +hope, for making them obey me this once? Go back to the Prince and tell +him that in three days I will appear before him."</p> + +<p>"And tell him that we will be there too," cried the captains in chorus.</p> + +<p>The herald and his suite withdrew. Banfi moodily bent his head.</p> + +<p>The third flourish of trumpets had already sounded, and the banners were +all unfurled; but Banfi still continued staring blankly, darkly, dumbly +before him.</p> + +<p>"Draw your sword, my lord!" cried Angel; "place yourself at our head, +and let us start. First to Bonczhida and then to Fehervár."</p> + +<p>"What do you say?" said Banfi, with a start. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"I say that if the law of the sword is to try you, the sword must also +be your defence."</p> + +<p>"And such a process is generally called <i>civil war</i>!"</p> + +<p>"We have not kindled it."</p> + +<p>"Nor will we fan it. 'Tis no longer, I see, a struggle against my +personal enemies, but against the Prince, and he is the head of the +land."</p> + +<p>"And are not you its right arm? If they choose to light up the flames of +civil war, we will not allow it to be quenched in your blood."</p> + +<p>"And why should my blood flow at all? Have I committed any capital +offence? Can I even be charged with such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"You are powerful, and that is a sufficient reason for killing you."</p> + +<p>"I care not. I'll go, and what is more, alone. My wife<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> is in their +hands. They have the power to make me feel their wrath in the most +painful way, and if there were no other reason for appearing, it is my +knightly duty to release her."</p> + +<p>"You can save both her and yourself much more efficaciously by force of +arms."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to fear. I have done nothing for which I need blush in +the sight of justice, and if they plot privily against me, are not you +here? Summon hither my Somlyo troops as well, and only intervene if they +practise foul play."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord! that army is good for nothing which is abandoned by its +leader. To-day it would go through fire and water for you, and is even +ready to proclaim you Prince; but to-morrow, when it hears that you have +appeared before the court, it will disperse and deny you."</p> + +<p>"They need know nothing of my resolution. I'll immediately take coach +and go to Fehervár. Tell the troops I've gone to Somlyo to collect my +other forces, and keep them under arms till you hear from me."</p> + +<p>With that Banfi rode off to Klausenburg, and Michael Angel irritably +stuck his sword into its sheath and told the troops that they might rest +if they felt tired.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>An hour later Banfi was rolling in a carriage-and-four towards Torda, on +his way to Fehervár; a mounted servant led a spare horse after him by +the bridle.</p> + +<p>The further he withdrew from the seat of his power, the more anxious he +became. His soul wavered. He began to see phantoms at every step. Only +his pride prevented him from turning back again.</p> + +<p>Everything now wore a different aspect. He could read in the looks and +salutations of all whom he met what they thought of him. A smile was a +sign of compassion; a mere nod, a token of ill-will. He stopped to speak +to every one, even to very slight acquaintances, even to those whom he +had hitherto looked down upon or had never regarded at all. He even +condescended to question them. In the hour of misfortune it is wonderful +how a man recollects all his acquaintances. At such a time he who once +haughtily rejected the hand of friendship is ready to meet his very +enemy half-way.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he perceived an open carriage coming towards him from Torda, +and in it sat a man wrapped up in a grey cloak, in whom, as he passed, +Banfi recognized Martin Kuncz, the Unitarian bishop; he called to him to +stop for a moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> The bishop, not hearing him for the clatter of the +wheels, simply doffed his hat and drove on. Banfi thought he did it on +purpose, and took it for a very bad omen. He who ordinarily treated all +danger so lightly, now recoiled before the veriest bugbears. He stopped +his carriage, and taking horse bade his coachman drive on to Torda and +await him there. In the meantime he galloped after the bishop's +carriage, whereupon the bishop, catching sight of him, stopped and +awaited the magnate, who cried to him from a distance—</p> + +<p>"So you will not answer when I speak to you, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I am at your lordship's command. I did not know that you wished to +speak to me."</p> + +<p>"You know my situation, I suppose? What do you think of it? What ought I +to do?"</p> + +<p>"In such a case, my lord, it is as difficult to give advice as to take +it."</p> + +<p>"I have resolved to appear to the citation."</p> + +<p>"Really, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to fear. I feel that my cause is just."</p> + +<p>"No doubt; but it does not follow that you will get justice because your +cause is just. In this world anything is possible."</p> + +<p>Banfi understood the allusion. He had formerly said the very same words +to the bishop, and now he had not even sufficient strength of mind to +leave him and go on his way defiantly; on the contrary, he dallied with +him for some time longer.</p> + +<p>"The Prince indeed is my enemy; but the Princess has always defended me, +and I have every confidence in her Highness."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but unfortunately the Prince has quarrelled with his consort. They +say that he even forbids her to enter his apartments."</p> + +<p>This answer seemed to quite confound Banfi; but he had still one hope +left.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe they'd dare to do me mischief, for they know that at +Klausenburg and Somlyo I have armies in battle array which can call them +to account at any moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord, it is difficult to direct an army from the walls of a +prison, and you know very well that a live dog is stronger than a dead +lion."</p> + +<p>These words seemed to produce a great change in Banfi. For a time he +moodily rode by Kuncz's carriage; then, after a long pause, he replied +in a very low voice—"You are right,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> gave his horse the spur, and rode +back to Klausenburg with the firm resolve of not allowing himself to be +enticed from his stronghold.</p> + +<p>On reaching the spot where scarcely six hours before he had restrained +the enthusiastic ardour of his troops, he was much surprised to find a +band of gipsies apparently searching for something on the ground.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?" cried he, as he came up to them.</p> + +<p>At this question their leader came forward, and recognizing Banfi, +humbly doffed his cap.</p> + +<p>"Verily, your Excellency, the gipsies have come hither to collect the +cartridges which the brave and noble gentlemen have scattered about +here."</p> + +<p>"But where then are the gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"Gone, your Excellency."</p> + +<p>"But why, and whither?"</p> + +<p>"The moment they heard your lordship had quitted +Klausenburg—whew!—they dispersed in all directions."</p> + +<p>"And Michael Angel?"</p> + +<p>"He was the first to depart."</p> + +<p>Banfi felt sick and dizzy. The tears rushed to his eyes. To be so +abandoned by every one, by Fate, by his fellow-men, and even by his own +self-confidence! What now remained of all his former might? Whither +should he turn? What should he devise? Every way was closed against him. +Neither with the sword of justice nor with the sword of battle could he +fight. There was no hope and no refuge.</p> + +<p>His horse carried him whither it would. The magnate sat upon it with a +darkened face, staring blankly at the clouds or on the ground. The +earth, the sky, and his own heart—everything within him and around him +was dark and desolate. Hitherto his soul had been so full of pride that +there was no room for anything else, and now all his pride was gone, and +had left a hideous blank behind it. On, on he went; but it was his horse +that chose the road. Vast forests lay before him, and he thought—What +lies beyond those forests? Lofty hills. And what beyond the hills? Still +higher hills. And what then? The snowy peaks. And nowhere was there any +refuge or shelter for him! So at the very first stroke every one had +fallen away from him, and he who only the day before had ruled over the +half of Transylvania, and held fortresses at his disposal, cannot even +find a hut to shelter him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> from the night. Or shall he give himself up +to the derision of his enemies, and not even have the poor satisfaction +of meeting death with front erect and a smiling countenance? Shall he +perish ignobly like a hunted beast? He fell a-thinking. If die he must, +he would at least die like a man. But how?</p> + +<p>Gradually a thought began to dawn in his benighted soul, and with that +thought the colour returned to his cheeks. Slowly he raised his head, +and this secret thought ripening into a quick resolution, it was as +though a voice within him cried—"Yes! Thither! thither!" His eyes began +to sparkle, he turned his horse's head towards the forest, and +disappeared beneath the thick foliage.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The tempest is raging. The storm snaps the trees. The rain patters down, +and the swollen torrents roar. From time to time fitful lightning +flashes illumine the whole region, and snowy mountain peaks grow dark +and the black sky gleams white—and again the sky darkens and the snowy +peaks shine forth.</p> + +<p>The scanty patches of brushwood clinging to the bald rocks are rudely +torn and shaken by the hurricane, and the distant pine forests roar like +the last trump. Every beast crouches trembling in its den and listens to +the storm.</p> + +<p>Lofty, inaccessibly steep rocks shut out the horizon, and far, far down +in the vale below, like a toiling ant, we see a horseman struggling +through the pathless wilderness.</p> + +<p>God be merciful to him in such a night in such a place!</p> + +<p>It is the Devil's Garden!</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>A gorgeous oriental chamber opens out before us. Round about the walls +gleam hundreds of torches; but the ceiling is so lofty that it is +invisible, the light of the torches never reaches it. Two rows of +columns support the gigantic architrave, slender columns with capitals +in the shape of beasts' heads, as we are wont to see them in ancient +Persian temples. Splendid curtains fill up the interstices of the +columns. Moorish arabesques adorn the walls; the arched portals are +ablaze with gold and malachite. In the centre of the room a lofty red +velvet couch rests on four gold griffins with amethyst eyes. In front of +the couch is a little ivory table, supported by intertwining silver +snakes, and beside the table a golden censer exhales light-blue fragrant +clouds of ambergris and aloes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> On the couch reclines a sylph-like girl +with languishing and yet ardent eyes. A string of pearls, dependent from +her neck, draws her light tunic up to her bosom. Her slender form is +girdled round the hips by a gorgeous oriental shawl. Her black locks are +held together by a golden fillet, which encircles her brows, and the +huge diamond clasp of this fillet flashes its myriad blinding rays +amidst her dark tresses, like a rainbow condensed into a star gleaming +through darkest night.</p> + +<p>The girl is alone. Everything around her is motionless. We seem to be in +an enchanted fairy palace. Nowhere a sound, a movement.</p> + +<p>Who would ever have thought of finding such a magic chamber in the +bowels of the earth, six hundred feet within the solid rock, on the +surface of which the storm is worrying the hardy shrubs and trees?</p> + +<p>It is the crypt of the Devil's Garden, and the woman, sylph or demon, +who inhabits it is Azrael.</p> + +<p>How can this woman live here so lonely, so far from everything human?</p> + +<p>And yet, why not? She is a whole world, a hell, to herself. Within the +resounding walls of the populous harem she felt herself lonely, and she +peoples this vast vault with the creations of her own wild fancy. Here +she shapes the future, forms endless plans, dreams of battles, of +intoxicating love, of more than earthly might, of new realms of which +she is the Queen, the Sun surrounded by her starry train.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a light trampling is heard overhead, as if some one were riding +over the vaulted roof. Azrael arises and listens. The sound of footsteps +is audible in the corridors, and presently three familiar, measured +knocks are heard at the doors.</p> + +<p>"'Tis he!" she whispers; springs from her couch, hastens to the door, +draws back the heavy bolts, tears the door violently open, and falls +into the arms of him who enters.</p> + +<p>"At last! at last!" she murmurs, twining her arms round the man's neck +and pressing her cheeks to his lips.</p> + +<p>The man is Denis Banfi.</p> + +<p>Sad, speechless, broken as he never was before, he does not even greet +the girl as he enters. He seems to freeze, all his limbs are trembling. +He has left his tiger-skin outside, but the drenching rain has soaked +him through and through.</p> + +<p>"Thou art wet to the skin," says the girl. "Quick! warm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> thyself. Thou +hast come from afar. Thou dost need repose," and dragging Banfi to her +couch, she took off his dolman, covered him with her own costly ermine +mantle, placed under his feet soft velvet cushions, which she first +warmed over the steaming censer, and pressing the man's frozen hands to +her throbbing bosom, warmed them there.</p> + +<p>Yet Banfi remained dumb. Misfortune seemed to be written on his +forehead. A far less practised eye, a far less penetrating genius than +Azrael's, could have seen at a glance that he was no longer the haughty +magnate he had been, but a fallen viceroy, whose fall was all the +greater because he had stood so high; who had come to her, not because +he had forsaken every one, but because every one had forsaken him; whom +not pleasure but despair had brought to this place.</p> + +<p>"I have been waiting for thee!" cried the girl, burying her head in +Banfi's bosom, while he played involuntarily with her rich tresses. "To +me thy absence is an eternity, thy presence but a fleeting moment."</p> + +<p>Not for all the world would Azrael have let Banfi perceive that she had +observed the change in him. She pushed a little round stool in front of +the couch, took up her mandolin, and began to sing with a voice of +thrilling sweetness one of those improvisations which the ardent +imagination of the East brings spontaneously to the lips, striking the +while with her fingers wild, fantastic chords.</p> + +<p>"If thou hast joy, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt have so much +the more. If thou hast grief, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt +have so much the less."</p> + +<p>Banfi looked at the odalisk with beetling brows.</p> + +<p>But Azrael struck fresh chords and began another song—</p> + +<p>"False is the world and all that is therein! Every day the sun forsakes +the sky. Every day the sea forsakes her shores. Every year the swallow +forsakes her nest. But the maiden who loves never forsakes her beloved."</p> + +<p>Still Banfi remained silent. There he sat with staring, bloodshot eyes, +his head resting on his elbows, like a poor, mortally-wounded lion.</p> + +<p>And again the odalisk sang—</p> + +<p>"If choice were thine, which wouldst thou choose—love with hell, or +heaven without love?"</p> + +<p>Banfi stretched out his arms towards Azrael, and as the odalisk, casting +away her mandolin, bent down to kiss his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> hand, he drew her to his +breast, and the odalisk, softly stroking Banfi's forehead, said—</p> + +<p>"What mean these wrinkles on thy noble brow, which I have never seen +there before? Vainly do I charm them away with my kisses; they come back +again and again. Wait!—I'll cover them with this diadem. So!—how well +a kingly crown becomes thy brow!"</p> + +<p>Banfi uttered an inarticulate cry, tore the diadem from his head, and +hurled it far away, while with the other hand he roughly repulsed the +girl. Every line of his face proclaimed his agony of mind. The odalisk +looked into his face and could read there everything which had happened.</p> + +<p>This passionate outburst, however, aroused Banfi from out of his dull +despondency. He sprang from the couch, resumed with an effort his usual +proud, devil-may-care look, and raising the girl into the air cried, +with bitter, scornful mirth—</p> + +<p>"Bring me wine! To-day I'll make merry! Over our heads the storm is +howling—let it howl! We'll laugh at it, eh! my pretty wench? To-day is +ours! On this one day we'll heap together everything which can bring +bliss and mad delight, so as to leave nothing for the morrow. Wine and +kisses and music—and hell-fire!"</p> + +<p>The girl skipped away like a chamois, and came back like a Hebe with a +large silver salver covered with gold goblets.</p> + +<p>"No, not the golden pocals!" cried Banfi. "They won't break when we dash +them against the wall. Serve the wine in Venetian crystals."</p> + +<p>The odalisk obediently brought forth the gorgeously-coloured and gilded +Venetian glasses, then so much in vogue, and pushed a broad, +short-legged table close to the couch.</p> + +<p>"Come, embrace me!" cried Banfi, drawing the girl to his bosom, and +gazing into her abysmal black eyes.</p> + +<p>"My love is an endless sea," whispered the girl, her hands resting on +Banfi's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"My desire is as hell itself, which drinks to the very dregs!" cried +Banfi, embracing the odalisk and pressing a burning kiss on her lips, as +if he would have drunk in her very soul.</p> + +<p>With that he seized the first glass that came to hand; the wine sparkled +in the torch-light. Azrael's kisses had not yet softened his heart. With +bitter scorn he raised the glass, and cried—</p> + +<p>"I drink to my friends."</p> + +<p>He drained it to the last drop, and hurled it contemptuously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> against +the wall, so that it was shivered to pieces. Immediately afterwards he +seized a second glass—</p> + +<p>"I drink to my enemies."</p> + +<p>With a wild peal of laughter he hurled the second glass into the air. In +its flight it almost reached the ceiling, but it fell back again on the +couch and did not break.</p> + +<p>"See, it mocks me and will not break!" exclaimed Banfi, with sparkling +eyes.</p> + +<p>Azrael sprang up, seized the glass, and crushed it beneath her foot.</p> + +<p>In Banfi's heart the flames of three passions began to mingle—wrath, +intoxication, and frantic love.</p> + +<p>He raised the third glass to his lips, and while the girl held his body +fast embraced, Banfi exclaimed, with flushed face and strident voice—</p> + +<p>"I drink to Transylvania."</p> + +<p>He drained the glass, but when he took it from his lips, the smile had +frozen on his face, and instead of dashing the glass against the wall, +he placed it gently on the table. A cold shudder ran through him at his +own words—"I drink to Transylvania."</p> + +<p>He did not remove his hand from the glass, and would shyly have put it +aside in a safe place, when the crystal, without any visible cause, +suddenly burst in pieces, filling the magnate's hand with a million +fragments.</p> + +<p>The diamond ring on his finger had scratched the glass, which, as all +badly-cooled crystals are wont to do, shivered instantly at the contact, +scattering its sparkling fragments in every direction like a Bologna +flask.</p> + +<p>Banfi shrank shuddering back at this phenomenon and hid his face in +Azrael's bosom, as if he had seen a portentous enchantment.</p> + +<p>The girl, however, impetuously seized her glass and cried exultantly—</p> + +<p>"I drink to our love."</p> + +<p>Her voice broke the spell of Banfi's sobering horror and plunged him +into frenzied joy. He caught the slim, supple body of the odalisk in his +arms, and pressed her to him with the strength of a boa-constrictor: she +was almost stifled in his embrace.</p> + +<p>"I know not what you have given me to drink," stammered Banfi, "but I +have lost my head. I am beside myself for love."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>"Then take heed that thou dost not faint. Long hast thou let me +languish, and I swore that when next thou camest, to murder thee in thy +sleep, so that thou mightest never forsake me more."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do it, do it," whispered he, and drawing his dagger from his girdle +and stretching himself at full length upon the couch, he laid bare his +breast with one hand and gave the girl the dagger with the other.</p> + +<p>Azrael, with demoniacal ferocity, grasped the dagger by its beryl +handle, and threw herself like an armed Fury upon Banfi, who looked at +her with a frenzied smile as the sharp edge of the dagger grazed his +breast. Then the weapon fell from the hand of the odalisk, and the +madly-distended eyes and lips resumed their languishing smile.</p> + +<p>"Kill me rather than forsake me," stammered the girl, embracing Banfi.</p> + +<p>"We'll die together, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!"</p> + +<p>"Jest not, Azrael. I am ready to do what I say."</p> + +<p>"And I am ready to die," replied the girl. "Come, I'll show thee +something,"—and with that, drawing aside the carpet, she lifted up a +trap-door, beneath which was visible through the gloom a deeper, lower +room, supported by short, stout, arched columns, close beside which a +number of large barrels had been placed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Banfi, "I know. In that cellar I have hidden the gunpowder +which I saved after John Kemeny's fall."</p> + +<p>"Look at this long nitrous linstock," said Azrael, drawing up the end of +a thick cotton coil out of the cellar; "the barrels are connected with +it, and many a time when thou hast been with me have I had the end of +this lunt under the cushions of my couch, and held in my couch the torch +which was to have kindled it whilst thou wert sleeping with thy head +upon my breast, and I lay and listened calmly for the explosion which +was to send us both to heaven or to hell."</p> + +<p>"And you were afraid to do it?"</p> + +<p>"Not for myself. But I reflected that thou wert not thine own but thy +country's."</p> + +<p>"I belong to no one now."</p> + +<p>"Thy mind was so full of lofty plans. Destiny chose thee to be a Prince +among men, a hero among the kings of the earth whose name should fill +the pages of history."</p> + +<p>"All that is over now," cried Banfi, with drunken self-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>forgetfulness. +"I am nobody and nothing. The vault beneath this floor is all that +belongs to me. In the world without I am a fugitive and a vagabond."</p> + +<p>"Ha!" hissed Azrael. "Then thy enemies have triumphed over thee?"</p> + +<p>"My curse be upon their heads! I had compassion upon them, so I have +perished."</p> + +<p>"Is Csaky also among thy persecutors?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he is my most pitiless pursuer."</p> + +<p>"And have all thy faithful friends deserted thee?"</p> + +<p>"The fallen has no faithful friends."</p> + +<p>"Thou mightst hire mercenaries and begin the struggle anew. Thou art +rich enough."</p> + +<p>"My wealth has gone."</p> + +<p>"Thou mightst beg for help from foreign lands."</p> + +<p>"That would be treason against my country. I have fallen and know what +awaits me. I must die. But my enemies shall not triumph at my death as +at a festival, or laugh aloud to see me go pale and downcast to my doom. +I will die alone."</p> + +<p>"By Allah, thou shalt not die alone! Come, let us fill our glasses. +Accursed be the world! we'll speak of it no more. Come, stifle thy soul +in the delirium of joy, and when thy drooping head sinks down upon my +breast, I will light the end of this lunt. Thou shalt dream of bliss, of +paradise, of kisses ravished and returned; the twofold throbbing of our +hearts shall beat the minutes; here below, the stillness of death; there +above, the howling of the tempest and of thy foes; and then an +earthquaking thunder, rending and scattering the rocks, shall proclaim +to heaven and hell that none shall ever find Denis Banfi here on earth +again!"</p> + +<p>"Azrael, thou art a devil, and I love thee!" cried Banfi, and he clasped +the girl in his arms as if she had been a little child.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>An hour has passed, and the room has grown dark. The torches are +expiring. In the huge vaulted chamber no other light is visible but the +red vapour streaming from the orifices of the censer, which gleams like +a many-eyed monster, and the burning end of the linstock, lit by Banfi +in the midst of his mad orgy, crawling slowly along the room like a +fiery serpent.</p> + +<p>Naught is to be heard in the deep silence but the sighs of two lovers, +and the throbbing of two hearts.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>Banfi slept long.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he awoke. Pitch-black darkness surrounded him. It was some time +before his reeling brain could realize where he was, or why he was +there. He felt an icy wind streaming through the room, but it was only +after a long interval that he grasped the fact that a door was open +somewhere, and that the cold night air was rushing in from outside.</p> + +<p>Gradually the scenes of the by-gone night and the vows of death came +back to his mind, and he felt that he still lived. "The girl has +certainly repented of her wish to die," thought he, and he began to +grope about for her. The couch was empty.</p> + +<p>"Azrael! Azrael!" he cried repeatedly; but there was no answer.</p> + +<p>At last he tottered to his feet, and snatching some embers from the +hearth, lit a torch. The solitary, feeble light did not penetrate far, +but as far as it extended Azrael was nowhere to be seen.</p> + +<p>The first thing he perceived was the linstock cut in two by a pair of +shears.</p> + +<p>"Coward soul!" he growled, and, pierced through and through by the air, +would have put on his mantle, when a roll of parchment fell at his feet, +and picking it up he recognized Azrael's handwriting, and read as +follows—</p> + +<p>"My lord, you read not hearts aright. We give our love for our own +sakes, but we do not give ourselves for love's sake. You have frittered +away your power, and, deserted by all the world, think to find me +faithful who loved your power and that only: I am his who has inherited +that power. He who is in the ascendant I adore, but I hate and despise +the fallen. Corsar Beg's fate should have warned you that one day you +too might fare like him ..."</p> + +<p>Banfi could not read it to the end. His face grew dark with shame. "To +sink so low as this! This wretched slavish soul even while embracing me +was devising treachery! And I to wish to spend my last moments in the +arms of such a monster——" At that moment he <i>loathed</i> himself.</p> + +<p>"Cowardice and infamy! A man who has lived as I have lived, to desire +such a death! He who has always been wont to meet his foes face to face, +to hide himself from them in his last moments!—to hide himself in the +arms of a slave! Shame upon him!</p> + +<p>"This lesson has done me good. It was meet that I who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> could forget a +wife who sacrificed herself to deliver me out of the hands of my +enemies, should fall into the power of a harlot who would have betrayed +me to them. Yet even now it is not too late. My life is forfeit, but at +least I can save my honour. None shall be able to boast that he has +betrayed me. My enemies shall never say that I hid myself from them and +they found me out. I'll appear before them boldly, as I ought to have +done at first."</p> + +<p>Full of this resolution, Banfi went straightway into the secret +courtyard, where he had left his horse. He was surprised to find it no +longer there. The odalisk had taken it away with her.</p> + +<p>He smiled disdainfully.</p> + +<p>"What matters it, so long as she has not stolen me also."</p> + +<p>He returned into the rocky chamber, rekindled the lunt, came out, and +closing the iron door behind him made his way along the banks of the +cold Szamos.</p> + +<p>Towards midday he sat down on the bank to rest, and he had scarcely been +there a quarter of an hour, when he heard the trampling of horses, and +looking up—the bushes completely concealed him—beheld Ladislaus Csaky +and Azrael on horseback, side by side, at the head of an armed band. The +girl seemed to be pointing out something to Csaky on the rocks above, +and the worthy gentleman was beside himself for joy.</p> + +<p>Banfi smiled scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Poor Tartars!"</p> + +<p>As soon as the band had passed by, Banfi continued his journey. He had +not gone far when he came upon a poor peasant cleaving wood.</p> + +<p>"Dost know whither that armed band has gone?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. They have gone to capture Denis Banfi, on whose head a great +price has been set."</p> + +<p>"How much?"</p> + +<p>"If a noble capture him he will receive an estate, if a peasant, two +hundred ducats."</p> + +<p>"Little enough, but enough for you, I dare say. I am Denis Banfi."</p> + +<p>The peasant took off his cap.</p> + +<p>"Does my lord wish to be led anywhither?"</p> + +<p>"Lead me to the place where they will pay you two hundred ducats."</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>A quarter of an hour afterwards a tremendous explosion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> resounded +through the mountains, which shook the earth for half-a-mile around. The +enchanted garden of the Gradina Dracului had collapsed into an +inaccessible chaos.</p> + +<p>Csaky had fortunately lingered on the road, or he and his company would +have perished utterly.</p> + +<p>On returning, he found Banfi already under arrest, and was thus deprived +of the glory of having captured his foe with his own hand. He +immediately hastened to accost him, and, with exquisite malice, brought +with him the odalisk, who looked at Banfi as if she had never seen him +before.</p> + +<p>Banfi, however, since his voluntary surrender, had quite resumed his +former sangfroid, and looking contemptuously over his shoulder at Csaky, +said—</p> + +<p>"So your Excellency means in future to wear my cast-off clothes, eh?"</p> + +<p>At this bitter jest Azrael hissed like a snake upon whose tail one has +suddenly trodden, whilst Csaky blushed up to his ears and tried hard to +smile.</p> + +<p>"Does your Excellency desire any favour from me?" asked Csaky presently, +with insulting commiseration.</p> + +<p>"None from <i>your</i> Excellency. I came here of my own free will, and have +been arrested I know not why. My wife, therefore, can now be set free."</p> + +<p>"So at last we begin to whine for our wife, eh?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary. So far from wishing to meet her, I desire that as soon +as I am put in prison she should be let go."</p> + +<p>"It shall be as you desire, my lord!" replied Csaky, with ironical +benevolence.</p> + +<p>Banfi requited him with a look of the most withering contempt, and +turning to the jailers entered into conversation with them: the magnates +he no longer regarded.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>When Teleki heard of the capture of Banfi, he ordered him to be sent at +once to Bethlen Castle, to make the world believe that the anti-Banfi +faction was headed, not by him, but by Beldi, to whom the castle +belonged.</p> + +<p>On his way thither, the captive magnate learnt that his consort had +already been released, and thus relieved of his one remaining anxiety, +cared little for the rest.</p> + +<p>On reaching Bethlen Castle he was received by the Rev. Stephen Pataky, +Rector of Klausenburg, to whom he cried jocosely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"So they've appointed you my father confessor, eh?"</p> + +<p>Pataky wept bitterly, but Banfi only smiled.</p> + +<p>The jailer conducted Banfi up the steps with every demonstration of +respect.</p> + +<p>Banfi turned round to him.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will let Reverend Master Pataky remain with me all the +time?" said he.</p> + +<p>Pataky was understood to say through his sobs—</p> + +<p>"Truly your Excellency will find far better company awaiting you than +any my poor self can offer."</p> + +<p>Banfi, not knowing what to say to this, only shrugged his shoulders and +hastened towards the door of his prison, but remained standing on the +threshold transfixed with astonishment. In the room was a lady in deep +mourning, who turned very pale on perceiving him, and clung to the table +unable to utter a word.</p> + +<p>Banfi felt all his blood rush to his heart. The next moment he darted +impetuously forward and cried—</p> + +<p>"My wife! Margaret!"</p> + +<p>The lady threw herself upon her husband's breast and sobbed aloud.</p> + +<p>"What! have they not released you?" inquired Banfi anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I would not be released," answered Margaret. "How <i>could</i> I forsake you +in your prison?"</p> + +<p>The tears came to Banfi's eyes. Speechless he sank to the ground, and +covered her hands with glowing kisses.</p> + +<p>"While we were what the world calls happy we might avoid each other," +said Margaret, with a choking voice, "but misfortune has brought us +together again," and she bowed her head to kiss her husband's forehead.</p> + +<p>Banfi fell senseless at her feet. It was more than even his strong soul +could bear.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_X" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE SENTENCE.</span></h2> + + +<p>The Diet, hastily summoned to Fehervár, strongly disapproved of the +secret proceedings against Banfi. Paul Beldi was the first to declare +that even if Banfi could be arrested by means of a league, a Diet was +the only tribunal which could try him, and insisted that he should have +every opportunity of defending himself.</p> + +<p>The Prince came to the Diet with red eyes, an aching head, and a very +irritable temper—the usual witnesses of a drunken debauch.</p> + +<p>Teleki, finding the Diet beyond his control, got Apafi to dissolve it, +by persuading him that if Banfi were brought before it he would escape +altogether, and even turn the two-edged sword of justice against the +Prince himself.</p> + +<p>In the Privy Council itself, Kozma Horvath's opposition to the +extra-judicial prosecution was all in vain. The league drew up +thirty-seven articles of accusation against Banfi, and the magnate was +impeached.</p> + +<p>Most of these articles were so utterly frivolous as to need no reply. +Banfi's real offence was his pretension to the throne, and this they +dared not bring forward at all.</p> + +<p>Banfi manfully replied on every count. In vain. Defend himself as he +might, his adversaries knew only too well how much they had offended +him: they could not afford to let him live.</p> + +<p>The matter came to the vote.</p> + +<p>Banfi was condemned to death.</p> + +<p>On the day when this took place, no one could get at the Prince except +the members of the league, who were constantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> going in and out of +Apafi's apartments with hasty steps and eager faces.</p> + +<p>Towards evening they succeeded in bringing the besotted Prince to sign +the sentence. It was no longer possible to recognize in the +spectre-haunted drunkard the mild and gentle Prince, who had had a tear +for the sorrows of the meanest of his servants.</p> + +<p>Saddled horses and long rows of carriages had been standing before the +castle gates since midday. Suddenly Ladislaus Csaky came very hastily +out of the castle with a document hidden in the folds of his pelisse, +and calling for his horse, mounted, nodded significantly to the other +gentlemen who had followed him out, and galloped away. The other +gentlemen thereupon leapt into their carriages, or on to their horses, +with as much expedition as if some one was pursuing them, and exchanging +hurried whispers, decamped so swiftly that in a few moments the Prince +was left entirely alone.</p> + +<p>Teleki was the last who quitted him. The Prince accompanied the minister +to the very end of the ante-chamber. Black care was written in his face. +He would hardly let Teleki go.</p> + +<p>Teleki coldly withdrew his hand from the Prince's grasp.</p> + +<p>"You have no need to brood over it, sir. It is not a question of the +life of a man, but of the welfare of a state. If my own neck had stood +in the way, I would have said, Hew it off! I say the same when it is +another's."</p> + +<p>With that he took his leave.</p> + +<p>Apafi could not remain in his room. He was obliged to go out into the +fresh open air. Inside something seemed to choke him, the air was so +oppressive—or was it his own conscience? He went into the garden. The +cool night air soothed his throbbing head; the sight of the starry +heaven did good to his darkened soul. Leaning over the balcony, he +looked amazedly out into the quiet night, as if he expected a star +larger than all the rest to fall from heaven, or some one miles and +miles away to call him by name.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a scream fell on his ear.</p> + +<p>He looked around with a shudder, and terror made him speechless—before +him stood his consort, whom his counsellors had kept away from him for +weeks.</p> + +<p>The moment the last magnate had departed, her own faithful servants told +her that the Prince had signed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> death-warrant, and the terrified +woman, breaking through the castle guards, rushed after Apafi, found him +in the garden, seized him roughly, and shrieking rather than speaking in +her agitation, exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Oh, accursed, accursed wretch! Thou hast shed innocent blood!"</p> + +<p>Apafi tried to avoid his wife. He feared her.</p> + +<p>"What do you want with me?" he asked in a hollow voice. "What do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"You have signed Banfi's death-warrant."</p> + +<p>"I!" cried Apafi feebly, trying to catch hold of his wife's hand.</p> + +<p>"Away with that hand, monster! It is stained with my kinsman's blood."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't consent to it?" stammered the abject creature. "Neither +did I, but the magnates constrained me."</p> + +<p>The Princess smote her hands together, and looked at her consort +despairingly.</p> + +<p>"You have brought blood on our family! You have brought a curse on the +land and on me! Oh, why did I not let you perish in the hands of the +Tartars? Where you are concerned virtue itself becomes a sin."</p> + +<p>Apafi was crushed. Alone with his wife, he was something less than a +man.</p> + +<p>"I did not wish to kill him," he blurted out, "nor do I now; and if you +wish it, I'll reprieve him. Here, take my signet-ring. Send a horseman +after Csaky to Bethlen Castle. Reprieve your cousin and leave me in +peace."</p> + +<p>"What ho, there! Who is without?" shrieked the Princess.</p> + +<p>The domestic servants came pouring in, headed by the pantler.</p> + +<p>"Take four of the Prince's swiftest horses with you," cried Anna, as she +wrote out the pardon with her own hand and made her husband sign and +seal it. "Take this letter and hasten to Bethlen Castle. If one of the +horses falls under you, take the others. Stop not an instant on the +road! A man's life is in your hands!"</p> + +<p>The grooms led forward the swift horses; the pantler swung himself into +the saddle, and, leading the other three horses by the bridles, galloped +away.</p> + +<p>The Princess impatiently followed him with her eyes till he was out of +sight, and then went up to her room again; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> unable to rest there +long, she came down once more, sent for her faithful old servant Andrew, +and giving him an old piece of green velvet,<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> set him on horseback +and sent him after the pantler.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Green velvet was the symbol of the princely dignity in +Transylvania.</p></div> + +<p>"If the Prince's reprieve arrives too late, this will be a cere-cloth +wherein to wrap the murdered man."</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Paul Beldi called his +chief groom, bade him mount his swiftest horse, ride to Bethlen Castle, +and inform the castellan there that he would cut his head off if the +slightest harm happened to Banfi at Bethlen. He too dared not face his +wife at that moment.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Michael Teleki pressed +the hand of his future son-in-law Tököli, and whispered in his ear, "We +are a step nearer." And beneath the pressure of the youth's iron hand, +the engagement ring which knitted him to Teleki's daughter snapped in +two, and Teleki took it as an omen<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> that, one day, the hand of this +youth would be stronger than his own.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> The omen was justified when, nearly thirty years later, +Tököli defeated and slew Teleki at the battle of Zernyes, 1691.</p></div> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>That night all Transylvania was greatly disturbed. Farkas Bethlen could +not sleep in his bed all night. Stephen Apor was so unwell that he had +to send for his confessor, and Kornis lost himself so completely on his +way home that he was forced to sleep in his carriage.</p> + +<p>And what was going on in heaven? Towards midnight a storm arose, the +like of which the oldest men could not call to mind. The lightning set +forests and castles on fire; the falling clouds drove the rivers out of +their beds. The alarm bells resounded everywhere. God sat in judgment +over the land that night. The whole population was sleepless.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Only the reconciled consorts slept calmly.</p> + +<p>With one arm under her husband's head and the other embracing him, the +pale and fragile lady fell asleep. At times she wept in her dreams, and +her tears fell on the pillow. She was dreaming of her happy bridal days, +and of that sweet moment when she had laid her first and only child in +her husband's arms, and she pressed him more closely to her, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> he +lay sleeping there so calmly, at enmity with the world, but reconciled +to himself and to the better-half of his soul. Happiness, which had fled +him in his palace, sought him out in his dungeon.</p> + +<p>The night lamp cast its pale rays on the sleeping forms.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>Through that terrible night, four horsemen, scarcely a thousand paces +apart, are galloping at full speed towards Bethlen Castle. During the +lightning flashes they sometimes catch a glimpse of each other, and then +each of them digs his spurs more deeply into his horse's sides.</p> + +<p>The first horseman reaches the castle gate and winds the signal horn. +The drawbridge sinks groaning down; the horseman springs into the +courtyard and places a letter in the hands of the flurried castellan. It +is Paul Beldi's messenger.</p> + +<p>The horseman who next arrives at the castle orders the gates to be +opened in the name of the Prince. He hands the castellan a second +letter. It is Ladislaus Csaky.</p> + +<p>The castellan grows pale as he reads this letter.</p> + +<p>"My lord," says he, "I have just received a message from Paul Beldi, +threatening us with death in case any harm befalls the prisoner."</p> + +<p>"You have your choice," answered Csaky. "If you obey me, Beldi may +perhaps cut off your head to-morrow; but if you don't obey me, I'll cut +off your head myself this instant."</p> + +<p>The trembling castellan bowed submission.</p> + +<p>"Up with the drawbridge!" commanded Csaky. "None must enter this castle +without my permission. Whoever acts against my orders is a dead man!"</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The spouses lay tranquilly sleeping in each other's arms. A minute later +the door creaked on its hinges, and the Rev. Stephen Pataky, tearful and +terrified, entered the dungeon. His heart died within him when he saw +the consorts sleeping so calmly side by side.</p> + +<p>He stepped up to Banfi to rouse him. As he touched his hand, Banfi +awoke, and perceiving Pataky, who could not speak for emotion, tried to +disengage his head from his wife's encircling arm without awakening her. +At that very moment Lady Banfi opened her eyes. Pataky, wishing to +conceal the fatal message from her, addressed Banfi in the Latin +tongue—</p> + +<p>"<i>Surge Domine! sententia lethalis adest!</i>"<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Arise, sir, the death-warrant has come!</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>Lady Banfi, terrified by these mysterious words, the meaning of which +Pataky's face so ill concealed, asked in mortal fear what was the +matter.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, my darling! nothing!" said Banfi, embracing her with a tender +smile. "A pressing message which I must attend to at once. I'll be back +again soon! Lie down and sleep gently!"</p> + +<p>With these words he persuaded his wife to fall back upon her pillow, +kissed her repeatedly with great tenderness, and soothed her caressingly +between each kiss—"My soul! my delight! my love! my heaven!"</p> + +<p>The wife little suspected that this was the parting kiss of a man about +to meet his doom; Banfi looked at her so smilingly, feigning a joyful +countenance as he stood on the threshold of death.</p> + +<p>Then the castle horn again sounded. The Princess's first messenger had +arrived, and demanded admittance in her Highness's name.</p> + +<p>Csaky rushed hastily up-stairs, and just as Banfi, after half reassuring +his consort, was about to quit her, suddenly burst open the door, and +cried—</p> + +<p>"Why so long a leave-taking? Get ready! The sentence stays for +execution!"</p> + +<p>Lady Banfi with a piercing scream rose from her couch, and stretching +out both her arms towards Banfi, gazed speechlessly at him for a moment, +then, clutching at her heart, fell back dead upon her pillow with +wide-open eyes.</p> + +<p>Banfi looked at his enemy with the bitterness of death, his streaming +eyes hurled more curses at him than any lip could have uttered.</p> + +<p>"Base, cowardly wretch!" he moaned, "was it then part of your mandate to +murder my wife also?"</p> + +<p>Csaky turned his head away, and said in a hoarse voice—</p> + +<p>"Hasten! the time is short!"</p> + +<p>"Short for me, but it shall be long for you! For a time is coming when +you will curse the day of your birth, and will not be able to die as +calmly as I do!—Leave me!—I would fain pray; but I cannot call upon my +God while you are nigh!"</p> + +<p>Csaky, overcome despite himself, quitted the room.</p> + +<p>Banfi laid his hand on his forehead and prayed.</p> + +<p>Outside the heavens were thundering.</p> + +<p>"O God! who dost thunder on high, take my blood as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> sacrifice for my +sins, but let not a drop of it fall on the heads of those who shed it! +Suffer not my native land to pay the price of my blood! Guard this poor +land from every ill! Visit not this people in Thy anger, but be their +refuge and their sure defence in the evil day! Forgive my enemies my +death, as I forgive them!"</p> + +<p>The thunder roared terribly. God was wroth that day. He would not +hearken to such a prayer.</p> + +<p>"Is your Excellency ready?" inquired Csaky impatiently, whilst the +Princess's messengers hammered furiously at the gates, and demanded +instant admission.</p> + +<p>Banfi stepped up to his lifeless consort and kissed her cold, pale face +for the last time; then, turning calmly to Csaky, he said—</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am ready now!"</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later Csaky admitted the messengers.</p> + +<p>"What do you bring?" he asked the pantler.</p> + +<p>"The Prince's pardon for the prisoner."</p> + +<p>"You are too late!—And you?"</p> + +<p>"A cere-cloth for the corpse!"</p> + +<p>"You have brought it very opportunely."</p> + +<p>The highest head of the Transylvanian nobility had already fallen in the +dust.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p>The tragedy ends with the hero's death.</p> + +<p>The tide of history brings other shapes and other leaders to the +surface. The fate, the fashion, and the history of Transylvania are no +longer the same.<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> The sword-stroke which slew Banfi cut short an +epoch only half begun. The body of that dominating form reposes in the +crypt of the church at Bethlen, and no one has inherited his spirit.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> The subsequent fortunes of Apafi, Csaky, Teleki, Tököli, +Azrael, and Feriz are related in Jokai's second historical novel, +<i>Törökvilag Magyarorzagbán</i> (<i>The Turks in Hungary</i>), which is a sequel +to the present story, and ends with the collapse of the Turkish power in +Hungary.</p></div> + +<p>But the chronicles say that whenever danger threatens Transylvania, the +blood of the buried patriot flows from his simple tomb, a terror to the +people, and a wonder to the world.</p> + +<p class="theend">THE END.</p> + +<p class="theend"><span class="smcap">Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,<br /> +London & Bungay.</span></p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<p class="center" style="margin-left: 50%;">11, HENRIETTA STREET, W.C.,<br /> +<i>May, <span class="upright">1894.</span></i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="bigtext">BOOKS</span><br /> +<span class="smalltext">PUBLISHED BY</span><br /> +<span class="bigtext">CHAPMAN & HALL, <span class="smcap">Ld.</span></span><br /> +<span class="smalltext">(A SELECTION.)</span></p> + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Adams (Henry), M.I.C.E., etc.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>BUILDING CONSTRUCTION.</b> Key to Examinations of Science and Art +Department. 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Demy 8vo, +10s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Forsyth (Captain).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTRAL INDIA: Notes on their Forests and Wild Tribes, +Natural History and Sports. With Map and Coloured Illustrations. A New +Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Fortnum (C. D. E.), F.S.A.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">MAIOLICA. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">BRONZES. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Foster (Albert J.), M.A.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ROUND ABOUT THE CROOKED SPIRE. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Franks (A. W.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">JAPANESE POTTERY. Being a Native Report, with an Introduction. With +Illustrations and Marks. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Gardner (J. Starkie).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">IRONWORK. From the Earliest Time to the end of the Mediæval Period. With +57 Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Gasnault (Paul) and Garnier (Ed.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">FRENCH POTTERY. With Illustrations and Marks. Large crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Gleichen (Count)</b>, <i>Grenadier Guards</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">WITH THE CAMEL CORPS UP THE NILE. With numerous Sketches by the Author. +Third Edition. Large crown 8vo, 9s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Gower (A. R.)</b>, <i>Royal School of Mines</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">PRACTICAL METALLURGY. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Greville-Nugent (Hon. Mrs.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A LAND OF MOSQUES AND MARABOUTS. Illustrated. Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Griffiths (Major Arthur).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">SECRETS OF THE PRISON HOUSE: Gaol Studies and Sketches. With +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">G. D. Rowlandson</span>. 2 vols. 30s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">FRENCH REVOLUTIONARY GENERALS. Large crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Grimble (A.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">SHOOTING AND SALMON FISHING: HINTS AND RECOLLECTIONS. With +Illustrations. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 16s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Gundry (R. S.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">CHINA AND HER NEIGHBOURS. France in Indo-China, Russia and China, India +and Thibet, etc. With Maps. Demy 8vo, 9s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hall (Sidney).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A TRAVELLING ATLAS OF THE ENGLISH COUNTIES. Fifty Maps, coloured. Roan +tuck, 10s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Harris (Frank).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELDER CONKLIN, AND OTHER STORIES. Crown 8vo.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hartington (Edward).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE NEW ACADEME: An Educational Romance, Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hatton (Richard G.).</b> <i>Durham College of Science, Newcastle-on-Tyne.</i></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELEMENTARY DESIGN: being a Theoretical and Practical Introduction in the +Art of Decoration. With 110 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hildebrand (Hans).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">INDUSTRIAL ARTS OF SCANDINAVIA IN THE PAGAN TIMES. With numerous +Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Holmes (George C. V.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">NAVAL ARCHITECTURE AND SHIP BUILDING. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + +<p class="adtitle">MARINE ENGINES AND BOILERS. With 69 Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Houssaye (Arsène).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">BEHIND THE SCENES OF THE COMÉDIE FRANCAISE, AND OTHER RECOLLECTIONS. +Translated from the French. Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hovelacque (Abel).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE SCIENCE OF LANGUAGE: LINGUISTICS, PHILOLOGY, AND ETYMOLOGY. With +Maps. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hozier (H. M).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">TURENNE. With Portrait and Two Maps. Large crown 8vo, 4s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hudson (W. H.), C.M.Z.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">BIRDS IN A VILLAGE. Square crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">IDLE DAYS IN PATAGONIA. With numerous Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J. Smit</span> and <span class="smcap">A. +Hartley</span>. Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE NATURALIST IN LA PLATA. With numerous Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J. Smit</span>. +Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 16s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hueffer (F.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HALF A CENTURY OF MUSIC IN ENGLAND. 1837-1887. Demy 8vo, 8s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hughes (W. R.), F.L.S.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A WEEK'S TRAMP IN DICKENSLAND. With upwards of 100 Illustrations by +<span class="smcap">F. G. Kitton</span>, <span class="smcap">Herbert Railton</span>, and others. Second and Cheaper Edition. +Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Hutchinson (Rev. H. N.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">CREATURES OF OTHER DAYS. With Illustrations by J. Smit and others. [<i>In +the Press.</i></p> + +<p class="adtitle">EXTINCT MONSTERS. A popular Account of some of the larger forms of +Ancient Animal Life. With numerous Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J. Smit</span> and others, +and a Preface by <span class="smcap">Dr. Henry Woodward</span>, F.R.S. Third Thousand, revised and +enlarged. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">INDUSTRIAL ARTS: Historical Sketches. With numerous Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Jackson (Frank G.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">DECORATIVE DESIGN. An Elementary Text Book of Principles and Practice. +With numerous Illustrations. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>James (Henry A.), M.A.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HANDBOOK TO PERSPECTIVE. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">PERSPECTIVE CHARTS, for use in Class Teaching. 2s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Jokai (Maurus).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">PRETTY MICHAL. Translated by <span class="smcap">R. Nisbet Bain</span>. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Jones.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HANDBOOK OF THE JONES COLLECTION IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. With +Portrait and Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo. 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Jopling (Louise).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HINTS TO AMATEURS. A Handbook on Art With Diagrams. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Junker (Dr. Wm.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">TRAVELS IN AFRICA. Translated from the German by Professor <span class="smcap">A. H. Keane</span>, +F.R.G.S. 1875-1886. Profusely Illustrated. 3 vols. Demy 8vo. 21s. each.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Kelly (James Fitzmaurice).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE LIFE OF MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA: A Biographical, Literary, and +Historical Study, with a Tentative Bibliography from 1585 to 1892, and +an Annotated Appendix on the "Canto de Calíope." Demy 8vo, 16s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Kempt (Robert).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">CONVIVIAL CALEDONIA: Inns and Taverns of Scotland, and some Famous +People who have frequented them. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Kennard (H. Martyn).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">PHILISTINES AND ISRAELITES: A New Light on the World's History. Demy +4to, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lacordaire (Père).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">JESUS CHRIST; GOD; and GOD AND MAN. Conferences delivered at Notre Dame, +in Paris. Seventh Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Laing (S.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HUMAN ORIGINS: EVIDENCE FROM HISTORY AND SCIENCE. With Illustrations. +Twelfth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE AND ESSAYS. Thirteenth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. +6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">MODERN SCIENCE AND MODERN THOUGHT. Nineteenth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. +6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A MODERN ZOROASTRIAN. Eighth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lanin (E. B.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">RUSSIAN CHARACTERISTICS. Reprinted, with Revisions, from <i>The +Fortnightly Review</i>. Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Le Conte (Joseph).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">EVOLUTION: ITS NATURE, ITS EVIDENCES, AND ITS RELATIONS TO RELIGIOUS +THOUGHT. A New and Revised Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lefevre (André).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">PHILOSOPHY, Historical and Critical Translated, with an Introduction, by +<span class="smcap">A. H. Keane</span>, B.A. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Leroy-Beaulieu (Anatole)</b>, <i>Member of the Institute of France</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">PAPACY, SOCIALISM, AND DEMOCRACY. Translated by <span class="smcap">B. L. O'Donnell</span>. Crown. +8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Leslie (R. C).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE SEA BOAT: HOW TO BUILD, RIG, AND SAIL HER. With Illustrations. Crown +8vo, 4s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">LIFE ABOARD A BRITISH PRIVATEER IN THE TIME OF QUEEN ANNE. Being the +Journals of Captain Woodes Rogers, Master Mariner. New and cheaper +Edition. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A SEA-PAINTER'S LOG. With 12 Full-page Illustrations by the Author. +Large crown 8vo, 12s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Letourneau (Dr. Charles).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">SOCIOLOGY. Based upon Ethnology. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">BIOLOGY. With 83 Illustrations. A New Edition. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lilly (W. S.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE CLAIMS OF CHRISTIANITY. Demy 8vo.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ON SHIBBOLETHS. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ON RIGHT AND WRONG. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A CENTURY OF REVOLUTION. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">CHAPTERS ON EUROPEAN HISTORY. 2 vols. Demy 8vo, 21s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ANCIENT RELIGION AND MODERN THOUGHT. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lineham (W. J.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">TEXT BOOK OF MECHANICAL ENGINEERING. With numerous Illustrations. Crown +8vo. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lineham (Mrs. Ray S.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE STREET OF HUMAN HABITATIONS. Fully Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Little (The Rev. Canon Knox).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE WAIF FROM THE WAVES: a Story of Three Lives, touching this World and +another. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE CHILD OF STAFFERTON. Twelfth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in +cloth, 1s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE BROKEN VOW. Seventeenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in cloth, +1s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Lloyd (W. W.)</b>, <i>late 24th Regiment</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ON ACTIVE SERVICE. Printed in Colours. Oblong 4to, 5s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">SKETCHES OF INDIAN LIFE. Printed in Colours. 4to, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>McDermott (P. L.)</b>, <i>Assistant Secretary</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">BRITISH EAST AFRICA: A History of the Formation and Work of the Imperial +British East Africa Company. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Macdonald (F. A.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">OUR OCEAN RAILWAYS; or, the Rise, Progress, and Development of Ocean +Steam Navigation, etc, etc. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Malleson (Col. G. B.), C.S.I.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE LIFE OF WARREN HASTINGS. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + +<p class="adtitle">PRINCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">LOUDON. A Sketch of the Military Life of Gideon Ernest, Freiherr von +Loudon. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 4s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Mallock (W. H.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HUMAN DOCUMENT. One Volume. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Marceau (Sergent).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">REMINISCENCES OF A REGICIDE. Edited from the Original MSS. of <span class="smcap">Sergent +Marceau</span>, Member of the Convention, and Administrator of Police in the +French Revolution of 1789. By <span class="smcap">M. C. M. Simpson</span>. With Illustrations and +Portraits. Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Maskell (Alfred).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">RUSSIAN ART AND ART OBJECTS IN RUSSIA. A Handbook to the Reproduction of +Goldsmith's Work and Other Art Treasures. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 4s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Maskell (William).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">IVORIES: ANCIENT AND MEDIÆVAL. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">HANDBOOK TO THE DYCE AND FORSTER COLLECTIONS. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Maspéro (G.)</b>, <i>late Director of Archæology in Egypt</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">LIFE IN ANCIENT EGYPT AND ASSYRIA. Translated by A. P. Morton. With 188 +Illustrations. Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Meredith (George).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">(<i>For List of Works see page 16.</i>)</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Mills (John)</b>, <i>formerly Assistant to the Solar Physics Committee</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ADVANCED PHYSIOGRAPHY (PHYSIOGRAPHIC ASTRONOMY). Designed to meet the +Requirements of Students preparing for the Elementary and Advanced +Stages of Physiography in the Science and Art Department Examinations, +and as an Introduction to Physical Astronomy. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELEMENTARY PHYSIOGRAPHIC ASTRONOMY. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ALTERNATIVE ELEMENTARY PHYSICS. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Mills (John) and North (Barker).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS (INTRODUCTORY LESSONS ON). With numerous Woodcuts. +Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">HANDBOOK OF QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Mitre (General Don Bartolomé)</b>, <i>first Constitutional President of the +Argentine Republic</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE EMANCIPATION OF SOUTH AMERICA. Being a Condensed Translation, by +<span class="smcap">William Pilling</span>, of "The History of San Martin." With Maps. Demy 8vo, +12s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Molesworth (W. Nassau).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE YEAR 1830 TO THE RESIGNATION OF THE +GLADSTONE MINISTRY, 1874. Twelfth Thousand. 3 vols. Crown 8vo, 18s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ABRIDGED EDITION. Large crown, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>N'Zau (Bula).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">CONGO FREE STATE AND ITS BIG GAME SHOOTING, TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES. +Illustrated from the Author's sketches. Demy 8vo. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Nesbitt (Alexander).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">GLASS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>O'Byrne (Robert), F.R.G.S.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE VICTORIES OF THE BRITISH ARMY IN THE PENINSULA AND THE SOUTH OF +FRANCE from 1808 to 1814. An Epitome of Napier's History of the +Peninsular War, and Gurwood's Collection of the Duke of Wellington's +Despatches. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Oliver (Professor D.), LL.D., F.L.S., F.R.S.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL NATURAL ORDERS OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM, +prepared for the Science and Art Department of Council of Education. +With 109 Coloured Plates by <span class="smcap">W. H. Fitch</span>, F.L.S. New Edition. Royal 8vo, +16s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Oliver (E. E.)</b>, <i>Under-Secretary to the Public Works Department, +Punjaub</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ACROSS THE BORDER; or, PATHAN AND BILOCH. With numerous Illustrations by +<span class="smcap">J. L. Kipling</span>, C.I.E. Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Papus.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE TAROT OF the BOHEMIANS. The most ancient book in the world. For the +exclusive use of the Initiates. An Absolute Key to Occult Science. With +numerous Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Paske (Surgeon-General C. T.) and Aflalo (F. G.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE SEA AND THE ROD. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Paterson (Arthur).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A PARTNER FROM WEST. A Novel. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Payton (E. W.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ROUND ABOUT NEW ZEALAND. Being Notes from a Journal of Three Years' +Wandering in the Antipodes. With Twenty Original Illustrations by the +Author. Large crown 8vo, 12s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Pierce (Gilbert).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE DICKENS DICTIONARY. A Key to the Characters and Principal Incidents +in the Tales of Charles Dickens. New Edition, uniform with the "Crown" +Edition of Dickens's Works. Large crown, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Perrot (Georges) and Chipiez (Chas.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN GREECE. With about 500 Illustrations, 2 +vols. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PERSIA. With 254 Illustrations and 12 Steel +and Coloured Plates. Imperial 8vo, 21s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHRYGIA—LYDIA, CARIA, and LYCIA. With 280 +Illustrations. Imperial 8vo, 15s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN SARDINIA, JUDÆA, SYRIA, AND ASIA MINOR. With +395 Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 36s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHŒNICIA AND ITS DEPENDENCIES. With 654 +Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 42s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ART IN CHALDÆA AND ASSYRIA. With 452 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">A HISTORY OF ART IN ANCIENT EGYPT. With 600 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Pollen (J. H.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">GOLD AND SILVER SMITH'S WORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ANCIENT AND MODERN FURNITURE AND WOODWORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Pollok (Colonel)</b>, <i>Author of "Sport in British Burma</i>."</p> + +<p class="adtitle">INCIDENTS OF FOREIGN SPORT AND TRAVEL. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo. +[<i>In the Press.</i></p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Poole (Stanley Lane), B.A., M.R.A.S.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE ART OF THE SARACENS IN EGYPT. Published for the Committee of Council +on Education. With 108 Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 4s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Poynter (E. J.), R.A.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">TEN LECTURES ON ART. Third Edition. Large crown 8vo, 9s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Pratt (Robert).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">SCIOGRAPHY, OR PARALLEL AND RADIAL PROJECTION OF SHADOWS. Being a Course +of Exercises for the use of Students in Architectural and Engineering +Drawing, and for Candidates preparing for the Examinations in this +subject and in Third Grade Perspective. Oblong quarto, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Pushkin (A. S.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">QUEEN OF SPADES, THE, and OTHER STORIES. With a Biography. Translated +from the Russian by <span class="smcap">Mrs. Sutherland Edwards</span>. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Rae (W. Fraser).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">AUSTRIAN HEALTH RESORTS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. A New and Enlarged Edition. +Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>RAPHAEL</b>; his Life, Works, and Times. By <span class="smcap">Eugene Muntz</span>. Illustrated with +about 200 Engravings. A New Edition, revised from the Second French +Edition. By <span class="smcap">W. ARMSTRONG</span>, B.A. Imperial 8vo, 25s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Redgrave (Gilbert).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">OUTLINES OF HISTORIC ORNAMENT. Translated from the German. Edited by +<span class="smcap">Gilbert Redgrave</span>. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Redgrave (Richard), R.A.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">MANUAL OF DESIGN. With Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELEMENTARY MANUAL OF COLOUR, with a Catechism on Colour. 24mo, cloth, +9d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Redgrave (Samuel).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF THE HISTORICAL COLLECTION OF WATER-COLOUR +PAINTINGS IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. With numerous +Chromo-lithographs and other Illustrations. Royal 8vo, £1 1s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Renan (Ernest).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE FUTURE OF SCIENCE: Ideas of 1848. Demy 8vo, 18s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL.<br /> +<span class="smcap">First Division.</span> Till the time of King David. Demy 8vo, 14s.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Second Division.</span> From the Reign of David up to the Capture of Samaria. +Demy 8vo, 14s.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Third Division.</span> From the time of Hezekiah till the Return from Babylon. +Demy 8vo, 14s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">RECOLLECTIONS OF MY YOUTH. Translated from the French, and revised by +<span class="smcap">Madame Renan</span>. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Riaño (Juan F.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE INDUSTRIAL ARTS IN SPAIN. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +4s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Roberts (Morley).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">IN LOW RELIEF: A Bohemian Transcript. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d.; in boards, 2s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Robson (George).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELEMENTARY BUILDING CONSTRUCTION. Illustrated by a Design for an +Entrance Lodge and Gate. 15 Plates. Oblong folio, sewed, 8s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Rock (The Very Rev. Canon), D.D.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">TEXTILE FABRICS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Roosevelt (Blanche).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELIZABETH OF ROUMANIA. A Study. With Two Tales from the German of Carmen +Sylva, Her Majesty Queen of Roumania. With Two Portraits and +Illustration. Demy 8vo, 12s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Ross (Mrs. Janet).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">EARLY DAYS RECALLED. With Illustrations and Portrait. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Russan (Ashmore) and Boyle (Fredk.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE ORCHID SEEKERS: a Story of Adventure in Borneo. Illustrated by +<span class="smcap">Alfred Hartley</span>. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Russell (W. Clark)</b>, <i>and other Writers</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">MISS PARSON'S ADVENTURE, and OTHER STORIES by <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>, <span class="smcap">Julian +Hawthorne</span>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. L. B. Walford</span>, <span class="smcap">J. M. Barrie</span>, <span class="smcap">F. C. Philips</span>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. +Alexander</span>, and <span class="smcap">William Westall</span>. With 16 Illustrations. 1 vol. Crown 8vo, +5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Ryan (Charles)</b>, <i>Late Head Master of the Ventnor School of Art</i>.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">EGYPTIAN ART. An Elementary Handbook for the use of Students. With 56 +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Schauermann (F. L.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">WOOD-CARVING IN PRACTICE AND THEORY, AS APPLIED TO HOME ARTS. Containing +124 Illustrations. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Seeman (O.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE MYTHOLOGY OF GREECE AND ROME, with Special Reference to its Use in +Art. From the German. Edited by <span class="smcap">G. H. Bianchi</span>. 64 Illustrations. New +Edition. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Seton Karr (H. W.), F.R.G.S., etc.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">BEAR HUNTING IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS; or, Alaska and British Columbia +Revisited. Illustrated. Large crown, 4s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">TEN YEARS' TRAVEL AND SPORT IN FOREIGN LANDS; or, Travels in the +Eighties. Second Edition, with additions and Portrait of Author. Large +crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Shirreff (Emily).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">A SHORT SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF FRIEDRICH FRÖBEL; a New Edition, including +Fröbel's Letters from Dresden and Leipzig to his Wife, now first +Translated into English. Crown 8vo, 2s.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">HOME EDUCATION IN RELATION TO THE KINDERGARTEN. Two Lectures. Crown 8vo, +1s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Simkin (R.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">LIFE IN THE ARMY: Every-day Incidents in Camp, Field, and Quarters. +Printed in Colours. Oblong 4to, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Simmonds (T. L.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ANIMAL PRODUCTS: their Preparation, Commercial Uses and Value. With +numerous Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Sinnett (A. P.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ESOTERIC BUDDHISM. Annotated and enlarged by the Author. Seventh +Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">KARMA. A Novel. New Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Smith (Major R. Murdock), R.E.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">PERSIAN ART. With Map and Woodcuts. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 2s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Spencer (Herbert).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">APHORISMS FROM THE WRITINGS OF HERBERT SPENCER. Selected by <span class="smcap">Julia +Raymond Gingell</span>. With Portrait. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Statham (H. H.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">FORM AND DESIGN IN MUSIC: A brief Outline of the Æsthetic Conditions of +the Art; addressed to General Readers. With Musical Examples. Demy 8vo, +2s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">MY THOUGHTS ON MUSIC AND MUSICIANS. Illustrated with Frontispiece and +Musical Examples. Demy 8vo, 18s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Stoddard (C. A.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">SPANISH CITIES: with Glimpses of Gibraltar and Tangiers. With 18 +Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">ACROSS RUSSIA FROM THE BALTIC TO THE DANUBE. With numerous +Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Stokes (Margaret).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">EARLY CHRISTIAN ART IN IRELAND. With 106 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo, 4s.</p> + +<p class="adauthor"><b>STORIES FROM "BLACK AND WHITE."</b> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Hardy</span>, <span class="smcap">J. M. Barrie</span>, <span class="smcap">W. Clark +Russell</span>, <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>, <span class="smcap">James Payn</span>, <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lynn Linton</span>, and +<span class="smcap">Mrs. Oliphant</span>. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Sutcliffe (John).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE SCULPTOR AND ART STUDENT'S GUIDE to the Proportions of the Human +Form, with Measurements in feet and inches of full-grown Figures of both +Sexes, and of various Ages. By <span class="smcap">Dr. G. Zchadow</span>. Plates reproduced by <span class="smcap">J. +Sutcliffe</span>. Oblong folio, 31s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>SUVOROFF, LIFE OF.</b> By <span class="smcap">Lieut.-Col. Spalding</span>. Crown 8vo, 6s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Symonds (John Addington).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ESSAYS, SPECULATIVE AND SUGGESTIVE. New Edition in one volume. Demy 8vo, +9s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Tanner (Professor), F.C.S.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">HOLT CASTLE; or, Threefold Interest in Land. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d.</p> + +<p class="adtitle">JACK'S EDUCATION; OR, HOW HE LEARNT FARMING. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, +3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Taylor (Edward R.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ELEMENTARY ART TEACHING: An Educational and Technical Guide for Teachers +and Learners, including Infant School-work; The Work of the Standards; +Freehand; Geometry; Model Drawing; Nature Drawing; Colours; Light and +Shade; Modelling and Design. With over 600 Diagrams and Illustrations. +Large crown 8vo, 10s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Thomson (D. C.).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE BARBIZON SCHOOL OF PAINTERS: Corot, Rousseau, Diaz, Millet, and +Daubigny. With 130 Illustrations, including 36 Full-page Plates, of +which 18 are Etchings. 4to, cloth, 42s.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Topinard (Dr. Paul).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">ANTHROPOLOGY. With a Preface by <span class="smcap">Professor Paul Broca</span>. With 49 +Illustrations. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d.</p> + + +<p class="adauthor"><b>Traherne (Major).</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle">THE HABITS OF THE SALMON. 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Browne.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Oliver Twist</b> and <b>A Tale of Two Cities</b>. With Twenty-four Illustrations by +Cruikshank, and Sixteen by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Bleak House.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Little Dorrit.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Our Mutual Friend.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>American Notes; Pictures from Italy</b>; and <b>A Child's History of England</b>. +With Sixteen Illustrations by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Christmas Books</b> and <b>Hard Times</b>. With Sixty-seven Illustrations by +Landseer, Maclise, Stanfield, Leech, Doyle, F., Walker, etc.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Christmas Stories and Other Stories</b>, including <b>Humphrey's Clock</b>. With +Illustrations by Dalziel, Charles Green, Mahoney, Phiz, Cattermole, etc.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Great Expectations; Uncommercial Traveller.</b> With Sixteen Illustrations +by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Edwin Drood</b> and <b>Reprinted Pieces</b>. With Sixteen Illustrations by Luke +Fildes and F. Walker.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>Uniform with above in size and binding.</i></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Life of Charles Dickens.</b> By <span class="smcap">John Forster</span>. With Portraits and +Illustrations. Added at the request of numerous subscribers.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Dickens Dictionary</b>: a Key to the Characters and Principal Incidents +in the Tales of Charles Dickens.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices</b>; <b>No Thoroughfare</b>; <b>The Perils of +Certain English Prisoners</b>. By <span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span> and <span class="smcap">Wilkie Collins</span>. With +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + + +<p class="center"><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub> These Stories are now reprinted in complete form for the first +time.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p class="center bigtext b">CHARLES DICKENS'S WORKS.</p> + +<p class="center">HALF-CROWN EDITION.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>This Edition contains the whole of Dickens's Works, with reproductions +of all the original Illustrations.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Printed from the Edition that was carefully corrected by the Author in +1867 and 1868. Crown 8vo.</p> + +<p class="center">PRICE TWO SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE EACH VOLUME.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Pickwick Papers.</b> With Forty-three Illustrations by Seymour and Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Barnaby Rudge</b>: a Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty. With Seventy-six +Illustrations by-George Cattermole and H. K. Browne.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Oliver Twist.</b> With Twenty-four Illustrations by George Cruikshank.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Old Curiosity Shop.</b> With Seventy-five Illustrations by George +Cattermole and H. K. Browne.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>David Copperfield.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Nicholas Nickleby.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Martin Chuzzlewit.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Dombey and Son.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Sketches by Boz.</b> With Forty Illustrations by George Cruikshank.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Christmas Books.</b> With Sixty-three Illustrations by Landseer, Doyle, +Maclise, Leech, etc.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Bleak House.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Little Dorrit.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Christmas Stories</b>, from "Household Words." With Fourteen Illustrations +by Dalziel, Green, Mahoney, etc.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>American Notes</b> and <b>Reprinted Pieces</b>. With Eight Illustrations by Marcus +Stone and F. Walker.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Hard Times</b> and <b>Pictures from Italy</b>. With Eight Illustrations by F. +Walker and Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>A Child's History of England.</b> With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Great Expectations.</b> With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Tale of Two Cities.</b> With Sixteen Illustrations by Phiz.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Uncommercial Traveller.</b> With Eight Illustrations by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Our Mutual Friend.</b> With Forty Illustrations by Marcus Stone.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Edwin Drood</b> and <b>Other Stories</b>. With Twelve Illustrations by Luke Fildes.</p> + + +<p class="center"><b>THE ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION.</b><br /> +Complete in 30 vols., with the Original Illustrations, demy 8vo, 10s. +each; or Sets, £15.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>LIBRARY EDITION.</b><br /> +Complete in 30 vols., with the Original Illustrations, post 8vo, 8s. +each; or Sets, £12.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>THE "CHARLES DICKENS" EDITION.</b><br /> +In crown 8vo, in 21 vols., cloth, with Illustrations, £3 16s.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>THE CABINET EDITION.</b><br /> +In 32 vols., small fcap. 8vo, marble paper sides, cloth backs, with +uncut edges, 1s. 6d. each. Each Volume contains 8 Illustrations +reproduced from the Originals.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p class="center bigtext b">THOMAS CARLYLE'S WORKS.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>THE ASHBURTON EDITION.</b><br /> +An entirely New Edition, handsomely printed, containing all the +Portraits and Illustrations; in 17 vols., demy 8vo, 8s. each.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>LIBRARY EDITION.</b><br /> +Handsomely printed in 34 vols., demy 8vo, cloth, £15 3s.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>PEOPLE'S EDITION.</b><br /> +37 vols., small crown 8vo, 37s.; separate vols., 1s. each.</p> + + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Sartor Resartus.</b> With Portrait of Thomas Carlyle.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>French Revolution</b>: a History. 3 vols.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Oliver Cromwell's Letters & Speeches.</b> 5 vols. 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Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. and 6s. each.</p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>One of Our Conquerors.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Diana of the Crossways.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Evan Harrington.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Adventures of Harry Richmond.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Sandra Belloni.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Vittoria.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Rhoda Fleming.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>Beauchamp's Career.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Egoist.</b></p> + +<p class="adtitle"><b>The Shaving of Shagpat</b>; and <b>Farina</b>.</p> + + +<p class="theend"><span class="smcap">F. M. EVANS AND CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, CRYSTAL PALACE, S.E.</span></p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected.</p> + +<p>In Part I, Chapter I, "that Jokäi alludes to" was changed to "that Jókai +alludes to".</p> + +<p>In Chapter II, "the hinds see to their cattle" was changed to "the hands +see to their cattle".</p> + +<p>In Chapter III, "write his letter in own way" was changed to "write his +letter in his own way".</p> + +<p>In Chapter VII, a quotation mark was added after "on some one else's +shoulders."</p> + +<p>In Chapter VIII, "Arzael laughs aloud" was changed to "Azrael laughs +aloud".</p> + +<p>In Part II, Chapter II, "Behind the iconastastis" was changed to "Behind +the iconastasis".</p> + +<p>In Chapter III, "horses with flesh-cloured manes" was changed to "horses +with flesh-coloured manes".</p> + +<p>In Chapter VII, "the security of the whole realm are at stake" was +changed to "the security of the whole realm is at stake".</p> + +<p>In Chapter IX, "called away to Sombyo" was changed to "called away to +Somlyo", and "her husband from Sombyo" was changed to "her husband from +Somlyo".</p> + +<p>In the advertisements, numerous minor punctuation and spelling errors +were corrected, "Freicherr von Loudon" was changed to "Freiherr von +Loudon", and "BELUCHISTAN" was changed to "BALUCHISTAN".</p> + +<p>There are numerous cases of inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation +in the original text. Except as noted above, these inconsistencies have +been retained.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's 'Midst the Wild Carpathians, by Mr Jkai + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + +***** This file should be named 37339-h.htm or 37339-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/3/3/37339/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'Midst the Wild Carpathians + +Author: Mor Jokai + +Translator: R. Nisbet Bain + +Release Date: September 7, 2011 [EBook #37339] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + +[Illustration: cover of 'Midst the Wild Carpathians by Dr. Jokai Mor] + + + + +'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS + +("AZ ERDELY ARANY KORA") + +BY MAURUS JOKAI + +TRANSLATED BY R. NISBET BAIN FROM THE FIRST HUNGARIAN EDITION + +Authorised Version + +LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, LD. +1894 +[All rights reserved] + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, +LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +Hungarians regard _Az Erdely arany kora_ as, on the whole, the best of +Jokai's great historical romances, and, to judge from the numerous +existing versions of it, foreigners are of the same opinion as +Hungarians. Few of Jokai's other tales have been translated so often, +and the book is as great a favourite in Poland as it is in Germany. And +certainly it fully deserves its great reputation, for it displays to the +best advantage the author's three characteristic qualities--his powers +of description, especially of nature, his dramatic intensity, and his +peculiar humour. + +The scene of the story is laid among the virgin forests and inaccessible +mountains of seventeenth-century Transylvania, where a proud and valiant +feudal nobility still maintained a precarious independence long after +the parent state of Hungary had become a Turkish province. We are +transported into a semi-heroic, semi-barbarous borderland between the +Past and the Present, where Mediaevalism has found a last retreat, and +the civilizations of the East and West contend or coalesce. Bizarre, +gorgeous, and picturesque forms flit before us--rude feudal magnates and +refined Machiavellian intriguers; superb Turkish pashas and ferocious +Moorish bandits; noble, high-minded ladies and tigrish odalisks; +saturnine Hungarian heydukes, superstitious Wallachian peasants, savage +Szeklers, and scarcely human Tartars. The plot too is in keeping with +the vivid colouring and magnificent scenery of the story. The whole +history of Transylvania, indeed, reads like a chapter from the _Arabian +Nights_, but there are no more dramatic episodes in that history than +those on which this novel is based--the sudden elevation of a country +squire (Michael Apafi) to the throne of Transylvania against his will by +order of the Padishah, and the dark conspiracy whereby Denis Banfi, the +last of the great Transylvanian magnates, was so foully done to death. + +In none of Jokai's other novels, moreover, is the individuality of the +characters so distinct and consistent. The gluttonous Kemeny, who +sacrificed a kingdom for a dinner; the well-meaning, easy-going Apafi, +who would have made a model squire, but was irretrievably ruined by a +princely diadem; his consort, the wise and generous Anna, always at hand +to stop her husband from committing follies, or to save him from their +consequences; the crafty Teleki, the Richelieu of Transylvania, with +wide views and lofty aims, but sticking at nothing to compass his ends; +his rival Banfi, rough, masterful, recklessly selfish, yet a patriot at +heart, with a vein of true nobility running through his coarser nature; +his tender and sensitive wife, clinging desperately to a brutal husband, +who learnt her worth too late; the time-serving Csaky, as mean a rascal +as ever truckled to the great or trampled on the fallen; Ali Pasha and +Corsar Beg, excellent types of the official and the unofficial Turkish +freebooter respectively; Kucsuk Pasha, the chivalrous Mussulman with a +conscience above his creed; the renegade spy Zuelfikar, groping in +slippery places after illicit gains, and always falling on his feet with +cat-like agility; and, last of all, that marvellous creation, Azrael, +the demoniacal Turkish odalisk, blasting all who fall within the +influence of her irresistible glamour, a Circe as sinuously beautiful +and as utterly soulless as her own pet panther--all these personages of +a, happily, by-gone age are depicted as vividly as if the author had +known each one of them personally. + +Finally, the book contains some of Jokai's happiest descriptions, and in +this department it is generally admitted that the master, at his best, +is unsurpassable. The description of the burning coal-mine in _Fekete +Gyemantok_, of the Neva floods in _A szabadsag a ho alatt_, of the +plague in _Szomoru napok_, or of the Danube in all its varying moods in +_Az arany ember_, stand alone in modern fiction; yet can any of these +vivid tableaux compare with the wonderful account of Corsar Beg's aerial +fairy palace, poised on the top of the savage Carpathians, or with the +glowing picture of the gorgeous harem of Azrael, or with the fantastic +scenery of the Devil's Garden, with its ice-built corridors, snow +bridges, boiling streams, fathomless lakes, and rushing avalanches? + +R. N. B. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I. + + BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH. + + CHAP. PAGE + I. A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666 1 + II. THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA 18 + III. A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE 27 + IV. A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA 37 + V. BODOLA 45 + VI. THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZOeLLOeS 57 + VII. THE PRINCESS 70 + VIII. THE PERI 85 + IX. THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER 105 + + + BOOK II. + + THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. + + I. THE PATROL 125 + II. SANGE MOARTE 135 + III. AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 155 + IV. THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE 173 + V. THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL 189 + VI. THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVAR 197 + VII. THE JUS LIGATUM 210 + VIII. DEATH FOR A KISS 218 + IX. CONSORT AND CONCUBINE 228 + X. THE SENTENCE 257 + + + + +'MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS. + + + + +BOOK I. + +BY COMMAND OF THE PADISHAH. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +A HUNT IN THE YEAR 1666. + + +Before us lies the valley of the Drave, one of those endless +wildernesses where even the wild beast loses its way. Forests +everywhere, maples and aspens a thousand years old, with their roots +under water; magnificent morasses the surface of which is covered, not +with reeds and water-lilies, but with gigantic trees, from the dependent +branches of which the vivifying waters force fresh roots. Here the swan +builds her nest; here too dwell the royal heron, the blind crow, the +golden plover, and other man-shunning animals which are rarely if ever +seen in more habitable regions. + +Here and there on little mounds, left bare during the long summer +drought by the receding waters, sprout strange and gorgeous flowers, +such perhaps as the earth has not brought forth since the Flood +overwhelmed her. In this slimy soil every blade of grass shoots up like +gigantic broom; the funnel-shaped convolvuluses and the evergreen +ground-ivy put forth tendrils as stout and as strong as vine branches, +which, stretching from tree to tree, twine round their stems and hang +flowery garlands about the dark, sombre maples, just as if some +hamadryad had crowned the grove dedicated to her. + +But it is only when evening descends that this realm of waters begins to +show signs of life. Whole swarms of water-fowl then mount into the air, +whose rueful, monotonous croaking is only broken by the melancholy +piping of the bittern and the whistle of the green turtle. The swan, +too, raises her voice and sings that melodious lay which now, they tell +us, is only to be heard in fairy-land,--for here man has never yet trod, +the place is still God's. + +Now and again, indeed, sportsmen of the bolder sort presume to penetrate +far into this pathless labyrinth of bush and brake; but they are forced +to wind their way among the trees in canoes which may at any moment be +upset by the twisted tangle of roots stretching far and wide beneath the +water, and it is just in these very places that the swamp is many +fathoms deep; for although the dark green lake-grass and the yellow +marsh-flowers, with the little black-and-red efts and newts darting +about among them, seem close enough to be reached by an outstretched +hand, they are nevertheless all under water deep enough to go over the +head of the tallest man. + +In other places it is the dense thicket which bars the canoe's way. +Fallen trees, the spoil of many centuries, but untouched by the hand of +man, lie rotting there in gigantic heaps. The submerged trunks have been +turned to stone by the water, and the roots of the lake-grass, the +filaments of the flax-plant, and the tendrils of the clematis have grown +together over them, forming a strong, tough barrier just above the water +which rocks and sways without giving way beneath one's feet. The knotty +clout-like film of the lake, stretching far and wide, seems, to the +careless eye, a continuation of this barrier, but the treacherous +surface no longer bears--one step further, and Death is there. This +unknown, unexplored region has however but few visitors. + +Southwards, the wilderness is bounded by the river Drave. The trees +which line its steep banks dip over into its waves. Not unfrequently the +fierce stream sweeps them into its bed and away, to the great peril of +all who sail or row upon its waters. + +Northwards, the forest extends as far as Csakatorny, and where the +morass ends oaks and beeches of all sorts flourish. In no other part of +Hungary will you meet with trees so erect and so lofty. The wide waste +abounds with all sorts of game. The wild boars, which wallow in the +swampy ground there, are the largest and fiercest of their kind. The red +deer too is no stranger there, and huge, powerful, and courageous you +will find him; nay, at that time, even gigantic elks showed themselves +occasionally, and made nocturnal incursions into the neighbouring +millet-fields of Totovecz; but at the first attempt to lay hands upon +them, they would throw themselves into the innermost swamps, whither it +was impossible to follow them.... + +On one of the brightest days of the year in which our story begins, a +numerous hunting-party was bustling about an old-fashioned hunting-box +which then stood on the borders of the forest. + +The first rays of the sun had scarcely pierced through the thick +foliage, when the grooms and kennel-keepers led out the hunters by their +bridles and the hounds in leashes, which sprang yelping up to the +shoulders of their keepers in joyful anticipation of the coming sport. +The huge store-wagons, each drawn by from six to ten oxen, have already +gone on before to fixed rallying-places, whither all the quarry is to be +carried. The villagers for miles round have been enlisted as beaters, +and stand together in picturesque groups armed with axes, pitch-forks, +and occasional muskets. A few smaller groups have been posted at regular +intervals along the wood, with canoes made from the trunks of trees. +Their duty is to scare the game back from the swamp, should it turn +thither for refuge. Every man, every beast shows signs of that +precipitancy, that ardour, that restlessness by which the true huntsman +is always distinguishable; only a few of the older hands find time to +sit by the fire and roast slices of bacon with perfect equanimity. + +At last comes the signal for departure, the blast of a horn from the +porch of the hunting-box; the retinue spring shouting upon their +snorting horses; the unruly, barking pack drag the kennel-men hither and +thither; the huntsmen wind up their heavy shooting muskets, and every +one stands in eager expectation of their lord and his noble guests. + +They have not long to wait. A cavalcade, with a few attendant pages, +descends the hill. Foremost rides a tall, muscular man--the lord of the +manor--the rest, as if involuntarily, linger some little way behind him. +His broad shoulders and superbly-arched chest indicate herculean +strength; his sun-burnt features are wonderfully well preserved, not a +wrinkle is to be seen on them; his short clipped beard and his shaggy +moustache, which is twisted sharply upwards, give his face a martial +expression, and his very pronounced aquiline nose and coal-black, bushy +eyebrows lend him a haughty, dictatorial air; while the dreamy cut of +his lips, his mild, oval, blue eyes and high, smooth forehead throw a +poetic shimmer over his peculiarly chivalrous countenance. A round, +unembroidered hat, surmounted by an eagle's plume, covers his +closely-cropped hair; his upper garment is a simple green, shaggy +jacket, which he wears open, thus allowing you a glance at his +under-garment, a white buckskin dolman,[1] trimmed with silver braid. By +his side hangs a broad scimitar in an ivory sheath, and the +mother-of-pearl handle of a crooked Turkish dagger peeps forth from a +scarlet girdle richly set with precious stones. + + [Footnote 1: _Dolman._ An Hungarian pelisse. A more + magnificent kind, worn only on state occasions, is + called the _attila_.] + +The pair which ride immediately behind him consists of a young cavalier +and a young Amazon. The cavalier can scarcely have counted more than +two-and-twenty summers, the lady seems even younger. A better-assorted +couple you could find nowhere. + +The youth has smiling, gentle, pallid features; rich chestnut-brown +locks fall over his shoulders; a slight moustache just shades his upper +lip; an eternal smile, nonchalance, not to say levity, are mirrored in +his bright blue eyes; but for his brawny arms and his stalwart frame, +the iron muscles of which protrude at the slightest movement through his +tight-fitting dolman, you might take him for a child. His head is +covered by a kalpag[2] of marten skin with a heron's plume in it; his +dress is of heavy twisted silk stuff; down from his shoulders hangs a +splendid tiger's skin, the claws meeting together round his neck in a +gorgeous sapphire agraffe. He rides a pitch-black Turkish stallion, +whose shabrack, richly embroidered with golden butterflies, is plainly +the work of a gentle lady's hand. + + [Footnote 2: _Kalpag_ or _Calpak_. A tall, skin cap of + Tartar origin, part of the Hungarian national costume.] + +The Amazon, over whom the youth bends from time to time (doubtless to +whisper some sweet compliment in her ear), is his very antithesis, and +perhaps for that very reason tallies so well with him. + +Hers is an earnest, dauntless, energetic countenance; her eyes are +brighter than garnets; she loves to pout a little and arch her bushy but +delicate eyebrows, which lend a proud expression to her features, and +when she raises her flashing eyes and her coral-red lips expand into a +peculiar enthusiastic smile, a heroine stands before you whose head, +heart, and arm are as strong as any man's. Her jasper-black, braided +locks, which fall half-way down her shoulders, are surmounted by an +ermine kalpag, from the top of which waves a gorgeous plume of +bird-of-paradise feathers. A light, lilac robe, meet for an Amazon, +clings tightly to her slim waist, and sweeps down in ample, majestic +folds over the flanks of her rose-white Arab. This robe is unbuttoned in +front, so as to leave free her heaving bosom, which is covered right up +to the neck with lace frills. Her short sleeves, richly trimmed with +batiste, are fastened by intertwining gold cords. Over her left foot, +which rests upon the stirrup, the long robe is thrown carelessly back, +presenting us with a glimpse of her white satin, padded petticoat, and +one of her little feet in its red morocco shoe. Her snow-white arms are +half protected by silk embroidered buckskin gloves, which do not quite +conceal the velvety skin, and the play of the well-developed muscles. +Both form and face rather demand our homage than our love. A smile +rarely rests on those features; the glance of her large, dark, sea-deep +eyes rests from time to time upon the youth who is bending over her, and +then there beams from them such witchery, such tenderness--yet all the +while her face is without a smile. A loftier, nobler longing is then +visible on her face, a longing deeper than love, higher than the desire +of fame--perhaps it is that self-consciousness of great souls who +foresee that their names will be an eternal remembrance. + +Behind the loving pair, ride side by side two cavaliers who, to judge +from their dress, belong to the higher nobility. One of them is a man of +about thirty, with a long, glistening black beard; he sits upon a +full-blood Barbary charger, with a white star upon its forehead; the +other is a sallow man advanced in years, whose long, light moustache is +already touched with grey; an astrachan cap covers his high, bald, +wrinkled forehead; his beard is carefully clipped, and his dress almost +ostentatiously simple. No lace adorns his jacket, no fringe of any sort +sets off the caparison of his good steed; his neckerchief, which peeps +out of his dolman, might almost be considered shabby. + +This man does not appear to stand very high in the estimation of his +companion, and marks of annoyance at the neglect he suffers are plainly +visible on his shrewd, not to say crafty, features. The reader would do +well to study this man's face, for we shall often meet with him. Cold, +withered features, thin fair hair and beard speckled with grey; a +pointed, double chin; disdainful, contracted lips; keen and lively, +red-rimmed, sea-green eyes; projecting eyebrows; a lofty, bald, shining +forehead which, beneath the play of his emotions, becomes furrowed with +wrinkles in all directions. This face we must not forget; the +others--the herculean horseman, the laughing youth, the stately +Amazon--will only flit across our path and disappear; but he will +accompany us all through our story, pulling down and building up +wherever he appears, and holding in his hands the destinies of great men +and great nations. + +The bald-pate drew nearer to the cavalier trotting by his side, who was +balancing his spear in one hand as if to test it, and said to him in a +low tone, as if continuing a conversation already begun-- + +"So you will not interfere in the matter?" + +"Pray don't trouble me with politics now," replied the other, with a +gesture of angry impatience. "You cannot live a day without planning or +plotting; but pray spare me for to-day! I want to hunt now, and you know +how passionately I love the chase." + +With these words he gave his horse the spur, galloped forward, and +caught up the herculean horseman. + +The other bit his lips angrily at this roughish flout, but immediately +turned with a smile towards the youthful cavalier ambling in front of +him. + +"A splendid morning, my lord! Would that our horizon were only as serene +in every direction!" + +"It is indeed," returned the youth, without exactly knowing what he was +saying, whilst his heroine bent over him with a darkening face, and +whispered-- + +"I don't know how it is, but I am always suspicious of that man. He is +continually asking questions, but never answers any himself." + +At this moment the stately cavalier reached the hunting-party, returned +their boisterous greetings, and halted close to them. + +"David!" cried he to an old grey-bearded huntsman, who at once stepped +forth, cap in hand. + +"Put on your cap! Have the beaters taken their places?" + +"Every one is in his place, my lord! I have also sent canoes into the +swamp to scare back the game." + +"Bravo, David! you know your business. And now set off with the dogs and +the huntsmen, and strike into the path which we usually take. Our little +company will be sufficient for my purpose. We mean to cut our way +straight through the forest." + +A murmur of surprise and incredulity began to spread among the huntsmen. + +"Your pardon, gracious sir!" returned the old huntsman, who now took off +his cap a second time, "but I know that way, and it is no good way for a +god-fearing man. The impenetrable thicket, the bottomless waters, the +sticky slime present a thousand dangers, and then there is the wide +Devil's-dyke which goes right across the forest: no horse or horseman +has ever leaped that dyke." + +"We at any rate, my worthy old fellow, will go for it; we have done +worse bits than that ere now. He who follows me will not come to grief; +don't you know that I am Fortune's favourite?" + +The old huntsman donned his plumed cap, and set out on his way with the +others. + +But now the bald-pate rode up to the hero's side. + +"My lord!" remarked he calmly, but not without a touch of sarcasm, "I +hold it a great blunder for a man to jeopardize his life for nothing, +especially when he may turn it to good account. I know indeed that say +and do are one with your lordship; but pray be so good as to cast a +glance around, and you will perceive that we are not all men here; one +of that sex is among us whom it were cruelty to expose to certain peril +for the mere love of adventure." + +During this speech, the hero gazed fixedly, not at the speaker but at +the Amazon, and the fiery pride on his cheeks flamed up still higher +when he saw how contemptuously the stately girl measured her unsolicited +advocate from head to foot, and with what haughty self-confidence she +chose a dart, adorned with ostrich feathers, from a bundle carried by a +page, and then like a defiant matador planted the shaft firmly upon her +saddle-bow. + +"Look at her, now!" cried the hero. "Is that the girl you are so fearful +about? I tell you, sir, she is my niece!" + +The hero's exalted words rang far and wide through the forest like a +peal of bells. There was, at that time, no voice in Hungary like his; so +thunderous, so deep, and yet so melodious and penetrating. + +The Amazon permitted the cavalier who had called her his niece to +embrace her slim waist; she even allowed him to kiss her rosy red +cheeks: in those days an Hungarian girl used to blush even when the kiss +came from a kinsman's lips. + +"Not in vain does my blood flow in her veins! Ha, ha! For valour I'll +match her with the best of men. Have no fear for her! The time is coming +when she will face greater perils than any of to-day, and still hold her +own."[3] + + [Footnote 3: The Amazon was Helen Zrinyi. She married + first the young cavalier with whom we now meet her, + Francis Rakoczy, and subsequently the famous Emerich + Toekoely, whose acquaintance we shall make presently. Her + spirited defence of the fortress of Mohacz, 1689, + against the Emperor is well known.] + +After these prophetic words, the rider pressed his spurs into his +horse's sides; the wounded beast plunged and reared, but the pressure of +a knee as hard as steel quickly brought it to reason. + +"Follow me!" cried he, and the picturesque little group dashed after him +into the depths of the forest. + +Let us anticipate them. Let us go whither the stag rests at noonday in +the shady groves, whither the heron bathes and the turtle basks in the +sun. + +What habitations are these which rise up before us, built upon piles, in +groups of five and six, between the waters and the wilderness, little +huts carved out of the stumps of trees with round, clay-plastered, +red-thatched roofs? Who has built that dam there, so that the water may +never fall too far below the thresholds of those tiny houses? Here dwell +the diligent beavers whom Nature herself has taught the art of building. +This is their colony. 'Tis they who have gnawed through the thick trees +with their teeth; they who have brought those logs hither; they who have +thrown up a bank to make a dam, and watch over its safety all the year +round. Look there! One of them has just glided out of the lowest storey +of his dwelling, which is under the water. With what mild and gentle +eyes he looks around him! He has never yet seen man! + +Let us go on further. In the shadow of an old hollow tree rests a family +of stags. A buck and a doe with her two little fawns. + +The buck has come forward into the sunlight; his stately form seems to +give him pleasure; he licks his smooth, shiny coat again and again; +softly scratches his back with his branching antlers, and struts about +with a proud, self-confident air, daintily raising his slender legs from +time to time: the undulating movements of his slim and supple form show +off to the best advantage the play of his elastic muscles. + +The doe lies lazily in the rank grass. From time to time she raises her +beautiful head, and looks with her large black eyes so feelingly, so +lovingly at her companion or at her sportive little ones, and if she +perceives they have strayed too far, she utters an uneasy, plaintive +sort of whine, whereupon the little creatures come bounding back to her +helter-skelter, frisking and gambolling about their dam; they cannot +keep still for a moment, all their limbs quiver and shake, and all their +movements are so graceful, so lively, and so lovely. + +Suddenly the buck stands motionless and utters a low cry. He scents +danger and raises his nose on high; his distended nostrils sniff the air +in every direction; he scratches up the ground uneasily with his feet; +runs round and round in a narrow circle with lowered head, and shakes +his antlers threateningly. Once more he stands perfectly still. His +protruding eyes betoken the terror which instinctively seizes him. All +at once he rushes towards his companion; with an indescribable sort of +gentle whine they rub noses together; they too have their language in +which they can understand each other. The two fawns instantly fly in +terror to their mother's side; their tender little limbs are trembling +all over. Then the buck disappears into the forest, but so warily that +the sound of his footsteps is scarcely audible. The doe however remains +in her place, licking her terrified young (which return these maternal +caresses with their little red tongues), and hastily raising her head +and pricking up her ears at the slightest sound. + +Suddenly she springs up. She has heard something which no human ear +could have distinguished. In the far, far distance the forest rings with +a peculiar sound. That sound is familiar to huntsmen. The hounds are now +on the track. The beating-up has begun. The doe throws uneasy glances +around her, but ends by quickly lying down in her place again. She knows +that her companion will return, and that she must wait for him. + +The chase draws nearer and nearer. Presently the buck comes noiselessly +back, and turns with a peculiar kind of squeak towards his mate, who +immediately springs up and scuds away with her young ones obliquely +across the line of the beaters. The buck remains behind a little while +longer, and tears up the ground with his antlers, either from fury, or +on purpose to efface all traces of his mate's lair. Then he stretches +out his neck and begins to yelp loudly, imitating the barking of the +hounds, so as to put them on a wrong track, a stratagem which, as old +hunters will tell you, is often practised by the more cunning sort of +stags. Then, throwing back his antlers, he disappears in the direction +taken by his mate. + +Nearer and nearer come the beaters. The crackling of the down-trodden +brushwood and the shouts of the armed men mingle with the barking of the +dogs. The forest suddenly teems with life. Startled by the cries of the +pursuers, scores and scores of hares and foxes dart away among the trees +in every direction. Sometimes a panting fox makes for an open hole, but +bounds back terrified before the fiery eyes of the badger which inhabits +it. Here and there a grey-streaked wolf skulks along among the +scampering hares, standing still, from time to time, with his tail +between his legs, to look round for some place of refuge, and then, as +the pursuing voices come nearer, running off again with a dismal howl. + +And yet no one pursues these animals; the huntsmen are after a greater, +a nobler prey, a stag with mighty antlers. The beaters draw nearer and +nearer; the dogs are already on the track; the blast of a horn indicates +that they are hard upon the stag. + +"Hurrah, hurrah!" resounds from afar. The beaters, advancing from +different directions, halt and fall into their places, completely +barring the way. The din of the hunt approaches rapidly. + +Shortly afterwards, a peculiar rustling noise is heard. The hunted +stags, with their young ones, break through the thicket and disappear. A +broad chasm lies between them and the beaters. Quick as lightning, both +the noble beasts bound over the fallen tree-stumps which lie in the way, +and reach the chasm. The pursuit is both before and behind, but the +danger is greatest from behind, for there the herculean hero, the bold +Amazon, and the ardent Transylvanian huntsman head the chase. The buck +leaps across the broad chasm without the slightest effort, raising both +feet at the same time and throwing back his head; the doe also prepares +for the leap, but her young ones shrink back in terror from the dizzy +abyss. At this the poor doe collapses altogether; her knees give way +beneath her, and bowing her head she remains beside her young. A dart, +hurled by the Transylvanian huntsman, pierces the animal's side. The +wounded beast utters a piteous cry, resembling the moan of a human +being, but much more horrible. Even her slayer, moved by sudden +compassion, forbears to touch her till she has ceased to suffer. + +The two kids remain standing mournfully beside their dead dam, and allow +themselves to be taken alive. + +Meanwhile, the flying buck, shaking his heavy antlers with frenzied +rage, rushes with bloodshot eyes upon the beaters who bar his way. The +beaters, well knowing what this generally mild and timid beast is +capable of in his valiant despair, throw themselves with one accord to +the ground so as to allow him a free passage. A few of the dogs, indeed, +go at him; but the now furious animal gores them with his antlers, hurls +them bleeding to the ground, and then dashes off towards the swamps. + +"After him!" roars the hero, in a voice of thunder, and he urges his +horse towards the chasm over which the stag has just flown. + +"Help, Jesu!" cry the terrified beaters on the opposite side; but the +next moment their terror is changed to boisterous joy; the horse with +his bold rider has come safely across. + +Of the whole of his suite only two dared to imitate him, the stately +Amazon and the gentle stripling. Both horses flew over the abyss at the +same moment; the lady's long velvet robe flapped the air like a banner +during the leap, and she threw a proud look behind her as if to inquire +whether any man was bold enough to follow her. + +Their suite thought it just as well not to risk their necks over such a +piece of foolhardiness. Only the young Transylvanian made a dash at the +chasm, although, as his horse had already injured one of its hind legs +in the forest, he might have been quite sure that it was unequal to such +an effort. Fortunately for him, just before the leap his saddle-girth +burst and he was pitched across the chasm, just managing to scramble up +the bank on the other side. His good steed, less fortunate, was only +able to reach the opposite margin with its front feet; and after a wild +and hopeless struggle, fell crashing back into the abyss below. + +The three riders alone pursued the flying stag, which, now that he had +got clear away, drew his pursuers after him into the marsh-lands. The +hero was close upon his heels; the Amazon and her cavalier trotted a +little on one side, for the forest was very dense here, and prevented +them from going forward abreast. At last the stag forced his way into +the thick reed-grown fens and took to the water, with the hero still in +hot pursuit. The youthful riders were also on the point of plunging +among the reeds, when two hideous, black monsters, fiercely snorting, +suddenly confronted them. They had fallen foul of a brood of wild swine. +The loathsome beasts had been lying, deaf to everything around them, in +their bed of trampled reeds and slush, and only became aware of the +presence of strangers when the youth's horse, in bounding over them, +trampled to death a couple of the numerous litter that lay crouching by +the side of the sow. The rest of the speckled little pigs scattered +squeaking among the reeds, while the two old ones, savagely grunting, +advanced to the attack. The sow fell at once upon the slayer of her +little ones; but the boar remained, for a moment, on his haunches; his +bristles stood erect; he pricked up his ears, gnashed his tusks +together, then, wildly rolling his little bloodshot eyes, rushed at the +Amazon with a dull roar. + +The youth flung his javelin at the sow from afar with a steady hand. The +dart whirred through the air and then stuck fast, upright and quivering, +in the horny skull of the impetuous beast, the point piercing to the +very brain. The sow, not unlike a huge unicorn, ran forward a little +distance; but its eyes had lost their sight, and it staggered past the +rider only to fall down dead without a sound, a little distance off. + +The lady calmly awaited the furious boar. She held her dart with a +reversed grasp, point downwards, and drew tight her horse's reins. The +noble steed stood perfectly motionless, but he pointed his ears, threw a +sidelong glance at the boar, and at the very instant when the rabid +beast had passed beneath the horse's belly, and was about to rip it +asunder with a powerful upward heave of his gleaming tusks, the +well-trained charger suddenly reared and sprang over his assailant; at +the same instant the Amazon deftly stooped and hurled her dart deep +between the shoulder-blades of the wild boar. + +The mortally-wounded beast sank bellowing down into the long grass. Once +more he would have rushed upon the girl, but the youth sprang, quick as +light, from his horse, and gave him the _coup de grace_ with his dagger. + +At that moment the blast of a horn was heard in the distance. The hero +had brought down the stag. The other horsemen, who now overtook the +leaders of the chase (but only after making a wide circuit), welcomed +the hero of the day with loud cries of "Eljen!"[4] + + [Footnote 4: _Eljen!_ = Long live!] + +The herculean horseman was mud-stained from head to foot, nor did the +others look much better; only the Amazon's robe was spotless and untorn. +Even at such times a girl knows how to take care of her clothes! + +When the hero beheld the wild beast slain by his niece, which, as it lay +stretched out stark and stiff before him, looked even larger than +life-size, he was at first deeply affected, as if he now, for the first +time, fully recognized the greatness of the peril to which his darling +had been exposed, and he exclaimed, not without alarm--"My Nelly!" but +immediately afterwards he stretched out his hand towards her with a +smile, and gazed round triumphantly upon the bystanders. + +"Did I not say she had my blood in her veins?" + +Every one hastened to pay an appropriate compliment to the radiant +heroine, who appeared to experience, on this occasion, something of that +peculiar satisfaction which only belongs to the lucky huntsman. + +The hero again looked proudly around till his eye fell upon the young +Transylvanian, who was now sitting on a fresh horse. Him he at once +accosted, and pointing to the dead boar asked-- + +"Nicolas, my son! prithee tell me, does Transylvania produce such boars +as that?" + +Now, not to mention that the Transylvanian was already somewhat sore on +account of his recent mishap, it was not to be expected that he, a +Transylvanian born and bred, would for a single moment permit the +assumption that any natural product of Hungary was superior to the like +product of Transylvania to pass unchallenged, so he answered defiantly-- + +"Most certainly, and even finer ones." + +Nothing at that moment could have more mightily offended the questioner +than this curt answer. What! to tell an enthusiastic huntsman that he +will find elsewhere game even finer than what he has just been lauding +to the skies; game, too, which the darling of his heart has just slain! +It was simply outrageous. + +"Very well, my son, very well," growled the hero; "we shall see, we +shall see!" + +With obvious marks of annoyance on his face, he turned away from his +contradictor, and ordered that the quarry should be conveyed at once to +the hunting-box. Not another word did he exchange with any one but his +Nelly; but her he literally overwhelmed with compliments and caresses. + + * * * * * + +It was already late in the afternoon when the hunters sat them down to a +simple but tasty repast spread upon a huge and level grass-plot in the +midst of the wood. Wine and merry jests soon set everything right again; +they talked of everything at the same time, of war and the chase, of +beautiful dames, of poetry (a fashionable subject then amongst the +higher classes), and of the intrigues of courts; but even after all this +blithe discourse the hero could not quite forget his grievance, and +again he inquired impatiently-- + +"So there really is excellent sport in Transylvania?" + +The young Transylvanian began to feel this perpetual harping on the same +string a little tiresome. He had never meant to be taken so literally. +The bald-pate, remarking the growing tension, sought to change the +conversation, and raising his beaker proposed the following toast-- + +"God keep the Turks in a good humour." + +But the hero angrily overturned his glass. + +"God grant no such thing!" cried he savagely. "I'm not going to pray for +the goggle-eyed dogs now, after fighting against them all my days. The +man who is always trying to change masters is a fool." + +"Yet the Turk is a very gracious master to us," put in the young +Transylvanian, with an ambiguous smile. + +"Ha, ha! didn't I say so? With you, even Turks are bigger and finer than +they are with us. Of course! of course! In Transylvania everything +flourishes better than in Hungary: the boars are bigger, the Turks are +daintier, than they are in this part of the country." + +At this moment David, the old huntsman, approached the hero and +whispered something in his ear. The hero's features brightened as if by +magic, and springing from his seat he cried--"Give me my gun!" then, +holding his long, silver-mounted musket in his hand, he turned towards +his guests with a radiant countenance. "All of you stay here. There is a +colossal boar close at hand. You shall see him, my son," added he, +tapping Nicolas on the shoulder. "Twice already have I vainly pursued +the fellow; this time I mean to catch him. He is, I assure you, a +descendant in the flesh of the Calydonian boar"--and with that, carried +away by his enthusiasm, he hastened towards that part of the wood which +the old huntsman had pointed out to him. David he presently ordered +back: nobody was to accompany him. + +"I know not how it is," whispered Helen to the youth at her side, "but I +have a foreboding that my uncle is in danger. How I wish you were by his +side!" + +The youth said nothing in reply, but he instantly stood up and seized +his gun. + +"Pray don't go after him," remarked the Transylvanian, when he saw the +young man about to hasten off. "You will only enrage him. He wants to do +the whole business himself, and a man who has exterminated hordes of +Tartars can easily dispose of a single brute beast." + +And so they kept the youth back from going. The men went on drinking, +and the lady remained in a brown study, glancing uneasily, from time to +time, at the skirts of the wood. + +Suddenly a shot resounded through the forest. + +Every one put down his glass and glanced at his neighbour with a beating +heart. + +A few moments passed and then they heard the roar of a wild beast; but +it was not the well-known roar of a mortally-wounded boar--no, it was a +peculiar, gurgling, half-stifled sound that told of a fierce struggle. + +"What is that?" was the question which rose to every one's lips. "Surely +he would call out if he were in danger!" Then came a second shot. Every +one instantly sprang to his feet. "What was that?" they cried. "Oh! let +us go! let us go!" exclaimed the girl, trembling in every limb, and the +whole company hastened in the direction of the shot. + + * * * * * + +Our hero had scarcely advanced four or five hundred paces into the +thicket when, at the foot of a mighty oak, he came upon the wild beast +he sought. It was a gigantic boar, with span-long, glistening black +bristles on its back and forehead; the tough hide lay, like plated +armour, in thick folds about its huge neck; its feet were long and +sinewy. Lazily grunting, it was making for itself a bed beneath the +bushes in which its shapeless body was stretched out at full length, and +it had found a place for its enormous head by rooting out with its tusks +bushes as thick as a man's arm. + +On hearing approaching footsteps, the monster irritably raised its head, +opened wide its jaws, and cast a sidelong glance at its assailant. + +Our hero knelt upon one knee so as to take better aim, and fired at the +wild beast just as it suddenly raised its head, so that the bullet +pierced its neck instead of its skull, wounding it seriously but not +mortally. + +The wounded boar instantly sprang from its lair, and gnashing its +crooked tusks together so that sparks flew from them, rushed upon its +foe. It would not have been difficult to have avoided such a furious +attack by a skilful side-spring; but our hero was not the man to get out +of any opponent's way; so he threw his gun aside, tore his dagger from +its sheath, faced the savage beast, and dealt at its head a blow +sufficient to have cleaved it to the chine; but the tremendous blow fell +short upon one of the monster's tusks, and the dagger, coming into +contact with the stone-like bone, broke off short at the hilt. + +Half stunned by the shock, the boar only succeeded in grazing the hero's +leg, whereupon the latter seized the beast by both ears and a desperate +struggle began. Weaponless as he was, he grappled with the monster, +which, grunting and roaring, twisted its head about in every direction; +but the hero's iron grasp held fast the broad ears of the monster with +invincible force, and when the boar tried to overturn its assailant by +suddenly going down on its haunches, the hero, with a swift and +tremendous blow of his clenched fist, hurled it backwards, falling +himself indeed at the same time, but uppermost, and quickly recovering +his balance pressed down with his whole weight upon the boar (which +valiantly but vainly continued struggling against superior strength), +and triumphantly bestrided its huge paunch. + +The boar now appeared to be completely beaten; its glassily glaring eyes +were protruding, the blood streamed from its jaws and nostrils; it had +ceased to bellow, but a rattling sound came from its throat; its legs +writhed convulsively, its snout hung flabbily down; it was plain that it +could not hold out much longer. + +The hero had now only to call to his companions, who were close at hand, +but that would have been too humiliating; or to wait till the boar bled +to death, but that would have been too tiresome. Suddenly he recollected +that he had a Turkish knife in his girdle, and, meaning to put a speedy +end to the long tussle, he pressed down the boar's head with his knee +and felt for his knife with one hand. + +At that moment the report of a gun[5] resounded somewhere in the wood. +The down-trodden boar suddenly seemed to feel that the pressure of his +opponent's hands and knees was slackening, and rallying all his +remaining strength, threw off his assailant and dealt him one last blow +with his tusks, and that blow was fatal, for it ripped open the man's +throat. + + [Footnote 5: Some pretend that this shot was fired by a + secret assassin sent from Vienna. Many doubt whether a + shot was fired at all.] + + * * * * * + +His kinsmen and friends, hastening to the spot, found the hero in the +throes of death by the side of the dead boar. They rushed up with loud +lamentations, and bound up his throat with their kerchiefs. + +"It is nothing, my children; it is nothing!" he gasped, and expired. + +"Alas! poor warrior!" sighed those who stood around him. + +"Alas! my country!" sobbed Helen, raising her tearful eyes to heaven. + +The gala-day had become a day of mourning; the hunt a funeral. + +The guests sorrowfully followed the body of their best friend to +Csakatorny. Only the bald-head took the opposite direction. + +"Didn't I say that life was meant for other and better things?" murmured +he. "Well, well! the world is large, and men are many. I'll go a kingdom +further on." + + * * * * * + +Thus died Nicolas Zrinyi[6] the younger, his country's greatest poet and +bravest son. + + [Footnote 6: It is not without reason that Jokai + alludes to Zrinyi as "the hero." He was one of the + greatest warriors of his day (1618-1666), and his + victories over the Turks were many and brilliant. As a + poet he stands high, even judged by a modern standard. + His chief works are his great epic, _Szigeti + veszedelem_, and his religious poems, _Keresztre_, "On + the Cross!"] + +Thus died the man whom Fortune always respected, the darling, the +bulwark, the ornament of his fatherland. + +In vain will you now seek for his hunting-box or his castle. All has +perished--the name, the family, nay, the very remembrance of the hero. + +The general and the statesman are forgotten; only one part of him still +survives, only one part of him will live eternally--the poet. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE HOUSE AT EBESFALVA. + + +And now we too will go "a kingdom further on." + +Let us go one kingdom forward and four years backward. We are in +Transylvania; the year is 1662. + +A simple country-house stands before us, at the lower end of Ebesfalva, +being almost the last house in the place. Evidently the architect of +this edifice had rather an eye to usefulness than beauty, for each part +of it has a style of its own, and differs from every other part in +shape, size, and quality. On both sides stand stables, cow-houses, +wagon-sheds, fowl-houses, and high-gabled, straw-thatched sheepfolds. In +the rear lies an orchard, from which the pointed roof of a beehive peeps +forth, and in the middle of the courtyard stands the whitewashed +dwelling-house, surrounded by shady nut trees, beneath which stands a +round table improvised from a millstone. A stone wall separates the +courtyard from a thrashing-floor, in which we see incipient haycocks +piled up into hillocks, and enormous stacks of corn, on the topmost +point of the tallest of which an adventurous peacock shrieks exultantly. +It is evening; the herds are returning home; the oxen are being unyoked +from the huge, maize-laden wagons; the herds, jingling their bells, come +back from the pastures; the swine jostle one another in the narrow +gateway and rush grunting to their troughs; the cocks and hens are +squabbling in the large nut tree, where they have taken up their +quarters for the night; far away sounds the vesper bell, and further +still the song of the village beauty, on her way to the spring; the +hands see to their cattle: one carries a freshly-mown bundle of +millet-grass across the farmyard, another bends beneath the weight of a +huge pitcher, filled to overflowing with yellowish, fragrant, foaming +milk, fresh from the udder. Through the kitchen window is to be seen the +merry sparkle of a roaring fire, over which a girl with round, red +cheeks holds a large pan; the fragrant odour of the savoury mess spreads +far and wide. And now the meal is served on large, green platters; the +family take their places round the millstone table, and eat with a good +appetite, the white watch-dogs looking up respectfully all the while at +the hasty gobblers. Then the dishes are cleared away, and the maize is +shot out of the wagons beneath the projecting eaves. The peasant girls +come trooping in from the neighbouring villages to help to husk the +pods, and sit them down upon the odorous heaps. Some merry wag or other +scoops out a ripe pumpkin, carves eyes and a mouth in it, sticks a +burning light inside, and hangs it up by way of a lantern, and the girls +shriek and pretend to be terribly frightened. Then the more handy lads, +sitting on over-turned bread-baskets, plait long wreaths out of the +maize-husks; and while the tranquil toil proceeds, merry songs are sung +and fairy tales are told of golden-haired princesses and persecuted +orphans. Now and again the fun requires a kiss or two to keep it going, +and loud screams proclaim the daring deed to all the world. The little +children cry out for joy if they chance to find an occasional scarlet or +mottled maize knob among so many yellow ones. And there they sit and +tell tales, and sing and laugh at the merest nothings till all the maize +is husked, and then they wish one another good-night, and, chatting and +bawling, linger over a long, last good-bye; and then they go singing +aloud along their homeward way, partly from fun and partly from pure +light-heartedness. + +Then every one enters his house, shuts the door behind him, and puts out +the fire; the sheep-dogs hold long dialogues in the village streets; the +crescent moon rises; the night watchman begins to cry the hours in +long-drawn rhythm; the others sleep and do not hear his golden saws. +Only in one window of the manor-house a light is shining. There some one +still is up. + +The watchers are a grey-haired, venerable dame and a much younger +serving-maid. The old lady is reading from a worn-out psalter, every +line of which she already knows by heart; the serving-maid, as if not +content with a long day's work, has sat herself down to her distaff, and +draws long threads out of the silky flax which she heckled yesterday and +carded to-day. + +"Go to bed, Clara," said the old woman kindly, "it is enough if I remain +up. Besides, you have to rise early to-morrow morning." + +"I could not sleep till our mistress has returned," replied the girl, +continuing her work. "Even when all the men are in, I always feel so +frightened till she has come home, but when once she is here, I feel as +safe as if we were behind the walls of a fortress." + +"Quite right, my child; she is, indeed, worth many men. Shame upon it +that the cares and anxieties which it behoves a man to bear should rest +upon her shoulders! She has to look after the whole of this vast +household, and, as if that were not enough, she must needs farm the +estates of her sisters, the ladies Banfi and Teleki. How many lawsuits +must she not carry on with this neighbour and with that! But they've met +their match in her, I'll warrant. She appears in person before the +judges and pleads so shrewdly, that our best advocates might take +lessons from her. And then, too, when my Lord Banfi came capering hither +with his killing ways, some little time ago, fancying that our gracious +lady was one of your straw-widows, how she sent him away with a flea in +his ear! The worthy gentleman did not know whether he stood on his head +or his heels, and yet he is one of the chief men in the land! And +afterwards, too, when, out of revenge, he saddled us with that +freebooter of a captain and his lanzknechts, don't you recollect how our +lady had them all flogged out of the village, and how the rascals took +to their heels when they saw our gracious mistress herself march out +against them, blunderbuss in hand?" + +"Would that they had not scampered off quite so quickly," interrupted +the girl, with a burst of enthusiasm. "I'd have laid the poker about +their ears, I warrant you." + +"Hark'e, Clara! when a woman has been forced to keep house alone for so +long a time, and to defend herself and family by the might of her own +arms, she comes at last to feel herself a man all over. That is why our +mistress looks as stern as if she had never been a girl." + +"But tell me, Aunt Magdalene," returned the girl, drawing her chair +nearer, "shall we never see master again?" + +"Alas! God only knows," replied the old dame, sighing. "How can I tell +when the poor fellow will be released from his captivity? I always had a +presentiment that it would come to this, and I said so, but no one +heeded me. It happened in this wise. In the days when our Prince +George[7] of blessed memory, not content with his own land, must needs +set out to conquer Poland at the head of the Hungarian chivalry, our +good master, Sir Michael, went with him. Oh, how I tried--and our lady +too--to keep him back. They were a newly-wedded couple then, and the +good gentleman himself had little heart for war--he always preferred to +sit at home among his books, his water-mills, and his fruit trees--but +honour called him and he went. I begged him to at least take my son Andy +with him. God gave me that thought, for otherwise we should never have +heard again of our gracious master, for when his Highness, our Sovereign +Prince George, beheld the bestial hordes of Tartars marching out against +him, he himself galloped off home, leaving his nobility captives in the +hands of the heathen, who dragged them off in fetters to Tartary. My son +Andy, who was of no use to them, for he was badly wounded in the thigh, +and therefore could not work, they sent home; he brought the tidings +that Sir Michael was sickening in sad confinement, and the Tartars, +perceiving how high he stood in the esteem of his fellow-prisoners, took +him for their prince, and set upon his head such a frightfully high +ransom, that all his property turned into gold could not have paid it +off. Nevertheless our noble lady rejoiced exceedingly when she heard +that her husband was still alive, and ran hither and thither and left no +stone unturned to raise the money. But neither her kind friends nor her +dear relations would lend her anything--no, not on the best security, +for no one willingly lends on land in time of war. So she sold her +treasures, her bridal dower which her mother had given her; all the +beautiful silver plate, jewelled bracelets, and embossed gold and pearl +ornaments which her ancestors had handed down to her; her large +satin-trimmed, fur-embroidered mantle and her filagreed _mente_[8]; her +rings, agraffes, and hairpins; her carbuncle bracelets and orient +pearls; her diamond ear-rings--in short, everything which could be +turned into money. Yet even all that came to not one-half of what the +Tartar demanded, so what does she do but farm the estates of her +sisters, plough up the fallow-lands, and cut down the forests to make +way for corn-fields. To find time for more work, she turned night into +day. No sort of husbandry whereby money could be made escaped her +attention. At one time she laid down clay-pits and dug out quarries, the +products of which found customers in the neighbourhood. At another time +she bred prize oxen and sold them to the Armenian herdsmen. She visited +all the markets in person; carried her wine as far as Poland, her corn +to Hermannstadt, her honey, wax, and preserved fruits to Kronstadt--nay, +in order to obtain a fair price for her wools, she crossed the border +and took them as far as Debreczin. And how frugally she fared all the +time! It is true she never stinted her servants in anything, but she +seemed to weigh every morsel that went into her own mouth. At harvest +time she would have nothing cooked for herself at home for weeks +together, so that she might remain in the fields all day. A piece of +bread which would have been too little for a child was all she ate, and +her drink was a bowl of spring water; yet, believe me, Clara, we never +once saw her in a bad humour, and never did a single bitter tear fall +upon the dry bread which her loyalty to her husband constrained her to +live upon." + + [Footnote 7: George Rakoczy I., Prince of Transylvania, + 1630-1648.] + + [Footnote 8: _Mente._ A fur pelisse.] + +"And why was all this?" + +"I'll tell you, my child. The money which she thus scraped together by +toil and frugality, year by year, is regularly sent by Andy to Tartary, +in part payment of Sir Michael's ransom. At such times our dear lady +grudges herself every morsel she puts into her mouth." + +The old nurse wiped the tears from her eyes. + +"And what then was the amount of the ransom?" + +"That's more than I can tell you, my daughter. Andy always brings back +the parchment on which the Tartar marks down the amount received and the +amount still due. Our noble lady keeps it herself. I, of course, never +ask any questions about it." + +The girl was silent and appeared to be reflecting; doubly quick the +spindle flew round in her hands, and her heart beat faster too. + +"My son Andy is there now," said the old dame, weary of the long +silence. "I expect him back every hour now; from him we shall hear +something certain." + +At that moment the gate outside creaked on its hinges, a little gig +rolled boisterously into the courtyard, and a joyful barking and yelping +told that an old acquaintance had arrived. + +"Our mistress has come," cried the two servants, rising from their +seats, and at the same moment the door opened and Anna Bornemissa, +Michael Apafi's wife, stepped in. + +A stately woman of almost masculine stature; the outline of her slim but +vigorous and muscular figure is plainly visible through her simple grey +linen dress. She cannot be more than thirty-six, but her face is of +those on which time leaves no trace until extreme old age. Her features +are deeply tanned by the sun, but the velvet down of well-preserved +youth and the natural ruddiness of perfect health lend a peculiar +loveliness to that extraordinary countenance. Her look surprises, +dominates, subdues; the charm which lies concealed there appears not so +much in the features as in the expression--her face is the mirror of a +noble soul. Not as if there was anything hard, rough, stiff, or +masculine in the features themselves: on the contrary. Her brow is +finely arched, delicately smooth, unobscured as yet by a single wrinkle, +and yet so full of majesty; her eyelashes are most exquisitely +pencilled; the shape of the eyes is enchanting, those large, not exactly +wild-black, but rather deep, bright, nut-brown eyes, half hidden by +their long eyelashes, and in those eyes there is so much fire, so much +sparkle, and yet so much coldness. The delicate nose, the oval face, +every feature is so femininely regular. Even the mouth when closed is so +sweet, so tender, the other features seem to use violence towards it to +prevent its smile from spreading further, and yet when it opens, how +haughty, how commanding it becomes. + +"What, still up?" cried she to her servants. + +The voice is pleasantly sonorous, although affliction has somewhat +deadened its lower notes. + +"We thought it best to stay up, in case your ladyship might be kept +waiting outside," replied the old woman, tripping round her mistress and +taking the heavy mantle from her shoulders. + +"Has not Andy yet returned?" asked Lady Apafi, in a low, melancholy +voice. + +"Not yet; but I expect him every moment." + +Lady Apafi sighed deeply. How much of stifled grief, vanishing hope, and +patient renunciation was concealed in that sigh! The recollection of the +manifold sufferings of her wretched life rose up before that heroic +woman's soul. She called to mind her brave struggle with fate, with her +fellow-men, and with her own heart; her love, grafted on pain, had +brought forth not gladness but ungratified longing. Another toilsome +year of her life had passed away. With the self-sacrificing industry of +a bee, she had hoarded up, morsel by morsel, her little store, and who +could tell how many years would be requisite to complete it? And till +then nothing but toil, patience, and unrequited love. + +Lady Apafi, not without an effort, resumed her habitual coldness, wished +her servants good-night, and was already on her way to her chamber, when +Clara rushed forward and kissed her mistress's hand. The lady looked at +her with astonishment. She felt that a burning tear had fallen on her +hand, which the girl held fast and pressed to her lips. + +"What ails you?" asked Dame Apafi, much surprised. + +"Nothing," replied the girl, sobbing; "it is only that I feel so sorry +for your ladyship. I have long had an idea in my head, but have never +yet dared to express it. We have often talked about our master's +captivity and his grievous ransom. We village girls have all of us got +necklaces of gold and silver coins which are no good to us. So we have +agreed among ourselves to club together all this money now lying idle +and give it to your ladyship towards our master's ransom. It may not be +much, but still is something." + +Lady Apafi, her eyes glistening with involuntary tears, pressed hard the +peasant girl's trembling hand. + +"I thank thee, my girl," she said, deeply touched. "I prize thy offer +more highly than if my sister Banfi had placed ten thousand gold chains +at my disposal. But God will also be my helper. In Him is my trust." + +At that moment the trampling of horses was heard in the courtyard and +the dogs fell to barking. + +"Who can that be? Robbers, perhaps!" stammered the old nurse, and +neither of the two servants durst approach the door. + +Then Dame Apafi took the light from the table, stepped to the door, +opened it, and looked out into the courtyard. + +"Who's there?" she cried, loudly and clearly. + +"We!--I mean to say I," returned a hesitating voice, which all three +immediately recognized as Andy's. + +"Oh, 'tis you? Come hither quickly!" said Lady Apafi joyfully, pushing +Andy into the room, who was plainly very much confused, for he kept on +twirling about his hat in his hands, and looked sheepishly at the floor. + +"Well, did you see him and speak to him? Is he well?" asked Lady Apafi +impetuously. + +"Yes, he is quite well," replied the man, glad to have found his voice +again; "he respectfully kisses your ladyship's hand. He also bade me say +that God is good!" + +"But what do you keep looking sideways for? At whom are the dogs +barking?" + +"At the black horse perhaps; it is a long time since they saw him." + +"And you gave the purse to the Mirza?" + +Instead of answering this question, Andy began to fumble about in the +pocket of his sheepskin jacket, and as this pocket was very high up, +narrow and deep, his features expressed the most exquisite torture till +he had fished up the parchment, and he trembled all over as he handed it +to his mistress. + +"Is there still much in arrear? What says the Mirza?" asked Lady Apafi, +with a very shaky voice. + +"There is not much more. One might even say there is very little," +replied Andy, with downcast eyes, fumbling in his confusion with the rim +of his hat. + +"But how much, how much then?" they all cried together. + +Andy got very red. + +"Well--well, there is nothing at all!" + +He said this in a broken voice, and with that he burst into a loud and +long roar of laughter, and immediately after wept as if his heart would +break. + +The mind of Dame Apafi instantly grasped the whole truth. + +"Speak, man!" cried she passionately, seizing the fellow by the +shoulder; "you have brought my husband back with you?" + +Andy waved his fist behind him and nodded his head; he laughed and wept +at the same time; but, to save his life, he could not have uttered a +word. + +Dame Apafi, with a sob and a cry of boundless joy, rushed to the door +which already stood ajar. Some one had been waiting there and listening +all the time; it was Michael Apafi, her long expected, often bewailed +consort. + +"Michael! my beloved husband!" cried the woman, trembling with emotion; +and half swooning, half beside herself, she fell upon her husband's +neck, murmuring unintelligible words of love, joy, and tenderness. + +Apafi pressed her to his breast. She embraced him convulsively; no other +sound was to be heard but a deep sobbing. + +"Thou art mine!" she stammered, after a long pause, when the tempest of +her emotion had somewhat subsided and she was more herself. + +"I am thine," cried Apafi; "and I swear that nothing in the world shall +ever tear me from thee again!" + +"O God, what bliss!" cried Anna, raising her streaming eyes to heaven. +"What joy thou hast brought back to me!" she stammered once more, +leaning on her husband and hiding her face in his bosom. + +"And if the whole world were mine," continued Apafi, "even then I should +not be rich enough to requite thy devotion. I take God to witness, that +if I could call a kingdom my own I would give it thee, and think it but +a beggarly recompense." + +The joyful, loving pair, happy beyond all expression, were then left +alone with their joy and happiness. Late into the night burned the taper +in their window. How much, how endlessly much they had to say to one +another! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A PRINCE IN HIS OWN DESPITE. + + +A year had elapsed since Michael Apafi's return home. There was a great +hubbub in the house at Ebesfalva. One team of horses had scarcely had +time to rest, when off went another at full gallop along the high-road; +the servants themselves were sent hither and thither; some great trouble +had evidently visited the house, but for all that, not a glum or +sorrowful face was to be seen. + +To those who could question discreetly, it was presently whispered that +the wife of Michael Apafi expected every moment to be delivered of a +child. + +Good Sir Michael never quitted the chamber of his suffering consort. The +gossips said that the sight of her husband was a great consolation to +the invalid lady, and that he never ceased whispering sweet, caressing +words into her ear. + +Suddenly a wild tumult filled the courtyard, and, to the great terror of +the servants assembled there, four-and-twenty mounted Albanians, armed +with swords and lances, and headed by a big-headed Turkish Aga, dashed +up to the door. + +"Is your master at home?" cried the Aga dictatorially to Andy, who stood +rooted to the spot with fright. "For if he is," continued he, without +waiting for an answer, "tell him to come here. I have something to say +to him."--Andy still could not find his voice.--"If, however," proceeded +the Turk emphatically, "if he won't come, I'll go and fetch him." + +And with these words he sprang from his horse, and was crossing the +threshold, when Andrew plucked up sufficient courage to stammer--"But, +most gracious sir ..." The Turk turned savagely upon him. + +"It were better, my son, if you did not chatter so much!" said he, and +forthwith he plunged into the vestibule. + +At that very moment Apafi, startled by the clatter of the sabres, came +out of his wife's chamber. He was not a little alarmed when he found +himself face to face with this unexpected guest. + +"Are you Michael Apafi?" asked the Turk wrathfully. + +"The same, at your service, gracious sir," returned Apafi meekly. + +"Good! My master, his Highness, the famous Ali Pasha, commands you to +instantly get into your carriage, and come to my lord's camp at +Kis-Selyk without a single attendant." + +"This is a pretty go," murmured Apafi to himself. "Pardon me, worthy +Aga," added he aloud; "just now it is quite impossible for me to comply +with your wish. My wife lies in the pangs of child-birth; the issues of +life and death depend on the next five minutes. I cannot leave her now." + +"Send for a doctor if your wife is ill; and recollect that to bring down +the wrath of the illustrious Pasha on your head is not the proper way to +cure _her_." + +"Grant me but one day, and then I don't care if I lose my head." + +"You won't lose your head if you obey instantly; but otherwise I'll not +answer for the consequences. Come! don't be a fool." + +Anna heard in her chamber the dialogue that was going on outside, and +anxiously called her consort. Apafi quitted the Aga and hastened to his +wife. + +"What is it?" asked the sufferer, much disturbed. How pale she was at +that moment! + +"Nothing, nothing, my darling! Some one has sent for me, but I don't +mean to go." + +But Lady Apafi had perceived the points of the Turkish lances through +the rifts of the window-curtains, and she cried despairingly-- + +"Michael, they want to carry you off!" Then she clasped her husband +convulsively to her heart. "I won't let you go, Michael! I won't lose +you again. You shall not be dragged off into captivity. Rather let them +kill me." + +"Calm yourself, dear child," said Apafi soothingly. "I really don't know +what they want me for. I have certainly done nothing to offend these +good people. I suppose it is an attempt to levy black-mail. I'll satisfy +them." + +"Alas! I have an evil foreboding. My heart fails me. Some calamity +threatens you," stammered the sick woman; then, bursting into a violent +fit of sobbing, she threw herself on her husband's bosom. "Michael, I +shall never see you again." + +Meanwhile, the Aga outside began to feel bored, so he fell to hammering +at the door, and cried-- + +"Apafi! hi! Apafi! come out! I may not enter your wife's chamber, for +that would be an abomination to a servant of Allah; but if you don't +come out at once I'll burn your house down." + +"I'd better go, perhaps," said Apafi, trying to soothe his wife with +kisses. "My refusal would only make matters worse for us. They are sure +to let me go. I shall be back in the twinkling of an eye." + +"I shall never see you again," gasped Anna. She was near to swooning. + +Apafi took advantage of this momentary fainting fit, plucked up his +courage, left his wife, and joined the Aga with streaming eyes. + +"Well, sir, let us be off," said the Turk. "But surely you won't go +without your sword, just as if you were some poor peasant," continued he +fiercely. "Go back, I say; gird on your sword, and tell your wife that +she need fear nothing." + +Apafi returned to his room, and as he took down his large +silver-embossed sword (it was hanging up on the wall right over the bed) +he said cheerily to his wife-- + +"Look, now! there can scarcely be anything unpleasant in store for me, +or they would not have bidden me buckle on my sword. Trust in God!" + +"I do, I do trust in Him," she replied, convulsively kissing her +husband's hand and pressing it to her heaving bosom. Then she broke +forth again into bitter lamentations. "Apafi, if I die, do not forget +me." + +"Alas!" cried Apafi; then bitterly cursing his fate, he tore himself out +of his consort's arms, and wishing all Turks, born and to be born, at +the bottom of the sea, rushed violently out of the room. + +Then he threw himself into his carriage, and looked neither up nor down, +but wrestled all the way with the one thought that if his wife were now +to die, he would not be able to receive her parting words; and this +thought conjured up before him a whole series of images each more +lugubrious than the other. + +He and his escort had scarcely left Ebesfalva a mile behind them when +the Turks caught sight of a horseman dashing after them at full tilt, +obviously bent on overtaking them, and they called Apafi's attention to +the fact. At first he absolutely refused to listen to them; but when +they told him that the horseman came from the direction of Ebesfalva, he +made the carriage stop and awaited the messenger. + +It was Andy who came galloping up, with waving handkerchief and loosely +hanging reins. + +"Well, Andrew! what has happened?" cried Apafi with a beating heart to +his servant while he was still a long way off. + +"Good news, sir!" cried Andy: "our most gracious lady has just now given +birth to a son, and she herself, thank God! is quite out of danger." + +"Blessed be the name of the Lord!" cried Apafi, with a lightened heart; +and as he dismissed the messenger, the idea which was at the bottom of +all his griefs vanished from his brain, and with it all his griefs also. +He thought of his new-born son, and in the light of that thought he +began to regard his Turkish escort with other eyes: they now seemed to +him as good, honourable, civilized a set of people as it was possible to +find on the face of the earth. + +It was late at night when they reached Ali Pasha's camp. The sentinels +slept like badgers; you might have carried off the whole camp bodily so +far as they were concerned. Apafi had to wait in front of the Pasha's +tent till the latter had huddled on his clothes. The curtains of the +tent were then drawn aside, and he was invited to enter. Ali Pasha was +sitting with folded arms on a carpet spread out in the back part of the +tent; behind him stood two gorgeously-dressed Moors with drawn +scimitars. The outlines of a couple of figures were distinctly visible +through the tapestry wall which separated the back part of the tent from +the audience chamber--no doubt the Pasha's wives, on the alert to pick +up something of what was going on. + +"Art thou that same Michael Apafi who was for some years the prisoner of +the Tartar Mirza?" asked the Pasha, after the usual greetings. + +"The same, most gracious Pasha, to whom also the Khan compassionately +remitted the remainder of the ransom money." + +"Think no more of that. The Mirza remitted the remainder of the ransom +money because my master, the Sublime Sultan, commanded him so to do, +and the illustrious Padishah will do yet more for thee." + +"Wonderingly I listen, and gratefully; not knowing how I have deserved +such grace," returned Apafi. + +"The Sublime Sultan has heard how honestly, discreetly, and manfully +thou hast borne thy doleful captivity, and how thou didst win the hearts +of thy fellow-captives, insomuch that they all looked up to thee, though +among slaves there is no distinction of rank. For which cause therefore, +and also having regard to the fact that the present Prince of +Transylvania, John Kemeny, would fain rebel against the Sublime Porte, +the illustrious Padishah, I say, has for these reasons resolved to raise +thee without delay to the throne of Transylvania and keep thee there." + +"Me! You are pleased to jest with your servant, most gracious sir!" +stuttered Apafi. + +His eyes were blinded by excess of light. + +"Nay, thou hast not the slightest cause to be amazed thereat. The +Padishah has but to nod, and pashas and princes become slaves, beggars, +or corpses. He nods again, and beggars and slaves rise up into their +places. Thou art highly favoured, for thou hast found grace before him. +Use it discreetly then, but beware of abusing it!" + +"But, most gracious sir, does it occur to you how I'm to become a +prince?" + +"Leave that to me. I'll make thee one." + +"But Transylvania has got another prince, John Kemeny." + +"Leave that to me also. I'll dispose of him." + +Apafi shrugged his shoulders. He felt that he had never been in such a +mess in all his life. + +"My wife was quite right in her presentiment that a great misfortune was +about to befall me," thought he to himself. + +The Pasha began again. + +"Summon therefore a Diet at once, so that the installation may take +place as speedily as possible." + +"I summon a Diet! I should like to know who would appear to my summons. +Why, sir, I am the least amongst the gentry of the land; people will +laugh in my face, and say that I am mad." + +"In that case they will soon see that it is they who are mad." + +"But how am I to send out the writs? for, excepting the land of the +Szeklers,[9] Kemeny[10] holds every place." + + [Footnote 9: _Szeklers_ (Siculi). The Szeklers were + originally a military colony placed, at the beginning + of the twelfth century, in the waste lands of + Transylvania, which they engaged to defend against the + incursions of the pagan Pechenegs, on being exempted + from every other obligation.] + + [Footnote 10: John Kemeny, Prince of Transylvania, + 1661-1662.] + +"Then summon the Szeklers. They, at any rate, will come." + +"But I don't even know _their_ chief-men, for I am not a born Szekler. +The only persons I know amongst them are Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and +Stephen Nalaczi." + +"Then summon hither Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, if you +consider them fit and proper persons." + +Apafi began to scratch his head. + +"But supposing they do appear, where shall we hold our Diet? There is no +place for us. At Klausenburg the governor, my brother-in-law, Denis +Banfi, is my sworn enemy, while at Hermannstadt lies John Kemeny in +person." + +"We can assemble here in Kis-Selyk." + +Harassed as he was, Apafi could not help laughing aloud. + +"Why, here there is not a house large enough to hold thirty men," cried +he energetically. + +"What! is there not the church?" interrupted the Pasha. "If that house +be sufficiently fine for the honour of God, I suppose it will do to +honour men in!" + +Apafi saw no further escape. + +"Can you write?" asked the Pasha. + +"Yes, I can do that," replied Apafi, sighing deeply. + +"Very well, for I cannot. So sit down and issue the writs for a Diet." + +A slave then brought in a writing-table, a scroll of parchment, and an +inkhorn. Apafi sat down like a lamb about to be slaughtered, and began +with a caligraphic flourish so large that the Turk sprang up in +affright, and asked what it meant. + +"It is a W," answered Apafi. + +"You won't leave any room for the remaining letters." + +"That is only the initial letter, the others will be much smaller." + +"Read aloud then what you are writing." + +Apafi wrote with a trembling hand and read: "Whereas--" + +The Pasha furiously tore away the parchment and roared at him. + +"Plague take all your whereases and inasmuch-ases! Why all this beating +about the bush? Write the usual formula--'We, Michael Apafi, Prince of +Transylvania, command you, wretched slaves, by these presents, to appear +incontinently before us at Kis-Selyk, under pain of death.'" + +Apafi was brought almost to his wits' ends before he could make the +Pasha comprehend that it was not usual to correspond in this style with +free Hungarian noblemen. At last the Pasha allowed him to write his +letter in his own way, but took care that its purport should be emphatic +and dictatorial. As soon as Apafi had written the letters, Ali Pasha put +a Ciaus on horseback, and sent him off at full speed to all those to +whom the writ was addressed. + +"And now," said Apafi to himself, sighing deeply as he wiped his pen, +"and now I should like to see the man who could tell me what will come +of it all!" + +"Till the Diet assembles," said the Pasha, "you will remain here as my +guest." + +"Cannot I go home then to my wife and child?" asked Apafi, with a +beating heart. + +"To give us the slip, eh? A likely tale. That is always the way with you +Hungarian nobles. Those we won't have at any price are always dangling +about our necks, and begging and praying for the princely diadem; and +those we would place on the throne take to their heels as if we were +going to impale them." And with that the Pasha assigned Apafi a tent and +dismissed him, at the same time giving secret but strict orders to the +guard of honour stationed at the door of the new Prince, not to lose +sight of him for an instant. + +"I'm nicely in for it now," sighed Apafi with the resignation of +despair. + +His solitary hope now was, that the deputies whom he had summoned would +ignore his informal mandate by failing to appear. + + * * * * * + +A few days afterwards, as Apafi still lay on his camp bedstead in the +early morning, Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, with all +the other noble Szeklers to whom the circular had been sent, suddenly +walked into his tent. + +"In Heaven's name!" cried Apafi, starting up, "why have you come +hither?" + +"Your Highness ordered us to come hither," replied Nalaczi. + +"True; but you would have shown far greater wisdom if you had kept away. +What are you going to do?" + +"Solemnly install your Highness, and, if need be, defend you also in the +good old Szekler fashion," replied Stephen Kun. + +"You are too few for that, my brothers," objected Apafi. + +"Pray be so good as to cast a glance outside the tent!" replied Nalaczi, +drawing aside the curtain and pointing to a band of Szeklers armed with +sabres and lances, who had remained outside the tent. "We have marched +out _cum gentibus_, to prove to your Highness that if we have accepted +you as our Prince, we have not done so simply by way of a jest." + +Apafi shrugged his shoulders and began to draw on his boots; but he was +so dazed all the while, that almost an hour elapsed before he was half +dressed. He put on every article of clothing the wrong way, and had to +take it off again. Thus, for example, he had slipped into his mantle +before he even thought of his vest. + +Several hundred gentlemen had met together in Selyk at his bidding, a +thing he had never expected, still less desired. + +When Ali Pasha came out of his tent, he went towards the deputies, took +Apafi by the hand in the presence of them all, threw over his shoulders +a broad, new green velvet mente,[11] put an ermine embroidered cap on +his head, and explained to the assembled crowd that henceforth they were +to regard him as their legitimate Prince; whereupon the Szeklers roared +out deafening "Eljens," raised Apafi on their shoulders, and hoisted him +on to a dais covered with velvet which Ali Pasha had expressly provided +for the occasion. + + [Footnote 11: _Mente._ See Note 2, p. 21.] + +"And now," said the Pasha, "go to church, administer the oaths to the +Prince according to ancient custom, and yourselves take the oath of +allegiance. I have ordered the bells to be rung myself, and you had +better have a mass sung in the usual way." + +"Your pardon, but I am a Calvinist," protested Apafi. + +"So much the better. The ceremony will be over all the quicker, and will +cost less trouble. There is the Rev. Francis Magyari, he will preach the +sermon." + +After that Apafi let them do whatever they liked with him, merely +twirling his long moustaches hither and thither, and shrugging his +shoulders whenever they asked him questions. + +Nalaczi and the other Szeklers thought good to treat him in church with +all the respect due to a sovereign prince, and the Rev. Francis Magyari +improvised a powerful sermon, in which he prophesied, in a voice of +thunder, that the God of Israel who had called David from the sheepfolds +to a throne, and exalted him over all his adversaries, would now also +graciously maintain the cause of His elect even though his enemies were +as numerous as the grass of the field or the sand on the sea-shore. + +This modest little house of prayer could never have thought that it +would have been the scene of a Diet and a coronation; and as for Apafi, +not even in his wildest dreams had it ever occurred to him that such +things might befall him. + +He had eyes and ears neither for the coronation nor for the sermon, but +kept on thinking of his wife and child. What would become of them, poor +creatures; where would they be able to hide their heads when John Kemeny +had put him in prison, confiscated his estates, and driven them out of +house and home? It next occurred to him that, somewhere in Szeklerland, +he had a brother, Stephen Apafi, with whom he had always been on the +most friendly terms, who would certainly take them under his roof if he +saw them destitute. These thoughts made him so forgetful of everything +around him, that when at the close of the sermon all present arose and +intoned the _Te Deum_, he too got up, oblivious of the fact that all +this ceremony was being held in his special honour. + +Then some one behind him placed two hands on his shoulders, pressed him +down into his seat again, and a well-known voice growled into his ear-- + +"Keep your seat." + +Apafi looked in the direction of the voice, and fell back in his chair +completely overcome. His brother Stephen was actually standing behind +him. + +"You here too?" said Apafi, deeply distressed. + +"I was a little late," returned Stephen, "but quite early enough after +all, and I'll venture to remain here till you tell me to go." + +"So you have also resolved to plunge into destruction?" + +"Brother," said Stephen, "we are in the hands of God; but something has +been put into our own hands also which may have a say in the matter," +and he touched the hilt of his sword. "Kemeny has lost the affection of +the greater part of the country; why I need not now tell you. Your cause +is righteous, nor do you lack the means of success." + +"But if it should turn out otherwise, what would become of my wife? Have +you not seen her?" + +"I came straight from her--that is why I came so late." + +"What! You have spoken to her? What did she say about my evil case? Was +she not much troubled?" + +"Not in the least. On the contrary, she was very glad of it, and said +that Transylvania could not have got a better prince; that you deserved +this honour far more than any of the magnates who practise nothing but +tyranny and extortion, and that she much regretted her illness prevented +her from assisting you with her sympathy and counsel." + +"Well, I should have liked it better if the election had fallen upon +her," said Apafi, half in jest and half in anger. + +"Take heed to yourself," answered Stephen archly; "the lady is already +so much used to ruling the roost, that we shall live to see her put the +Prince's diadem on her own head, unless you plant it right firmly on +your temples. Nay, brother, don't look so serious; I was but in jest!" + +But does not the proverb say that there is many a true word spoken in +jest? + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA. + + +Meanwhile, his Highness, Prince John Kemeny, was faring sumptuously at +Hermannstadt. This gentleman's darling vice was gluttony--even if the +whole machinery of state were to fall to pieces in consequence, he would +not have risen from table, and amongst all his counsellors his cook +always stood highest. + +And now, too, we find him at dinner. He has converted the Town-hall to +his own use, and it is thronged by his suite. In the courtyard we see +spurred and iron-clad cuirassiers flirting with the Saxon serving-maids; +German musketeers, professedly on guard, who have left their muskets +standing against the doorposts, in order to cultivate friendly relations +with the scullions removing the dishes. With brimming glasses raised on +high, they jocosely warble Hungarian airs picked up on the spur of the +moment, improvising at the same time an absurdly artless sort of dance, +in which one leg performs aimless aerial gyrations. On the other hand, +the heydukes of the Hungarian bodyguard, dressed in yellow dolmans with +green facings, sit morosely in twos and threes against the wall, not +even condescending to look at the bumpers of wine thrust, from time to +time, into their hands; but gravely tossing it down at a single gulp +into its proper place, returning the empty pocal to the friendly butler, +who has as much as he can do to keep his feet; keeps on offering the +noble fluid to Tom, Dick, and Harry; and finding it easier to go +backwards than forwards, is constantly backing against the head cook as +he passes to and fro, bearing now a sugared almond tart adorned with +flowers on a silver salver, and representing the tower of Babel, now a +large porcelain bowl exhaling the spicy fragrance of hot punch, or a +peacock on a large wooden platter, roasted whole, with his gorgeous +head-dress and splendid tail still upon him. + +The head cook is scarcely able to force his way through the gaping mob +of petitioners assembled here, who must wait till the Prince has dined, +and are regaled in the meantime with wine, roast meats, and pastry, +getting in short everything but what they came for--justice. + +Within the dining-room itself the gentlemen and ladies are by this time +in a merry mood. The meal has already lasted a pretty long time, and is +likely to last a good while longer. + +French gastronomic science seemed to have reserved all her masterpieces +for Kemeny's banquet. Nature's three kingdoms have been laid under +contribution to tickle the human palate. Every extravagant and +extraordinary delicacy invented by Epicureanism, from the days of +Lucullus to the days of Gallic gourmandism, is here in abundance. Here +is to be seen every sort of foreign and domestic wine, in +artistically-carved and gorgeously-coloured Venetian flasks, placed in +huge silver refrigerators; game, large and small, of the rarest kind, on +silver dishes; transparent, rose-coloured, quivering jellies with names +unpronounceable by Hungarian lips; Indian fruits preserved in cane +sugar; _ragouts_ of cocks' combs; enigmatical-looking snails, fit rather +for the eye than for the palate; gigantic lobsters and the rarer kinds +of marine fish fantastically disposed; meats which men who have already +eaten to surfeit can only make believe that they enjoy by a supreme +effort of the imagination; dishes which a true man would only eat by way +of penance; immense pasties made entirely of pikes' livers; large +baskets of rosy swans' eggs, which the guests may boil for amusement in +little silver egg-boilers placed over spirit-lamps in front of them, and +other wonderful dishes innumerable, the purpose of which is not +immediately obvious to ordinary children of men, and everything in such +profusion as would have more than sufficed for six times the number of +guests present. Then too there were there all sorts of spiced drinks to +suit every one's taste, from punch-royal to Polish brandy. Nothing was +forgotten. + +Behind every guest stands a little page, who whisks away his well-filled +plate from him the instant he turns his head, and places before him a +clean one instead. Behind the Prince's chair stands the son of Count +Ladislaus Csaky, who is right proud that a son of his should have the +privilege of filling and refilling the Prince's pocal. + +And the Prince's pocal has to be filled pretty often. Transylvanian +banquets generally ended with a wager on the part of the gentlemen to +drink one another under the table. At such banquets John Kemeny has no +equal. Now too he invites the bolder spirits to take up the usual +challenge. The greater part of the guests, however, decline the +invitation. Only three persons respond to the Prince's challenge. The +first is Wenzinger, the leader of the German mercenaries, a big, +raw-boned man, with a closely-shaven head, bright blue eyes, somewhat +stooping neck, and scarcely visible grey eyebrows. The second is Paul +Beldi, Captain-General of the Szeklers, a grave, handsome, +amiable-looking man with a very high forehead. The wine he has taken +gives a sparkle to his gentle eyes, and his taciturn lips are parted in +a half-smile--drink produces no other effect upon him. He wears a simple +yellow camelot dolman, with a scarlet, silver-embossed girdle round the +waist; his white shirt-collar extends far over his dark-blue kerchief. +His smoothly-combed hair is parted down the middle, brushed behind his +ears, and falls in long locks over his shoulders. The man with delicate +white hands who sits opposite to him, Denis Banfi, Lord-Lieutenant of +Klausenburg, is the third competitor. He is a middle-aged, +broad-shouldered, haughty-looking man, with an air of savage truculence +on his aristocratic face. His thick black beard has never yet been +touched by a razor. His dark, chestnut brown locks lie in spiral rolls +upon his forehead, and flow down over both shoulders in rich crisp +curls. His round face is red by nature, but wine has now made it redder +than ever. His sparkling eyes glance defiantly around. When he addresses +any one he strokes his double chin, screws his neck on one side, and +speaks in a sharp, irritating tone, at the same time throwing back his +haughty head provocatively, and assuming an expression of endless +condescension. His dress consists of a purple dolman with large +enamelled buttons, and over that a short, heavy, white silk tabard +trimmed with swan's-down, the sleeves of which are slit up to the elbows +and garnished with rubies. His golden knightly belt is thrown over his +shoulder with lordly negligence. + +At the head of the table sits John Kemeny himself, with the consorts of +Beldi and Banfi one on each side of him. Kemeny, despite his frequent +intercourse and close relations with the West, still prefers to adopt +the oriental costume. He is characterized by short clipped hair, a long +beard, a grave, dignified face, and a curt, monosyllabic style of +speech. The ruling expression of his face is an unmistakable, fatalistic +indifference to everything about him, an indifference which was ere long +to overwhelm him in so terrible a catastrophe. + +One of the ladies by his side, Banfi's wife, is a delicate, nervous, +gentle being, scarcely twenty years old. Ever since her sixteenth year +she has stood beneath the influence of her violent, imperious husband, +and is now almost as timid as a child. She scarcely ever dares to raise +her eyes, and then only to look at her lord, whom she loves +idolatrously. Her neck and shoulders are covered by a heavy, watered +silk dress, fastened by a row of diamond buttons. Round her neck twines +a gold chain, between each of the large broad links of which sparkles an +emerald. A silk coif set with pearls adorns her head, reaching half-way +down over her forehead, and jealously hiding the blonde locks of the +lovely lady. + +On the other side, between her husband and the Prince, sits Beldi's +wife, still a dazzling beauty. Her complexion ordinarily has the tint of +the white rose, but is now all aglow with the fire of the banquet: her +flushed cheeks seem literally to burn. Her coquettish black eyes roam +hither and thither. A seductive magic lurks in her eyebrows, and when +she lowers her long eyelashes over her burning eyes, how ravishing she +is! Her black locks are held together, not by a coif, but by strings of +pearls artistically intertwined and fastened behind to a little diamond +diadem, from which a long gold filigree veil descends to the ground. Her +dress consists of a tight-fitting, cherry-coloured kirtle of Hungarian +velvet, wide open in front and fastened over her embroidered cambric +smock by strings of pearls. Her snow-white shoulders peep half out of +the short, puffed sleeves, which are fastened in the middle by huge opal +clasps, leaving bare her exquisitely-shaped arms. She wears bracelets of +large oriental pearls, and a pale pink rose is stuck nonchalantly in her +bosom. + +The guests sitting at the far end of the table are plainly scandalized +by the coquettish ways of the siren, who, although she has a +marriageable daughter, still presumes to appear publicly in an open +kirtle; but the Prince, the impetuous Banfi, and even her own dove-like +husband, who worships his wife, appear to be all the more delighted with +her in consequence. + +The drinking wager had already somewhat exhilarated the worthy +gentlemen, so that they began to mingle their songs with the music which +had been playing in the gallery ever since the banquet began, when the +captain of the guard, Gabriel Haller, suddenly rushed into the room with +a very serious face, and hastening to the Prince, whispered a couple of +words in his ear. Kemeny looked first at him and then at the glass he +held in his hand, emptied it with the utmost composure, and then burst +into a loud peal of laughter. + +"Pray tell your tidings to the company, that they may know what is going +on," cried he to Haller, in a loud voice. + +Haller hesitated. + +"Come! Out with it. You could not, if you tried, invent anything half so +entertaining. Stop playing up there, will you! This is something like a +joke." + +The company urged Haller to lose no time in passing the joke on. + +"There is not much to tell," said Haller, shrugging his shoulders. "It +is only that Ali Pasha has proclaimed Michael Apafi Prince of +Transylvania." + +"Ha! ha! ha!" resounded on all sides. The Prince, with comic +affectation, turned first to one and then to the other. + +"Who is the individual? Does any one know him? Has anybody ever heard of +him?" + +Lady Banfi turned pale and clung tightly to her husband's arm, who +leaned his elbow on the table and replied with sublime indifference-- + +"The poor devil is, I believe, a very distant connection of mine. He has +married some relation or other of my wife's. He was for a long time a +slave among the Tartars, and the Turks (being wroth with us just now) +have no doubt only released him on condition that he allows himself to +be made Prince. He must be clean out of his senses." + +At this all the gentlemen laughed still more loudly than before. + +"Well, we'll go and inaugurate him," said Kemeny sarcastically, throwing +back his head. + +"That has already been done, your Highness," put in Haller. + +"Where? By whom?" asked the good-humoured Prince, with arched eyebrows. + +"At Kis-Selyk, by the Diet!" + +Kemeny intimated by a wave of his hand and a contraction of his eyebrows +that this explanation was not quite clear to him. + +"Who then were present? Where were the Estates? All the men of any +importance in the land are here with us." + +"There were Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, Kun, Daczo, and some two hundred +Szeklers." + +"Well, we'll go and count them as soon as we have disposed of our other +affairs," said the Prince contemptuously. "Pray give Master Haller a +chair!" + +"But they are not awaiting us there. They are marching against us. By +this time they must be at Segesvar." + +"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Kemeny. "I suppose, then, Master Michael Apafi +thinks to drive us out of the country with his couple of hundred +Szeklers." + +But now Wenzinger rose from his chair, and remarked with soldierly +precision-- + +"Does your Highness wish me to concentrate the army? We have eight +thousand armed men, and, if it please your Highness, we will disperse +this mob of nondescripts so effectually that not a couple of them shall +remain together." + +"Keep your seat!" commanded Kemeny, who treated the whole affair with +the most sovereign contempt. "Sit down again and drink! Let them come a +little nearer! Why should we inconvenience ourselves by going out +against them? We can then take the whole lot together bag and baggage. I +much regret, my lord Denis Banfi, that this fellow is a kinsman of +yours; but, out of regard for you, I will take care that he is not +broken on the wheel--I will simply have him _stuffed_!" + +Kemeny's witticism was received with uproarious laughter. + +"Give Master Haller a glass. And you up there! go on playing where you +left off." + +And once more the music resounded. The gipsy band now played a +_csardas_.[12] The gentlemen clinked glasses and sang in unison. The +guards outside joined in the song. The glasses flew against the wall. +Every one was ready to dash his glass into a thousand pieces except +Gabriel Haller, who, being the last comer and therefore tolerably +sober, was ashamed to destroy the expensive Venetian crystals so +recklessly. + + [Footnote 12: _Csardas_ [pr. _chardash_]. The national + dance of Hungary. It is danced in 3/4 time by single + couples, who improvise the figures. It commences with a + very slow and stately movement, gradually quickening + into a furious gallop.] + +"Come! down with it! Let the splinters fly!" roared the Prince at him, +and to please his Highness Haller dutifully but gingerly rapped his +glass against the table till it broke off clean at the neck, quite +decently and respectably, whereupon he bowed low to his Highness with +obsequious humility. + +Dame Banfi sighed at the thought of her kinswoman; but Banfi, to show +how very little he cared about the matter, leaped from his chair, and +with the wild music of the _csardas_ ringing in his ears, invited the +lovely Lady Beldi to a dance. + +The merry siren did not require twice bidding. Banfi passed his arm +around her slender waist, pressed her tightly to his breast, and whirled +away with her. The fiery beauty hung with elfin airiness on her +partner's arm. + +Then all the other gentlemen present, carried away by Banfi's example, +also leaped from their seats and whirled away with their fair +neighbours, till the whole company resolved itself into a maze of +fantastically revolving figures, every one dancing, applauding, and +huzzahing to his heart's content. + +Banfi was an impetuous, hot-blooded man who loved pretty women in +general and at all times. Now, moreover, he was heated with wine, and +thus it came about that as his lovely partner was dangling on his arm +and her glowing cheeks came very near to his, he suddenly so far forgot +himself as to press the bewitching dame to his breast and imprint a +burning kiss upon her lips. + +Lady Beldi shrieked aloud, and instantly repulsed the self-forgetful +Lothario. Banfi, much confused, cast a glance around him; but apparently +every one was so taken up with his own amusement, that neither the +shriek nor the kiss had been observed. + +Nevertheless, Lady Beldi, very much offended, left off dancing, and when +Banfi began stammering some sort of an apology, she sharply told him to +be off and leave her. + +Banfi will one day have to pay very dearly for that kiss! + +Nobody had observed it, however, save him whom it most concerned--the +husband. Beldi's eyes had seen it. Oh! you must not imagine that an +uxorious husband is never jealous. Even though he makes as though he +hears and sees nothing, he sees and hears and observes all the same. He +had seen Banfi kiss his wife, although he feigned not to perceive his +consort's confusion as, excited and indignant, she went in search of +him. He took her by the hand and led her out of the room. When they got +outside, he bade her go to her lodgings and dress for a journey. + +"Whither are we going?" asked the agitated lady. + +"Home to Bodola!" + + * * * * * + +Of all the guests, Denis Banfi was the only one who saw them quit the +room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BODOLA. + + +In one of the innermost recesses of the county of Felsoe-Feher, when you +have left behind you the Boza Pass, or avoided it by taking one of the +narrow footpaths which wind along the mountain side, you will come in +sight of the Tatrang valley. + +On every side of you are hills wrapped in lilac-coloured mists, and +behind the hills the heaven-aspiring peak of Kapri, glistening with +early-fallen snow. From the mist-shrouded valley below emerge four or +five villages, with their white houses sending up bluish smoke-wreaths +among the green orchards. The little Tatrang stream winds, silvery blue, +in and out among the quiet villages, forming cascades in its downward +progress, which in the dim distance look like fleecy mists. The clouds +sink so deeply down into the valleys that their golden, veil-like shapes +hide first this and then that object from the eyes of the observer on +the hill-tops. There you can see Hosszufalva, with its far-stretching +street. There, again, the tiny church of Zajzonfalva, whose pointed, +tin-covered roof gleams far and wide in the rays of the sun. Tatrang +lies on the banks of the stream, just where a large wooden bridge has +been thrown across it. Far, very far off, black and misty, are to be +seen the walls of Kronstadt and the blue outlines of the still unscathed +citadel. In the valley just below you is the straggling village of +Bodola. The houses lie low, but the church stands on rising ground, and +opposite the village you notice a sort of small fortress with broad +towers, black bastions, and projecting battlements. The western bastion +is built on a steep rock, whence there is a fall of three hundred feet +on to the roofs of the houses below. + +It is only in the distance, however, that the castle looks so gloomy. On +approaching nearer, you perceive that what had seemed, from afar, to be +a dark green belt of bushes, is really a wreath of flower-gardens thrown +round the ramparts. The large Gothic windows are adorned with handsome +sculptures and stained glass. A well-kept, serpentine path winds up the +steep rock, and there is a mossy stone seat at every bend. Where the +rock is most precipitous a breastwork has been thrown up. The pointed +turrets of the castle are all painted red, and adorned with fantastic +weathercocks. + +The path leading through the Boza Pass to Kronstadt is not more than an +hour's journey from this little castle, and along this path, at the very +time when Prince John Kemeny was still regaling himself at Hermannstadt, +we see a long line of cavalry wending their way into the valley +below--two thousand Turkish horsemen, or thereabouts, distinguishable +from afar by the scarlet tips of their turbans and their snow-white +kaftans. Among them are some hundreds of Wallachian irregulars in brown +gabardines and long black _csalmaks_.[13] + + [Footnote 13: _Csalmak_ [pr. _chalmak_]. A low, skin + turban.] + +The way is so narrow here that the horsemen can only proceed along in +couples, so that while the rearguard is still painfully making its way +through the narrow defile between converging rocks, the vanguard has +already reached Tatrang. + +The Turkish general is a middling-sized, sunburnt man, with eyes as bold +and bellicose as an eagle's. A large scar runs right across his +forehead. His beard curls in little locks around his chin. His moustache +is twisted fiercely upwards on both sides, making one suspect an +excessively fiery temper in its possessor, a suspicion confirmed by his +hard and curt mode of speech, the haughty carriage of his head, and the +impatient movements of his body. + +He halts his little army outside the village, to give the rearmost time +to come up. Last of all roll a few wagons and a large pumpkin-shaped +coach. This is all the heavy baggage which the Turks carry with them. +The rearguard is led by a child whose round, cherub face contrasts +strangely with his glittering scimitar and his grave, commanding look. +He cannot be more than twelve. Inside the coach, the curtains of which +are thrown back on both sides so as to freely admit the evening air, we +perceive a young lady of about five-and-twenty years of age, dressed +half in Turkish, half in Christian costume, for she wears the wide +silken hose and the short blue open kaftan of the Turkish ladies, but +has taken off her turban, and her face, contrary to Turkish custom, is +without a veil. She gazes with the utmost composure out of the carriage +window, bestowing her attention now upon the landscape and now upon the +passing peasants. + +The Turkish commander is marshalling his forces in the village below. +They seem used to the strictest discipline. Every one looks steadily at +his leader without moving a muscle. At the head of the left wing stands +the little boy; a tall, muscular man leads the right. The Wallachs are +drawn up in the rear. + +"My brave fellows,"--the Pasha addresses his troops in a hard, sharp +voice--"you will pitch your tents here! Every one will remain in his +place hard by his saddled horse, without laying aside arms or armour. +Ferhad Aga[14] with twelve men will go into the village and respectfully +ask the magistrate to send hither forty hundredweights of bread, just as +much flesh, and double as much hay and oats, at the average price of +four asper[15] per pound, neither more nor less." + + [Footnote 14: _Aga._ An honorary title among the Turks, + here equivalent to lieutenant.] + + [Footnote 15: _Asper._ A small silver coin worth about + fifteen to twenty kreutzers.] + +Then the Pasha turned towards the Wallachs-- + +"You, dogs! don't suppose that we have come hither to plunder! Stir not +from this spot, for if I find out that so much as a goose has been +stolen from the village, I'll hang up your leaders and decimate the rest +of you!" + +He then selected four horsemen. + +"You will follow me," said he; "the rest remain here. This very night we +resume our march. During my absence Feriz Beg commands." + +The little boy bowed. + +"If Feriz Beg receives orders from me to quit you, you will obey Ferhad +Aga till I return." + +With that the Pasha struck his spurs into his horse's sides, and +galloped with his escort towards Bodola. + +Then the boy whom the Pasha had called Feriz Beg rode forward with +soldierly assurance, and in a deep, sonorous voice gave the order to +dismount. His hard-mouthed Arab plunged, kicked, and reared, but the +little commander, heedless of the capers of his steed, delivered his +further orders with perfect self-possession. + +Meanwhile the Pasha pursued his way towards Bodola Castle. + +Paul Beldi had arrived there only the day before with his wife, having +quitted Kemeny's Court without a word of explanation, and was standing +in the porch at the moment when the Turkish horsemen trotted into the +courtyard. In those days the relations of Transylvania with the Turks +were so peculiar, that visits of this kind might be made at any time +without any previous announcement. + +The Pasha no sooner beheld Beldi, than he sprang from his horse, ran up +the steps to him, and brusquely presented himself--"I am Kucsuk Pasha. +Being in the way, I came to have a word with thee if thou canst listen." + +"Command me," replied Beldi, pointing to the reception-room, and +motioning to his guest to enter first. + +It was a square-built room, the walls of which were painted with +oriental landscapes, the spaces between the windows being filled by +large cut-glass mirrors in steel frames. The marble floor was covered +with large variegated carpets. Round about the walls hung ancestral +pictures, with clusters here and there of ancient weapons of strange +shape and construction. In the middle of the room stood a large green +marble table with fantastically twisted legs. Huge arm-chairs with +morocco coverings and ponderous carvings were dispersed about the room. +Facing the entrance was a door leading to a balcony, commanding a +panorama of the snow-capped mountains. The evening twilight cast red and +lilac patches through the painted windows on the faces of those who are +now entering. + +"How can I serve you?" inquired Beldi of the Pasha. + +"Thou art well aware," replied Kucsuk, "that great discord now prevails +in this country on account of the throne." + +"It does not concern me. I have made up my mind to remain neutral." + +"I have not come hither to beg for thy advice or assistance in that +matter; the sword will decide it. What brings me to thee is a purely +family affair which concerns me deeply." + +Beldi, much surprised, made his guest sit down beside him. + +"Speak," said he. + +"Thou mayest perhaps have heard, that once upon a time a daughter of the +Kallay family fell in love with a young Turkish horseman, naturally +without the consent of her kinsfolk?" + +"Yes, I've heard of it. People say that the young Turk was equally +victorious in love and in war." + +"Possibly. His victories in war, however, have disqualified him from +being the Knight of Love. Thou seest that my face is furrowed with +scars; know that I am the man who wedded that woman!" + +Beldi began to regard the Pasha with curiosity and astonishment. + +"I have continued to love that woman devotedly," pursued the Pasha. +"That may appear strange to thee in the mouth of a Turk, but so it is. I +have had neither wife nor concubine beside her. She has borne me a son, +of whom I am proud. My affairs just now are in such a critical condition +that I must, with God's help, work wonders, or perish on the +battle-field. Thou knowest that the religion of Mahommed highly commends +such a death. I have therefore no anxiety on that score. It is the +thought of my wife which disturbs me. If she should lose me and my son, +she would be in great straits. She would be persecuted in Turkey because +she remained a Christian; she would be persecuted in Transylvania +because she married a Mussulman. There my kinsfolk, here her own, are +her enemies. I come to thee therefore with a petition. I have heard tell +of thee as an honourable man, and of thy wife as a worthy woman. Receive +my consort into thy family circle. She will not be a burden to thee, for +I leave her everything I possess. All she wants is thy protection. If +thou dost promise me that, thou canst count upon my eternal friendship +and gratitude, and mayst command my fortune, my sword, and my life in +case I survive." + +Beldi pressed the hand of the Pasha. + +"Bring your wife hither. I and my family will welcome her as a +kinswoman." + +"I may bring her then?" + +"We shall be delighted to see her," returned Beldi; and he commanded his +retainers to escort the Pasha's suite back to Tatrang with torches, and +fetch from thence his carriage. + +Kucsuk sent word by them that Feriz Beg was to come too. + +Meanwhile Beldi introduced Kucsuk to his wife, and he was not a little +delighted to find that she recollected the Pasha's wife as one of her +girlish friends, whom she looked forward to see again with sincere joy +and some curiosity. + +After the lapse of some hours the carriage rumbled noisily into the +well-paved courtyard. Feriz Beg escorted it on horseback. + +Lady Beldi hastened down the steps to meet the Pasha's wife as she +stepped out of the coach, and received her with a cry of joy--"What! +Catharine! Do you still know me?" + +The lady immediately recognized her youthful playfellow, and the two +friends rushed into each other's arms, kissed again and again, and said +of course the sweetest things to each other--"Why, darling, you are more +handsome than ever!"--"And you, dear! What a stately woman you have +grown!" etc., etc., etc. + +"Look, this is my son," said Catharine, pointing to Feriz Beg, who, +after dismounting, had hastened with childlike tenderness to help his +mother out of her coach. + +"Oh, what a little darling!" cried Lady Beldi, quite enchanted, and +covering the rosy-cheeked child with kisses. + +If only she had known that this child was a child no longer, but a +general! + +"And I've got children too!" continued Lady Beldi, with maternal +emulation. "You shall see them! Does your son speak Hungarian?" + +"Hungarian!" cried Catharine, almost offended; "what! the child of an +Hungarian mother, and not speak Hungarian! How can you ask such a +question?" + +"So much the better," said Lady Beldi, "the children will become friends +all the more quickly. From henceforth you belong to the family. Our +husbands have settled all that already, and we shall be so delighted!" + +The amiable and sprightly housewife then embraced her friend once more, +took Feriz Beg by the hand, and led them both into the family circle, +chatting merrily all the time, and asking and answering a thousand +questions. + +A cheerful fire was sparkling in the chimney of the ladies' cabinet. +Large flowered-silk curtains darkened the walls. On a little ivory table +ticked a gorgeous clock, ablaze with rubies and chrysoprases. Sofas +covered in cornflower-blue velvet offered you a luxurious repose. On a +round table in the centre of the room, from which an embroidered Persian +tapestry fell in rich folds to the ground, stood a heavy candelabrum of +massive silver, representing a siren holding on high a taper in each of +her outstretched hands. + +In front of the fine white marble chimney-piece were Dame Beldi's +children. The elder, Sophia, a tall, slight, bashful-looking beauty of +some fourteen summers, was bustling about the fire. She still wore her +hair as children do, thrown back in two long, large plaits which reached +almost to her heels. This girl was afterwards Paul Wesselenyi's consort. + +The second child, a little girl of about four, was kneeling at the feet +of her elder sister, and throwing dried flowers into the fire. She went +by the name of _Aranka_, which in Hungarian means "little goldy," for +she carried her name on her locks, which flowed over her round little +shoulders in light golden waves. Her vivacious features, sparkling eyes, +and tiny hands are never still, and now too she is mischievously teasing +and thwarting her elder sister, laughing aloud with artless glee +whenever Sophia, naturally without succeeding in the least, tries to be +very angry. + +On hearing footsteps and voices at the door, both children spring up +hastily. The elder one, perceiving strangers, tries to smooth the +creases out of her dress, while Aranka rushes uproariously to her +mother, embraces her knees, and looks up at her with her plump little +smiling face. + +"These are my children," said Lady Beldi with inward satisfaction. + +Catharine embraced the elder girl, who shyly presented her forehead to +be kissed. + +"And here's your cousin, little Feriz. You must kiss him too!" said Lady +Beldi, pushing together the bashful children, who scarcely dared to +press the tips of their lips together. Sophia immediately afterwards +blushed right up to the ears, and rushed out of the room. Nothing would +induce her to show herself again that evening. + +"Oh, you shamefaced mimosa!" cried Lady Beldi, laughing loudly. "Why, +Aranka is braver than you. Eh, my little girl? You're not afraid to kiss +Cousin Feriz, are you?" + +The little thing looked up at the boy and drew back, clinging fast all +the time to her mother's skirts, but never once removing her large, +dark-blue eyes from Feriz, who knelt down, took the little girl in his +arms, and gave her a hearty kiss on her round, rosy cheeks. + +Having gone safely through this ordeal, Aranka was quite at home with +her new acquaintance. She bade the Turkish cousin sit him down on a +stool by the fire, and, laying her head on his lap, began asking him +questions about everything he wore, from the hilt of his scimitar to the +plume in his turban--absolutely nothing escaped her curiosity. + +"Let the children play!" cried Lady Beldi merrily, as with high +good-humour she led her friend out upon the balcony, from whence they +could survey the whole Tatrang valley now floating in the bright +moonlight. + +Here the two women--while the men were engaged with serious matters, and +the children were playing--here the two women entered into one of those +long confidential chats which young ladies find so charming when they +are by themselves, especially when they have as much to ask and answer +as these two had. + +Kucsuk Pasha's wife was a middling-sized, powerfully-built woman. Her +well-rounded bosom and broad shoulders were shown off by her +tight-fitting kaftan, which was fastened round the waist by a girdle of +gold thread, and reached somewhat lower down than is usual with the +dresses of Turkish ladies, just permitting a glance at her wide, +flowing, red silk pantaloons and her dainty little yellow slippers. Her +face, if a trifle too stern and hard, was yet most lovely; her full and +florid complexion betokened a somewhat choleric temperament; her thick, +coal-black eyebrows had almost grown together, and her gaze was burning +in its intensity. + +Lady Beldi made her sit down by her side, took her familiarly by the +hand, and playfully asked-- + +"Your husband then has no other wife but you?" + +Catharine laughed, and replied with just a shade of impatience-- + +"I suppose, now, you fancy that an Hungarian woman has only to wed a +Turk to instantly become his slave? You have no idea how dearly my +husband loves me." + +"I am sure of it, Catharine. But recollect that my question related to +what has long been customary among you." + +"Among us! My dear, I am not a Turkish woman!" + +"What then?" + +"A Christian, just as you are. We were married by a Calvinist minister, +the Rev. Martin Biro, now an exile in Constantinople, and for whom my +husband, out of gratitude, has built a church where the Hungarians and +Transylvanians who dwell there may attend divine service." + +"Really! Then your husband does not persecute the Christians?" + +"Certainly not. He believes that every religion is good, as leading to +heaven, but that his own faith is the best, as opening the gate of the +very highest heaven. Moreover, my husband has a very good heart, and is +much more enlightened than most of his fellows." + +"But why have you not tried to convert him to the Christian religion?" + +"Why should I? Because our poets regularly conclude their love-romances +in which a Turk falls in love with a Christian girl, by bringing him to +baptism and dressing him in a mente instead of a kaftan? Here, however, +you have one of those romances of real life, in which a woman follows +her spouse and sacrifices everything for him." + +"No doubt you are right, Catharine; but you must let me get used to the +idea that a Christian, let alone an Hungarian, girl may wed a Turk." + +"And listen, dear Lady Beldi: surely God would have imputed less merit +to me, if I had converted my husband to our faith, instead of leaving +him in the faith wherein he was born? As a Christian renegade he would +have occupied but a humble place in our little church; while as one of +the most influential of the Pashas, he has made the fate of all the +Christians in Turkey so tolerable, that the Christian subjects of other +states flock over to us as to a land of promise. Often, when he has +received his share of the spoils of battle, he has handed me a long list +with the names of those of my enslaved countrymen whom he has ransomed +at a great price. He has expended immense treasures in this way. And +believe me, love, the perusal of such a list gives me more pleasure than +the sight of the most beautiful oriental pearls which my husband might +easily have purchased with the amount, and it has raised him higher in +my estimation than if he had learnt the whole Psalter by heart. And he +is not the man to break the word he has once given, whether it be to God +or to his fellow-man. If he were capable of abjuring his religion, I +could believe no longer in his love, for then he would cease to be him +whom I have always known; he would cease to be the man who, when once he +has said a thing, always abides by it, never goes back from, and is to +be moved neither by the terrors of death nor the tears of a woman." + +Lady Beldi embraced her friend, and kissed her glowing cheeks. + +"You are right, my good Catharine! 'Tis our prejudices that prevent us +from rising higher than everyday thoughts. It is true. Love also has her +faith, her religion. But how about your country? Have you never thought +of that?" + +Catharine rose with proud self-satisfaction from her seat, and pressed +her friend's hand. + +"Let this convince you that I indeed love my country. I am about to +sacrifice for it the lives of my husband and my son, whom perhaps I now +behold for the last time." + +Lady Beldi's face plainly showed that she did not quite grasp the +meaning of these words, and Catharine was about to explain them to her, +when a servant announced that the gentlemen had long been awaiting them +in the dining-room. + +Lady Beldi thereupon gave her arm to her friend and led her into the +dining-room. The children had already become such close friends that +Aranka allowed Feriz Beg to carry her in to dinner, playing all the time +with childish coquetry with the diamond clasp of his agraffe. + +The lady of the house assigned to every one his place. Catharine took +the upper end of the table. On her right sat the Pasha, on her left the +hostess. The host took his place at the lower end of the table. Feriz +and Aranka sat side by side. Opposite Feriz was an empty place, the shy +Sophia's, whom nothing could induce to come to dinner. + +Catharine seeing that a large wine-jug was placed in front of her +husband, quickly seized it in order to exchange it for a cut-glass +caraffe full of pure, sparkling spring water. Lady Beldi remarked the +action, and glanced mischievously at her embarrassed friend. + +"He never drinks wine," said Catharine apologetically. "It is not good +for him. He is of a somewhat excitable nature." + +Kucsuk smiled and lifted Catharine's hand to his lips. + +"Why gloss over the truth? Why not say straight out that I do not drink +wine because the Koran forbids it, because I am a Mussulman?" + +Beldi shook his head at his wife and pointed at the children in order to +give another turn to the conversation. + +"It looks as if your son were already quite at home with us, Kucsuk. You +shall see, when you come back, what a Magyar we have made of him." + +Kucsuk and Feriz exchanged a proud and rapid glance, and then both of +them looked at Beldi. + +The child's features had suddenly and completely changed; at that moment +he looked wondrously like his father. There was the same hard, stony +glance, the same defiant bearing, the same haughty elevation of the +brows. + +"So thou dost imagine, Beldi," said Kucsuk severely, "that I only +brought my son hither to leave him with thee?" + +"But surely you do not mean to take that child with you to battle?" + +"Child dost thou call him! He is already the commander of four hundred +mounted Spahis; has already been in three engagements; has had two +horses shot under him, and is to command the left wing of my forces in +the impending battle." + +The Beldis looked with amazement at the child, who, with all eyes fixed +upon him, assumed his most manly air. + +"But I hope that you will at least keep him by your side in the heat of +the fight?" said Lady Beldi, much disturbed. + +"Not at all. I lead the centre. He too will give a good account of +himself. When I was his age I already wore the Nishan[16] order on my +breast, and I hope that this time he will not return home without having +at least deserved it." + + [Footnote 16: _Nishan Order._ A Turkish order of merit + for valour, instituted by Selim III. It consisted of a + gold medallion bearing the Sultan's effigy.] + +"But if it comes to a _melee_, and he is in danger?" continued Lady +Beldi, with increasing apprehension. + +"Then he will fight as a brave soldier should," returned Kucsuk, +stroking his moustache, which immediately twisted upwards of its own +accord. + +"Ah, no; he is far too tender to sustain a conflict with grown men!" +cried Dame Beldi compassionately. + +"Feriz," cried Kucsuk to his son, "just take down that sabre from the +wall, and show our friends that thou canst wield it like a man." + +The boy sprang up, and, proudly confident in his own strength, chose +from the weapons that hung on the wall not a sabre but a huge +club--seized it by the extreme end of the handle, and swung it with +outstretched arms in every direction with an ease and a dexterity which +would have done honour to any man. His feat was rewarded by enthusiastic +applause. + +"Deuce take it!" cried the astonished Beldi; "that is what I call a good +graft, a Magyar scion on a Turkish stock. You did not carry off his +mother for nothing. Come, Kucsuk--give me that lad!" + +"Be it so! But give me thy daughter." + +"Which? Make your choice." + +"She who sits next to him. When she has grown up they will make a good +pair, and then we shall both have a son and a daughter." + +Beldi laughed heartily, and both the women exchanged a smile. Kucsuk +looked with an air of satisfaction at his son, who took his aigrette +from his turban, tore off the diamond buckle which had pleased Aranka so +much, and handed it to the little girl with lavish gallantry. The child +timidly stretched out her tiny hand towards the costly gift, the +material as well as the moral worth of which she was far from +suspecting, but which nothing in the world would now have made her +relinquish. + +The parents suddenly became silent. Their faces still wore a smile, but +there was a melancholy earnestness in their eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BATTLE OF NAGY SZOeLLOeS. + + +Meanwhile Michael Apafi, comforted by Ali Pasha's assurance that help +was nigh at hand, had thrown himself into Segesvar, and there awaited +the turn of Fortune's wheel. John Kemeny came out against him with a +vast host. He had with him an imposing array of German and Hungarian +troops, but what his army really wanted was an enterprising general. + +Michael Apafi had very little to oppose to such a host--a few hundred +stubborn, undisciplinable Szekler spearmen, a handful of Saxon burghers, +and a bodyguard of blue Janissaries, altogether only about a tenth part +of Kemeny's army. + +Acting therefore on the advice of his brother Stephen, the Prince +resolved to remain strictly on the defensive at Segesvar till +auxiliaries should reach him from his Turkish protector. This resolution +pleased the Saxon burghers immensely, for they were well able to defend +themselves behind the walls of their own city, but never felt quite at +ease in the open field. Upon the Szeklers, however, Apafi's resolution +produced just the contrary effect. + +It was Nalaczi's mission to keep the Szeklers in a martial humour, and +one evening he took them all into the tavern, and filled them with such +ardour that at break of day they marched clamorously beneath the windows +of the Prince, and swore by hook and by crook that they must have one of +the city gates opened for them at once, so that they might fall upon +Kemeny there and then and fight him to the death. + +The Prince and his counsellors went down among them in great alarm, and +tried in every way to make it clear to them that Kemeny's suite alone +was more numerous than all the Szeklers put together; that at least +one-half of his army was armed with muskets, whereas with them scarcely +any one except the Saxon burghers knew even how to use fire-arms; and +that if they rushed out at one door, the enemy would rush in at the +other, and then there would be neither outside nor inside--and much more +to the same effect. + +But whoever fancies he can drive out of a Szekler's head what he has +once got into it is mightily mistaken. + +"Either you must let us march against the foe or home we go!" cried +they. "We don't mean to lie here for the next ten years like the +Trojans, for there's work to be done at home. Apportion, therefore, so +many of the enemy to each one of us; let every man go out and slay his +lot, and then in God's name dismiss us. We won't submit to be blockaded +and rationed on dog and rat-flesh." + +"My good fellows, if you don't like stopping here, go home by all +means," was Apafi's ultimatum; "but to fight a battle in my +circumstances were mere madness." + +The Szeklers did not waste another word; but they seized their wallets, +shouldered their lances, and marched out of Segesvar as if they never +had had anything to do with it. + +From that moment the Szeklers became Apafi's enemies to his dying day. + +Next day Kemeny's host stood beneath the walls of the town where Apafi +now barely had armed men sufficient to guard the gates. + +The siege operations were entrusted to Wenzinger as having had most +experience in warfare. This great general, true to the principles of the +school in which he had been brought up, first of all carefully surveyed +every inch of his ground; then he cautiously occupied every position +which by any possibility might become important, and took care also that +the besieging host should be covered at all points--in short, he so spun +out his preparations by his systematic way of going to work, that by the +time he had really begun to think about the siege, tidings reached him +that the Turkish auxiliaries were advancing by forced marches. Thereupon +(still faithful to his system) he re-concentrated his scattered forces, +and prepared to march against the Turks, the Hungarian gentry being +ready to a man to follow him. But John Kemeny was against a general +advance, holding that if the Turkish contingent was strong enough to put +his forces to flight, he would have Segesvar in his rear, and thus would +be caught between two fires. He therefore preferred to await his +opponent's attack, and retiring in consequence from the town, pitched +his camp at Nagy Szoelloes, whence he looked calmly on while Kucsuk +Pasha's horsemen, amid the bray of clarions, made their entry into +Segesvar. + +Apafi had eaten and drunk nothing for three days from sheer anxiety at +the straits into which he had fallen, through no fault of his own, when +word was brought him of the arrival of the auxiliaries. It was late in +the evening when Kucsuk Pasha, after a fatiguing march along +unfrequented mountain paths, entered the town. Apafi rode out to meet +him, and saluted the Turks as his guardian angels. But great indeed was +his astonishment, after mustering the troops twice or thrice, to find +that at the very highest estimate they were only a fifth part of the +forces opposed to him. + +"What does your Excellency mean to do with this little band?" he +uneasily asked the Pasha. + +"God alone knows, who reads the destiny of man in heaven above," +returned Kucsuk with laconic fatalism; and that was all that the Prince +could get out of him. That night the Turks pitched their tents in the +market-place, immediately opposite the dwelling of the Prince. + +Apafi, after so many sleepless nights, could at last enjoy repose. It +did his heart good to hear beneath his windows the snorting of the +war-horses and the sabre-clattering of the sentries, and he gradually +dozed off in the midst of the comforting hubbub, reflecting, that with +such an army he could at least defend himself for some time, and that +meanwhile a great many things might happen. Long before daybreak, +however, he was awakened by the hammering of planks, the usual signal to +the Turkish cavalry to feed their horses. "They feed their horses very +early in the morning," thought the Prince, and he turned over on to the +other side and again fell asleep. While still half-dreaming he fancied +he heard the songs of the dervishes, songs apt to make even the wakeful +feel drowsy. Then a loud and sudden flourish of trumpets once more +aroused his Highness from his slumbers. "Egad! What are they about in +the middle of the night?" cried he peevishly; got up, looked out of the +window, and saw that the Turks were all sitting motionless on their +horses in the dark. Then came a second flourish, and the whole squadron +started off, the clattering of the horses' hoofs on the paving-stones +and the watch-words of the sentinels resounding far and wide through +the silent night. "This Pasha is a very restless man," thought Apafi. +"Even at night, and after so many fatigues, he grudges his men their +proper repose." And with that he again turned in, and fell into a yet +sweeter sleep, from which he only awoke on the following morning. + +The sun stood high in the heavens when Apafi rang for his steward and +factotum, John Cserey. + +The first question he put to him was, "What is the Pasha about?" + +"He quitted the town last night, and sent back a messenger, who has been +waiting outside there ever since dawn to deliver his message." + +"Let him come in at once," cried Apafi, and he began hastily to dress. + +Stephen Apafi, Nalaczi, and Daczo entered the Prince's apartments at the +same time as Kucsuk's messenger. They too had been waiting for the last +two hours for the Prince to awake, and were very curious to hear the +Pasha's message. + +"Speak quickly!" cried Apafi to the Turk, who bowed to the ground, +folded his arms across his breast, and said-- + +"Illustrious Prince! my master, Kucsuk Pasha, speaks these words to thee +through the mouth of thy servant: Remain quietly in Segesvar and be of +good cheer. Let the troops that are with thee mount guard upon the +walls. Meantime my master, Kucsuk Pasha, is marching against John +Kemeny, and will fight him wherever he meets him, yea! though he lose +his host to a man, yet will he fight with him to the death." + +The Prince was so confounded by these tidings that he had not a word to +say for himself. Kucsuk's forces were scarcely a fifth part of Kemeny's, +and, moreover, they were still exhausted by their forced marches. To +expect a victory under such circumstances was to look for miracles. + +"Let us make up our minds for the worst and trust in God," said Stephen +Apafi; and, under the circumstances, this was perhaps the most sensible +thing that could have been said. + +So Michael Apafi let things take their own course. If any one had a mind +to guard the walls he was free to do so. So the commanders left the +soldiers to their own devices, and the soldiers did nothing at all. The +fate of the realm lay in God's hands in the fullest sense of the word, +for man had withdrawn his hand from it altogether. One thing, however, +the Prince did. He sent old Cserey up to the top of the church tower +that he might keep a good look-out, and come and tell his master the +moment he saw troops approaching. + + * * * * * + +John Kemeny had established himself at Nagy Szoelloes, which is a few +hours' journey from Segesvar. He had fixed his head-quarters at the +parsonage there, and to this day the little room is pointed out in which +he slept for the last time, as well as the round hillock in the garden, +where stood at that time a pretty little wooden summer-house in which +the Prince began the dinner which he never finished. + +The Hungarian gentlemen had a long debate with Wenzinger and the Prince +about the plan of campaign. Some were for taking the town by storm, +others preferred starving it out by a blockade. + +Wenzinger shook his head. + +"Allow me, gentlemen, to express my opinion also," said the experienced +German. "I am an old soldier. I have knocked about in all manner of +campaigns; I know the value of numbers in war, but also the value of +position, and well understand how to weigh the one against the other. I +have learnt by experience that one hundred men under favourable +conditions are often more than a match for a thousand. I also know how +enthusiasm or indifference can multiply or diminish numbers. I can also +calculate the relative importance of the various kinds of arms; nor is +the military value of patriotism an unknown quantity to me. Now we have +ten thousand men, and there are not more than three thousand opposed to +us. But we must not lose sight of the fact, that the greater part of our +Hungarian forces consists of cavalry, and to storm walls with cavalry is +clearly impossible. Scarcely less impossible is it to persuade the +mounted Hungarians to fight on foot. I would further remark, that +although the Hungarian is a veritable hero when he stands face to face +with a foreign foe, nevertheless, whenever I have seen him called upon +to fight against his own countrymen (and often enough have I had that +opportunity) he becomes as slothful and indifferent as if he were only +awaiting the first pretext for taking to his heels. Then, again, we +possess a troop of Servians, whom I consider very good shots, and if we +only had them safely behind the walls of that town we might buckle to it +against a ten-fold superiority; but outside fortifications these people +are scarcely worth anything: they are strong enough to defend, but not +strong enough to storm a bastion. We ought therefore to demolish the +walls as soon as possible: but then, again, we have no cannon, and would +have to send as far as Temesvar for our field-artillery, and while they +were on their way to us along the vile roads--and of course it is a +further question whether the commandant there would send them at all at +our bidding--Ali Pasha would have time to return with fresh troops, and +we should lose all our labour. I consider, therefore, that we ought not +to remain here any longer. We are incapable of conquering that fortress +either by assault or blockade. We cannot, on the other hand, suppose +that the enemy would be insane enough to be lured into the open field. +The most prudent thing, therefore, that we can do under such +circumstances, is to set out for Hungary without delay, collect +reinforcements and artillery, and then endeavour to force the enemy to +an engagement." + +Kemeny, little accustomed to listen to such lengthy discourses, could +scarcely wait till Wenzinger paused, and, as if the whole plan of +campaign deserved not the slightest thought, he now interrupted him with +frivolous impatience. + +"Mr. General, leave all that till the afternoon. After dinner we shall +see everything in quite another light." + +"No, not after dinner," blustered the German. "No time is to be lost. We +are in the midst of war, where every hour is precious; not at a Diet, +where matters may be debated for years together." + +At this sally the Hungarian gentlemen laughed heartily, seized Wenzinger +by the arm, and dragged him off to the banquet, joking all the way. +"There will be lots of time after dinner!" cried they. + +"Well, well," said Wenzinger, half in jest and half in anger; "it is a +fine thing, no doubt, to have soldiers who will do everything but obey +your orders!" + +Not another word did he speak at table, but he drank all the more. + +In the midst of these table-joys, John Uzdi, the commander of the +skirmishers, stepped into the Prince's pavilion with a terrified +countenance, and scarce able to speak for excitement. + +"Your Highness! I see great clouds of dust approaching from the +direction of Segesvar!" + +The Prince turned his head towards the messenger, and said with comic +phlegm-- + +"If it gives you any satisfaction to stare at your clouds of dust, pray +go on looking at them as long as you please!" + +But Wenzinger sprang from his seat. + +"I should like to have a look at them myself," cried he, hastily +ordering his heavy charger to be saddled; "possibly the enemy has come +out to entice us nearer." + +The others did not trouble themselves about the matter, but continued to +make merry. + +In a few minutes, however, back came Wenzinger, unable to conceal the +secret joy which a professional soldier always feels when his plan is +about to succeed. + +"Victory, gentlemen!" cried he. "The enemy is marching against us in +force. If it is not merely a diversion, and he really means business, +the day is ours." + +Some of the gentlemen at once rose from their seats and began buckling +on their swords. The Prince, however, remained sitting. + +"Are they still a good way off?" he indolently inquired of Wenzinger. + +"Scarcely half-an-hour's march!" exclaimed the latter with sparkling +eyes. + +"Then let them come a little nearer still, and in the meantime sit down +by our side." + +"I'll be damned if I do!" cried the general angrily. "As it is, I have +scarcely time enough to marshal my forces." + +"But why marshal them at all? Let them advance upon the enemy _en +masse_, that he may be terrified out of his life at the bare sight of +them." + +"Yes, but I don't want to scare them away, I want rather to surround +them. I shall confront them with one-half the host, the rest I shall +distribute as follows: one division shall creep through the maize-fields +and cut off the enemy's retreat to the town; another shall attack him in +flank from above the mill-dam; a third shall remain behind in reserve. +Your Highness will join the reserve with your Court." + +"What!" cried Kemeny, deeply offended, "I in the reserve! The proper +place for an Hungarian Prince is always the fore-front of the battle!" + +"That was all very well formerly; but in a general engagement, such +precious personages require constant looking after, lest any accident +befall them, and are only in the commander's way, and seriously +interfere with his tactics. If, however, your Highness expressly desires +it, I will surrender my baton to you at once, and take my place in the +ranks. Here there is only room for one generalissimo!" + +"Keep your place and take what measures you please, but pray let me +choose my own position. That need not interfere with you in the least." + +And Kemeny, with a few other gentlemen, remained at table. + +Wenzinger had scarcely made the necessary preparations when word was +brought to the Prince that the army was in battle array. Then Kemeny +stood up with imperturbable _sangfroid_ and buckled on his sword, but +refused to wear armour. + +"Why should I?" cried he. "Do you suppose that the heart beats more +courageously behind a coat of mail?" + +So they brought him his most stately charger, whose restive head two +stalwart grooms could only hold with difficulty. The coal-black, +fiery-eyed steed plunged and reared; its nostrils snorted steam; white +frothy flakes fell from its mouth all over its breast; its long waving +tail reached almost to the ground. + +Kemeny swung himself into the saddle, drew his sword, and galloped to +the front. Every one was amazed at his skilful horsemanship; he seemed +to have been grafted on to his stallion, so perfectly did all his +movements correspond with its gambols. On reaching the front, the +stately charger fell into a mincing pace, sharply striking the ground +behind it with its prancing hoofs, and nodding its head as if saluting +the host, which broke with one accord into a loud shout of "Eljen!" At +the same instant the Prince's horse stumbled and plunged violently +forward on both knees at once. The silver bit in its mouth snapped in +two, and it was only his extraordinary skill and dexterity which saved +the Prince from flying headlong. + +His suite came hastening to his side. + +"That is a bad omen, your Highness!" stammered Alexius Bethlen. "Your +Highness should mount another horse." + +"'Tis not a bad omen," replied Kemeny, "for my horse has not thrown me." + +"Nevertheless, your Highness, it would be well to change your mount. +That horse is frightened, and will do nothing but rear." + +"I mean to keep my seat, if only to show that omens have neither meaning +nor terror for me," said Kemeny defiantly; and he ordered the broken bit +to be replaced by another. At the same instant Kucsuk Pasha's trumpets +sounded a charge. + + * * * * * + +The Turkish cavalry formed a half-moon with the horns turned outwards. +Kucsuk himself rode in the centre. + +The Pasha on this occasion wore an unusually splendid costume. His +kaftan was of rich-flowered silk wrought with gold; beneath the kaftan +peeped forth a dolman of cloth of gold; a costly oriental shawl +encircled his loins; his scimitar, buckled on behind, sparkled with +gems; a ger-falcon's plume, fastened by a diamond agraffe, waved from +his turban. His charger, a fiery barb with slender head, long, twisted +mane, and black flying tail, threw back its head proudly and shook its +richly-fringed saddle-cloth. A sort of gold netting surrounded its whole +body, from the fringes of which depended numbers of large, jingling, +golden half-moons. + +As soon as Kucsuk Pasha perceived Kemeny's troops, he dismounted, threw +himself with his face to the ground, thrice kissed the earth, thrice +raised himself on his knees, uplifted his face devoutly to heaven, and +called upon the name of Allah. Then he remounted his horse; sent for his +son; tore one of the falcon feathers out of his turban, and sticking it +in the youthful hero's, said--"Go now to the left wing of the host, and +fight as becomes a man of valour! For 'tis better that thou shouldst +fall by the hand of the enemy, and lie dead before me, than that thou +shouldst fly, and this my sword" (here he smote the scimitar by his side +with his fist) "should slay thee!" + +Feriz Beg reverentially bowed his head, kissed the hem of his father's +kaftan, and proudly galloped to the post assigned to him, feeling that +every eye was fixed upon the falcon's feather which his father had +fastened to his turban. + +The Pasha now rode along the ranks and addressed these words to his +cavalry-- + +"My brave fellows! the enemy is before you! I say not whether they be +many or few--you can see for yourselves. They are indeed many times more +numerous than we; but trust in Allah, and fight valiantly! It is more +honourable to die here sword in hand than to fly like cowards. We are in +the midst of Transylvania. He who flies will fall by the sword of the +pursuer ere he reaches the frontier, and he who escapes the pursuer will +fall by the bowstring of the Padishah. We have no other choice but +victory or death!" + +Then he turned to the Wallachs. Them he addressed with harsh and +wrathful words. + +"You dogs, you! I know right well that you are ready to bolt at the +first shot; but know that I have ordered the troops behind you to +instantly cut every one of you down who so much as looks backward." Then +the Pasha, placing himself at the head of his host, waved his naked +sword for the trumpets to blow, and glancing once more along the lines, +saw the Moorish troops who stood behind him, with melon-shaped, +copper-plated helmets, making ready to fire their long muskets. + +"What are you doing?" growled the Pasha. "Away with your muskets! The +enemy has more of them than we. We shall only need our swords. Let every +one charge boldly upon the foe, ducking his head down over his +saddle-bow the moment I give the signal, and then gallop forward without +hesitation!" + +The host did as it was commanded. The Moors slung their funnel-shaped +muskets over their shoulders, drew their broad scimitars, and trotted +forward in the footsteps of the Pasha. + +Kemeny's troops, like a wall of steel confronted them, the musketeers in +the first line, the lanzknechts behind. In the centre stood Wenzinger, +on the right wing John Kemeny. The flanking troops were creeping +stealthily on behind the mill-dam and among the maize-fields in order to +take the foe in the rear. + +When the Turkish army had come within gunshot distance of Kemeny's +forces, Kucsuk Pasha suddenly turned round and glanced fiercely back, +right and left, upon his soldiers, who immediately ducked their heads +over their horses' necks, tightly grasped their swords, used their spurs +freely, and dashed like a whirlwind upon their opponents. + +"Allah! Allah! il-Allah!" thrice sounded from the lips of the charging +Turks, and simultaneously John Kemeny's musketeers gave the attacking +horsemen a point-blank enfilade, which for a moment enveloped their +ranks in smoke. But in those days musketry fire did little harm; it was +far more noisy than dangerous. So now too only a couple of Turks or so +glided out of their saddles, dragging their horses down with them; the +rest galloped forward with a howl of fury. + +Wenzinger, perceiving that his arquebusiers had no time to load again, +immediately ordered his lanzknechts to advance. Now if these troops +could only have kept back the Turkish cavalry till the arquebusiers had +managed to reload, or till the flanking squadrons had come up and fallen +upon the enemy, Kemeny would no doubt have won the battle. But the ranks +of the lanzknechts collapsed at the very first onset, and after (to do +them justice) a really desperate resistance, were mostly cut to pieces, +whereupon the helpless musketeers took to their heels _en masse_, and +threw their whole army into great confusion. + +Wenzinger now tried to restore order by commanding the whole line to +fall back, and had his command been properly obeyed, the engagement +might perhaps have had a different issue. But the cavalry, which the +Prince led in person, obeying his proud counter-orders to remain where +they were, were left fighting single-handed against the divisions +opposed to them, when the rest of the army had already changed its +position. + +The Pasha immediately left off pursuing the panic-stricken musketeers +and fell with all his might upon Kemeny, who, attacked simultaneously in +front and in flank, altogether lost his head; and as there was neither +time nor space for an orderly retreat, wildly cut his way through the +first opening which presented itself, not perceiving in his confusion +that he was riding down his own retreating infantry, for the cavalry, +galloping frantically into the newly-formed ranks, trod their own people +under-foot, frustrated the last hope of forming a reserve, and threw the +whole army into hopeless disorder. The infantry threw down their arms +and fled in all directions before their own and the enemy's cavalry, +which followed, helter-skelter, on each other's heels, trampling to +death all who came in their way. Neither the skill of the general nor +the self-sacrifice of a handful of heroes was able to restore the +battle. The wild flight of one part of the army had demoralized the +other. The battle was irretrievably lost. + +Amidst the general rout the Prince also found himself a fugitive. As he +had stood in the fore-front of the battle during the fight, he naturally +found himself now among the hindmost in the flight, and could scarcely +escape from his pursuers for the press in front. The Turks were +everywhere on the heels of the fugitives, and mercilessly cut down all +whom they could reach. A Turkish youth was following the Prince like his +shadow, and as the boy's steed had very much less to carry, speedily +came up with him. The falcon feather in his turban enables us to +recognize Feriz Beg, Kucsuk Pasha's son. + +The face of the youthful hero glowed with excitement, but the face of +the Prince was dark with rage and shame. He frequently looked behind him +and gnashed his teeth. "To fly perforce before a child! Shame, oh, +shame!" Again and again he tried to stop, but his frenzied steed tore +him along with it. + +Meanwhile the youngster had come near enough to reach him with his +scimitar. At first the Prince disdained to defend himself against his +puny foe; but the latter, becoming more and more audacious in his +attacks, he at last drew his sword and parried his blows. + +"Avaunt, you little bastard!" cried Kemeny, foaming with rage, "for if I +do turn round, I'll deal you a blow that will knock all your baby teeth +down your throat." + +But now a bound of his horse brought Feriz alongside of the Prince, and +regarding Kemeny with flashing eyes, he aimed a blow at his neck with +his supple Damascus blade; while Kemeny, with a lowering countenance, +seized his sword with both hands, and dealt a tremendous backward blow +with all his might which was meant to cut his presumptuous young +assailant in two. It was as though a young eagle had brought a flying +panther to bay, and forced him to a life-and-death struggle. At the +moment when both swords sped hissing through the air, Kemeny's horse +again stumbled and fell forward with a broken foot, causing Kemeny's +blow to fall wide, and strike not Feriz but Feriz' horse's head, which +it clove in twain, while Feriz' blow flashed down upon the Prince's +forehead. + +The Prince as he sank from his horse looked darkly up into the face of +his youthful opponent. The blood flowed in streams from his frowning +forehead. Once more he gave his horse the spur, but the maimed beast +only reared on its hind legs, fell over with its sinking rider, and both +were instantly trampled under-foot by the enemy's cavalry. + +In the wild rout no one noticed the spot where the Prince had fallen. It +was only after many days that his torn and tattered mantle and his +broken sword were offered for sale in the market-place of Segesvar by +Turkish hucksters, purchased by Michael Apafi, now sole Prince of +Transylvania, and subsequently preserved in his museum at Fogaros. Apafi +also ordered search to be made on the battle-field for the corpse of +the fallen Prince in order to give it decent and honourable burial, but +no one could recognize his body among the naked and mutilated slain. + + * * * * * + +The battle won, Kucsuk by a flourish of trumpets recalled his squadrons +from pursuing the beaten foe. The Turkish horsemen came galloping back +at once, quite contrary to the usual practice of Turkish armies, which +are generally as much demoralized after a victory as the vanquished +themselves. Kucsuk had inured them to the strictest discipline. + +Back they came, black with smoke and red with blood, but the bloodiest +of all was Feriz Beg. His mantle was riddled with bullets, and the horse +he rode was the third that he had mounted since the action began, two +had already been killed under him. + +Kucsuk, without a word, embraced his son, kissed him on the forehead, +fastened his own Nishan Order on his breast, and exchanged swords with +him, then the highest conceivable distinction. + +Ferhad Aga, the leader of the right wing, was brought dead, on a litter +of lances, before the general. His body bore wounds of every shape and +size; he was literally covered with gunshot wounds, sabre-cuts, and +lance-thrusts. + +Kucsuk sprang from his horse, bent weeping over the corpse, covered it +with kisses, and swore by Allah that he would not have given this man's +life for the whole of Transylvania. + +Nor would he enter the town till Ferhad had been buried. The dervishes +immediately surrounded the dead man, washed him, wrapped him in fragrant +linen, and the Pasha himself sought out for him a sunny spot in the +midst of a little grove. There they buried him with his face turned +towards the east, and with a pennant fluttering on a lance's head over +his grassy grave. And for three days sentinels watched over him, to +prevent the accursed Jins from mutilating the corpse of the dead hero. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE PRINCESS. + + +After the fatal day of Nagy Szoelloes, the faithful followers of John +Kemeny fled to Hungary, and transferred their allegiance to Simon +Kemeny, the son of the fallen Prince. But a sinking cause has few +friends, and while the younger Kemeny's party rapidly diminished, +Apafi's as rapidly increased. His victory had assured his position, and +won for him all the great men of the land--the governors of the towns, +the magnates, the commandants of the fortresses--in short, it was a race +who should do him homage first, all the Estates of the Realm recognized +him as Prince. + +Only a few fortresses, where Kemeny had placed German garrisons, still +held out, Klausenburg among the number. + +Kucsuk Pasha, whose army meanwhile had been reinforced, brought Apafi +beneath the walls of that city, and pitched his tent at Hidelve over +against the old town, then a mere heap of straw huts, and there the new +Prince held his first reception. + +The morning had scarcely dawned when Apafi's tent was besieged by a host +of visitors, petitioners, and liegemen. The Prince, enchanted at the +delightful novelty of a position which enabled him to gratify +everybody's desires, could not find it in his heart to say no to +anybody. Nalaczi and Daczo were there before he had finished putting on +his boots, and introduced a whole mob of persons anxious to pay their +respects, who were waiting with smiling faces at the tent door. Apafi +made haste with his toilet in order that none should be kept waiting. He +was anxious to oblige every one. + +Amongst the first who elbowed their way in was Count Ladislaus Csaky. +He came to offer his son as a page to the Prince, the self-same son who +had filled and refilled John Kemeny's glass a few weeks before. Apafi +could scarcely find words to express his gratitude for such an offer. + +Next came Master Gabriel Haller, who seemed as if he would really never +leave off bowing and scraping, and addressed an eloquent oration to +Apafi, every tenth word of which was a title of honour. Apafi could +scarcely conceal his childish joy at being called your Highness, and +invited Master Gabriel Haller to dinner straight off. + +A dais was then placed in the back part of the tent, which the modest +Prince absolutely refused to mount, till his brother Stephen used gentle +violence, and even then he insisted on rising to receive every suitor, +and accompanied him to the door at the end of each audience. + +Petitioners, homagers, and visitors of every description kept coming and +going one by one. + +By Apafi's side stood Nalaczi, Daczo, Stephen Apafi, and John Cserey, +whom his Highness urged repeatedly to be seated. + +After receiving the oaths of allegiance, on which occasion the +commandants of the fortresses placed the keys of their strongholds in +the Prince's hands, it was the turn of the petitioners to be introduced. + +First came Master Martin Pok, the jailer of Fogaros, with the humble +petition that he might be appointed the governor of that fortress, +inasmuch as the former governor had fled to Simon Kemeny. + +Apafi promised to bear him in mind. + +Next came Master John Szasy, the chief magistrate of Hermannstadt, +complaining, with tears in his eyes, that his fellow-citizens were +persecuting him, and throwing himself on the Prince's protection. + +Apafi at once took him under his wing. + +Then followed Master Moses Zagoni, who begged the Prince to let him off +a certain balance in his accounts which had been outstanding from +Kemeny's time. + +Him too Apafi sent away comforted. + +Last of all came a thick-set, sturdy Szekler, in a short sheep-skin +jacket, who called himself the representative of Olahfalva; did homage +to Apafi in the name of his district, and preferred two very peculiar +petitions, to wit: that from henceforth Olahfalva should be declared to +be only _two_ miles from Klausenburg (the real distance between the two +places is, as we all know, more than twenty); and secondly, that it +should be legally enacted that he who had no horse should go on foot. + +The Prince laughingly complied with both of these extraordinarily +ludicrous requests, which put him into such a good humour that an +itinerant scholar, Clement by name, a crooked-nosed, long-legged +individual, wrapped from head to foot in a fox-skin mantle, made bold to +approach Apafi, and present him on his knees with a huge parchment roll +which he had been holding in his hand for some time, and which the +Prince, not without extraneous help, now took and unfolded. Inside it he +read the whole genealogical record of the Apafis, painted on a +green-leaved family-tree, whereby his family was brought into connection +with the illustrious Bethlen and Bathory families; traced back to King +Samuel Aba, from him again to Huba, one of the seven original leaders of +the Magyars, and thence ascending still further, first to Attila's +youngest son Csaka, and from him in the female line to the daughter of +the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus, but in the male line to Nimrod, +the first recorded earthly king. + +This fulsome piece of flattery seemed to somewhat annoy Apafi; but as he +could not quite make up his mind to kick the impertinent poet out of the +tent, he resolved to be quit of him with a handful of ducats, and placed +the genealogical tree behind him by way of a prop. + +Nevertheless the Prince's good-humour was not in the least disturbed. He +seemed to feel it his bounden duty to treat every one who approached him +with peculiar graciousness and condescension, and after listening +patiently to the last of his many petitioners, he turned to Messrs. +Nalaczi and Daczo, who stood by his side, and said-- + +"Is there absolutely nothing I can do for you? How shall I requite the +fidelity with which you have stood by me from the very first?" + +Nalaczi and Daczo had long been racking their brains as to what _they_ +should ask of the Prince. Their chief anxiety was lest they should ask +too little. + +"I leave the reward of my poor services to the benevolence of your +Highness," said Nalaczi: but he thought within himself that the Szeklers +needed another Captain-General in the place of Beldi. + +"The little I have been fortunate enough to do for your Highness is, in +my opinion, not even worth mentioning," declared Daczo; but it did +occur to him at the same time that the post of Governor of Klausenburg, +vacant by the flight of Banfi, was just the very thing for him. + +Apafi looked at them benignly, and no doubt would have created both +these worthy but not particularly capable gentlemen privy-counsellors at +the very least, when, unfortunately for them, a hubbub outside here +interrupted the conversation, and the body-guards, drawing aside the +curtains of the tent, admitted Kucsuk Pasha. + +The Prince sprang from his seat at once, and would have gone to meet +him, had not Stephen Apafi pulled him by the mantle and whispered in his +ear-- + +"Keep up your dignity in the presence of the Turk. He is only a +subaltern Pasha, while you are the sovereign Prince of Transylvania." + +Despite this admonition Apafi did not feel quite at his ease till Kucsuk +had beckoned to him to be seated, and although the Turk remained +standing in the presence of the Prince, there was this difference +between them, that whereas Apafi's face expressed nothing but affability +and condescension, Kucsuk's was all haughtiness and dignity. + +"How can I show my gratitude for the labours and perils you have +undergone on my behalf?" asked Apafi with genuine enthusiasm. + +"Not to me but to my imperial master are thy thanks due," replied Kucsuk +dryly. "I did but do his will when I set thee on the throne of +Transylvania. With God's help I have scattered thy enemies, only a +fortress here and there still holds out. I shall have done my whole duty +when I have captured them; the rest lies with thee. To-morrow I shall +besiege Klausenburg, and, cost what it may, I shall not rest till the +town is taken. When that has fallen the others will follow of their own +accord." + +"Should I not also call out the provincial banderia[17]?" inquired +Apafi. + + [Footnote 17: _Banderia._ The mounted gentry of the + county.] + +"I need them not," replied Kucsuk; "let them remain at home and look +after their own affairs. My own troops will do everything." + +Apafi was about to thank the Pasha for his magnanimity, when suddenly he +became aware that every one was looking towards one of the +side-entrances of the tent, through which some one had just entered +without being announced. + +The Prince also looked round in the same direction, and what he then saw +before him made him forget instantly Transylvania, Kucsuk Pasha, +Klausenburg, and everything else, for before him stood his beautiful and +majestic consort, Anna Bornemissa. + +It was indeed a queenly apparition. + +That commanding countenance, which seemed to exact homage, how affably +yet how proudly it could glance around! In her dress there was no trace +of pomp; but was there any need of gems where such speaking eyes flashed +and sparkled? Did that royal form require velvet or ermine to lend it +majesty? + +It was the first time that Apafi had seen her since his departure. She +had risen from her child-bed twice as lovely as before. Renewed +happiness and comfort had invested her features with a sort of +transparent brightness. Her eyes, dimmed no longer by tears of sorrow, +flashed with a purer radiance than before. Her lips, which had long +known nought but joy, smiled still more sweetly. Her figure had gained +in fullness and roundness without losing in symmetry, and the confident, +self-conscious dignity visible in all her features and all her movements +well became her majestic form. + +Apafi, forgetting all dignity and decorum when he saw his consort, +sprang from his seat, rushed towards her, seized her hand, drew the +enchanting lady to his breast, just as he used to do when he was a +simple squire, and kissed her mouth and cheeks so heartily that the +assembled Estates of the Realm had auricular demonstration of the fact. + +Anna nestled closely to her husband's breast, and her lips tenderly +returned his salutations; but her large, earnest eyes seemed to be +scrutinizing over her husband's shoulder the faces of all who were +present, and her gaze rested for an instant on each one of them. + +These connubial caresses seemed likely to have no end so far as Apafi +was concerned--his wife was worth more to him than all Transylvania with +the appurtenances thereof--till Anna disengaged herself from his arms +with a smile, and said merrily-- + +"You lavish the outpourings of your heart on me alone, but there is some +one else here who claims his share too;" and with that she beckoned to +Dame Sarah, who had followed her mistress into the tent with a beaming +countenance, and now unwrapped before Apafi's eyes a pretty sleeping +babe, whom the good nurse had been dangling about in a piece of silken +tapestry. + +Beside himself for joy, Apafi took the child in his arms and kissed its +little round cherub face again and again. The child awaking, allowed +itself to be kissed and hugged without uttering a cry, and snatched with +its plump little be-ribboned arms at papa's beard, which naturally gave +papa indescribable delight. + +The gentlemen standing around considered it their bounden duty to +congratulate the Prince on his parental felicity, who, drunk with joy, +exhibited his son to them and said-- + +"Look how serious he is. He doesn't even cry. What a perfect little man +it is!" + +Meanwhile Anna beckoned to Stephen Apafi, and whispered to him-- + +"I am sure the gentlemen will not take it ill if the Prince's family +concerns and joys withdraw him for a few moments from public affairs." + +"Your Highness has taken the words out of my mouth," replied Stephen. "I +was just about to say the same thing to the gentlemen myself;" and +turning towards the courtiers, he begged them to leave the Prince for a +few moments in the bosom of his family, and meanwhile withdraw into the +antechamber. + +The gentlemen considered the request only natural, and at once retired, +obsequiously giving precedence as they went to Kucsuk Pasha. + +No sooner did Anna find herself alone with her consort, than she took +the child from his arms, gave it back to Sarah, and sent them both away. +Apafi now approached her with fresh demonstrations of tenderness, but +she took him by the hand, gazed earnestly into his eyes, and said-- + +"It is to the Prince of Transylvania that I have come!" + +Apafi was somewhat chilled by her steady look; but she, perceiving it, +nestled closely up to him again, and said kindly-- + +"I was beginning to suspect that the Prince might have more need of me +than the husband." Then she added with a smile full of irresistible +grace--"I hope you will not misconstrue my good intentions." + +Apafi embraced his wife, and made her sit down by his side. The chair of +state was large enough to accommodate them both. It is true that the +pretty wife had to sit half upon her husband's knee, but that certainly +did not inconvenience either of them. + +"You are right," said Apafi; "it is well that you are here. When I don't +see you I always feel that I lack something. At any rate you deserve to +be nearest to my heart, and I'll venture to set your judgment against +the judgment of any of the gentlemen surrounding me." + +"Who are all these gentlemen?" asked Anna. + +"You must know them all by name. The lanky man is Ladislaus Csaky, who +offers me his son as a page." + +"He loses no time about it! A very little while ago the lad was John +Kemeny's page." + +Apafi began to look glum. + +"The man with the large moustaches is Gabriel Haller." + +Anna smote her hands together in amazement. + +"What! he here too?" + +"What have you to find fault with in him?" + +"I'll tell you. He has always been the spy of your enemies. He brought +Kemeny the first tidings of your installation, and of Kucsuk Pasha's +arrival at Segesvar." + +Apafi's features grew still darker. + +"And I have invited the gentleman to dinner!" he murmured between his +teeth. + +"And why are Messrs. Nalaczi and Daczo so familiar with you? Do they +want anything?" + +"They are my faithful followers, who have stood by my side from the very +first." + +"But pray don't on that account make them the highest personages in the +land. Simple, ignorant men in responsible positions are far more +dangerous to a state than open but enlightened foes. Reward them by all +means, but only in proportion to their abilities." + +"I'll do so," replied the harassed Prince; and during the remainder of +the interview he tried hard to uphold his conjugal supremacy, but Anna +would not let the subject drop. + +"And Master John Szasy, what does he do here? for I saw him too." + +"The poor fellow is persecuted," returned Apafi, who began to find the +joke a little tiresome. + +"Evil rumours are abroad about that man. People say of him--and they say +it pretty loudly--that he has young Saxon girls abducted for him, and +after sacrificing them to his brutal lusts, removes them out of the way +by poison. The parents of the girls have indicted this man, and he +fancies he will escape exposure by fawning upon you." + +Apafi sprang wrathfully from his seat. + +"If that be so, I will show Master Szasy the door; he shall find no +shelter beneath my mantle." + +"And what brought that honest, tattered Szekler hither?" asked Anna, who +had evidently made up her mind to know everything. "I like not his +crafty face at all. The Szekler is always most dangerous when he puts on +the garb of simplicity." + +The Prince was suddenly seized with a paroxysm of mirth, he could +scarcely speak for laughing. + +"That was the representative of Olahfalva," said he. + +At the mention of this place even Anna could not forbear from smiling. + +"The good folks of Olahfalva," continued Apafi, still laughing, "who +carry people to church in sheets and beat watches to death!" + +"I fear me the poor people are very much maligned. They are called +simple, but methinks their ways are altogether crooked and crafty." + +"But is it not true then that they carry ladders horizontally through +the woods?" + +"Yes; but why? You shall hear. Their Captain-General had forbidden them +to waste the woods, but at the same time sent them out to pull down +crows' nests; so to get at the nests they carried the ladders +horizontally through the woods to have an excuse for hewing down every +tree that stood in their way." + +"Well explained! But at least you will not deny that in hilly districts +they never plough to the end of their fields for fear that if they go +right to the margin the earth will tilt over with them." + +"They do that because the margin is of a rocky consistency which no +ploughshare will penetrate." + +"Then what do you say of their custom of choosing to represent them at +the Diet those amongst them upon whom their obsolete, short skin-jackets +sit the best? I'll swear I saw the self-same jacket now worn by the +Olahfalva deputy at the Diet of Klausenburg twelve years ago, only then +it was on some one else's shoulders." + +"The good folks think," returned the Princess, "that a deputy to the +Diet need say little or nothing, but that the coat in which he has to +sit for hours ought to be as comfortable as possible." + +"You seem to know the reason of everything. But, come now! explain, if +you can, the signification of the promises which this Szekler has got +out of me. He petitioned for two things: first, that the distance +between Olahfalva and Klausenburg should henceforth be declared to be +only two miles." + +"Oh! _sancta simplicitas_!" cried Anna. "They have a charter which +permits them to offer their timber for sale at any place within two +miles of their district; they are consequently anxious to have the +Klausenburg market thrown open to them." + +"I really believe you are right," returned Apafi, in a tone of +conviction. "I now begin to suspect their second petition, although it +seems to me to have no special connection with their community. They +desire it to be legally enacted that he who has no horse shall +henceforth be obliged to go on foot." + +"I have it!" cried Anna, after a moment's reflection. "Olahfalva has +recently been made a post station, and the couriers passing through the +place have therefore the right to demand fresh horses there. Now the +good people begin to find this new obligation onerous, and therefore +want a law passed to compel the couriers to make their pilgrimages +through Olahfalva on foot." + +Apafi stamped angrily on the ground. + +"The impudent rascal! To presume to jest with me in such a way! Well, +you shall see how I'll make them grin on the other side of their faces. +But is it not about time to re-admit the gentlemen?" + +"One word more, Apafi," said Anna gently, placing her velvety arms on +her husband's shoulder. "I observed Kucsuk Pasha among your liegemen; I +presume he came to take his leave?" + +Apafi threw back his head much perplexed. + +"Not at all! Don't you know that we are here to capture Klausenburg? It +is Kucsuk's business to take it." + +"Michael!" cried the Princess, in a tone of tearful supplication. "Do +you mean to say that you will suffer a Turkish garrison in Klausenburg? +Do you forget that the Osmanlis are always loth to relinquish any +Hungarian stronghold that they once get possession of? Do you not +recollect that Klausenburg is the capital of your realm, and those who +dwell within its walls are your own people, your own compatriots, your +own co-religionists? And you would expose them to the horrors of an +assault? The Turks may be your allies, but after all they are heathens +and aliens, whom you should not allow to play havoc with your people. +Did not your heart sink within you when you saw the walls of +Klausenburg? Could you behold those towers, those houses, without +reflecting that there are the homes of your fellow-countrymen and the +churches of your God, into which the besiegers would hurl their +firebrands? Could you look at those ramparts without perceiving crowds +of mothers holding their babes in their arms, and declaring to you that +your own people--an innocent, loyal, honest people--dwell therein? And +you would hold your triumphal entry into the capital of your country +over the mutilated bodies of these women and children?" + +Apafi rose from his seat. His forehead was bathed with sweat. +Involuntary remorse was legible on his troubled countenance. + +"No, Anna; I don't wish it. How can you think me so heartless? What! I, +who could never endure the tears of a single woman, should remain deaf +to the lamentations of a whole nation? But what am I to do? I meant to +have called out the banderia to invest the town, and so compel the +garrison to surrender; but how shall I set about it with Kucsuk Pasha in +the way? He is determined to storm the town, I know not how to prevent +him." + +"Be easy on that score. The commanders of the Turkish troops in +Transylvania have received firmans[18] ordering them to instantly rejoin +the army of the Grand Vizier at Ersekujvar. Kucsuk too has doubtless +received such a firman." + + [Footnote 18: _Firman._ A decree issued by the Sultan + and proclaimed by the Grand Vizier.] + +"I was not aware of it. That is why he wants to press on the assault, I +suppose?" + +"A similar mandate is already on its way to you from the Divan,[19] and +by pretending that this mandate has already reached you, it will be easy +to induce the Pasha in a friendly way to raise the siege of +Klausenburg." + + [Footnote 19: _Divan._ The Sultan's council.] + +"I will try, Anna; I will try!" cried Apafi, walking up and down the +tent. "I owe it to my people, and I would rather turn my back upon these +walls than force my way through them with fire and sword." + +"But you must not turn your back upon them," replied the discreet lady; +"there are ways and means of getting possession of the fortress without +having recourse to fire and sword." + +Apafi stood still and looked inquiringly at his wife. She drew him +closer to her and whispered in his ear-- + +"Before coming to Klausenburg, I secretly instructed the well-disposed +within the town to try and bring the garrison over to our side. This +morning our spies have brought us word that the infantry is ready, at +the first sound of the trumpet from without, to open the gates and go +over to us with bag and baggage. The cavalry by itself will be unable to +offer any resistance." + +"My dear!" cried Apafi in astonishment, "you are really a born +princess." + +Anna took her husband softly by the arm, led him to the dais, and made +him sit down. + +"The sceptre is no plaything, Apafi," said she earnestly. "Never forget +that posterity will sit in judgment on princes. A ruler's every act and +word may mean the ruin or the salvation of thousands. Think of that in +all you do and say. And now, God be with you. Be firm!" + +Anna, with an exalted look, kissed the Prince on the forehead. At that +very moment her eye fell on the parchment roll of the itinerant scholar. + +"What plan of campaign is this?" cried she, taking up the parchment. + +Apafi would have snatched it from her, but it was too late; Anna had +already unrolled it, and after casting a rapid glance over the +lickspittling pedigree, looked with an expression of overwhelming +reproach at the discomfited Prince, who stood before her with downcast +eyes. + +"Did _you_ get any one to compose it?" she softly asked. + +"Certainly not," replied Apafi energetically; "a shameless poet brought +it to me." + +"Then throw it into the fire," replied his wife, much relieved. + +"That is just what I was going to do. I can then get rid of him with a +few ducats." + +"A few strokes with a whip would be much more appropriate," exclaimed +Anna wrathfully; but soon her features grew mild again, and steadfastly +regarding her husband she said to him kindly--"Be strong! Be a prince! +Protect the loyal! Forgive the repentant! Despise flatterers!" + +With that she curtseyed low, kissed her husband's hand, and had vanished +from the tent before he could return the salute. + +Apafi immediately called Cserey and commanded him to re-admit the +gentlemen, who were still waiting in the ante-chamber. + +On the countenances of the courtiers could be read, as plainly as if it +were written there, the persuasion that they might now ask for and +expect from the Prince anything they liked, on the presumption that the +blissful antecedent domestic scene had left him in a state of mental +flabbiness which could say no to nobody. Stephen Apafi was alone +sufficiently sober-minded to perceive the change which had come over his +brother's face in the meantime. Apafi's features now wore an expression +of dignity, firmness, and energy worthy of a prince. + +"My loyal friends," he cried, in a hard, firm voice, without waiting for +any one to address him. "As concerning the petitions preferred to us, we +would dismiss you with fit and proper answers. We accept your homage +with all due appreciation, and trust you will ever persevere in your +loyalty. You, Ladislaus Csaky, we permit to return home. We will no +longer deprive you of your family joys. As for your son, we will have +him educated abroad at our own cost, till he be suitable for our +service." + +Count Ladislaus Csaky, with a very wry face indeed, expressed his +gratitude for the Prince's gracious permission to return home, although +he would willingly have remained at Court all his life with the whole of +his family. + +Gabriel Haller the Prince passed over altogether, as if he absolutely +did not see him, but he turned pointedly towards Nalaczi and Daczo, who +made desperate efforts to appear meek and humble. + +"Having regard to the zeal and affection which our faithful Stephen +Nalaczi has always testified for our person, we appoint him herewith +first gentleman-in-waiting at our Court. And you, John Daczo, we appoint +commander of Csikszerda." + +Both gentlemen made the grimace usual in suitors who have expected much +and got little. Nalaczi smiled, but within he was all wormwood and gall. +Daczo tried to look contented, but he coloured up to the ears. They were +scarcely able to thank the Prince for his goodness. + +Meanwhile Master Pok, in order not to be left altogether out of sight, +had elbowed his way to the front, completely covering honest Cserey, who +modestly made way for him. + +Apafi beckoned to him, however. + +"Why do you keep so much in the background?" said he. + +Master Pok, under the impression that the hint was meant for him, drew +still nearer. + +"'Tis Master Cserey whom we address," continued the Prince, "or do you +think that we are unable to distinguish our faithful from our feigning +followers? Your fidelity and prudence, Master Cserey, are well known to +us, wherefore we appoint you forthwith governor of our fortress of +Fogaros." + +In his consternation Master Pok looked up at the ceiling as if he +expected it to fall on his head. + +"Master Martin Pok, on the other hand," pursued the Prince, "we confirm +in his former post. He will continue to be jailer at the same fortress." + +Master Martin Pok sobbed aloud. Cserey was about to raise objections, +but the Prince beckoned him to be silent. + +Next came Master John Szasy's turn. + +"You are accused of grievous crimes, from which we have neither the will +nor the power to absolve you. You will therefore be conveyed to +Hermannstadt with a strong escort, there to clear yourself as best you +can." + +John Szasy, with a stupefied air, looked first to the right and then to +the left. He could not understand it at all. + +"You, Master Moses Zagoni, we command to present your accounts for +examination to our officers of the Exchequer thereunto appointed." + +To hide his own confusion, Zagoni thought he could not do better than +whisper consolation to Szasy. + +The deputy of Olahfalva had now to take his turn. It was indeed high +time that something amusing should happen, for while the Prince had thus +been distributing rewards and punishments, the smile had gradually +vanished from every face; nothing short of the discomfiture of the +quaint and crafty boor could now restore the general hilarity. + +"What I promised you," said the Prince, scarcely able to repress his +inward merriment, "is yours. If it give you any satisfaction, you may +henceforth regard Olahfalva as only two miles distant from Klausenburg +instead of twenty; let him also who has no horse go on foot as you +desire. But we grant this with the express reservation that you are not +to take any timber to the market of Klausenburg, and that you always +give the couriers the necessary relays of horses." + +The Szekler grinned, shook his head, and then looked very hard at the +Prince, as if to find out how Apafi could possibly have got to the +bottom of his artifice. + +The wondering, puzzled face of the Olahfalvian was too much for Apafi's +gravity, and he burst into a loud guffaw, in which everybody present +joined him. The Szekler, whose face had hitherto worn a bewildered +smile, suddenly became quite serious, threw back his head defiantly, +cast a furious look around, half stripped off his short jacket, and +exclaimed-- + +"Harkye, gentlemen! If the Prince chooses to make merry with me, I +suffer it; but I'll trouble you all not to laugh so at my expense." + +The Prince beckoned to them to be silent, and diverted their attention +by calling forward the itinerant scholar Clement, who shambled up on his +long, lean legs, as if he were every moment about to fall on his knees. + +"We have commanded our treasurer," said the Prince, "to pay to you out +of our privy purse three _marias_[20] for the work which you have handed +to us." + + [Footnote 20: _Maria._ An old Hungarian coin worth + about thirty-five kreutzers.] + +"Your Highness was pleased to observe--" stammered the confounded poet. + +"You heard very well. I said three _marias_. That is about the value of +the writing materials which you have wasted upon this pedigree. Another +time employ your leisure more profitably." + +The Prince then signified that the audience was at an end. + +The gentlemen quitted the tent with many a deep obeisance. Kucsuk Pasha +alone remained behind. + +During the whole of this scene the Pasha had been shaking his head, as +if he had not expected all this from Apafi. He could not help remarking +too that Apafi now needed no one to remind him how to preserve his +princely dignity in the presence of others. Apafi wore an affable air; +but it was the affability of princely condescension. + +"We have learnt with regret," he began, turning towards the Pasha, "that +we must shortly lose you, whose valour we so much admire, whose +friendship we so much esteem." + +The Pasha looked up with astonishment. + +"What means your Highness?" + +"In consequence of a firman commanding the Transylvanian generals to +assemble in the camp of the Grand Vizier. We shall, alas! only see you +in our circle for a very short time." + +Kucsuk angrily bit his lips. + +"How could he have learnt that already?" he muttered. + +"We would willingly retain you, for your person is most dear to us; but +we know that the commands of the Padishah require instant submission. +Moreover, lest your devotion to us should draw down upon you the +displeasure of the Sublime Porte, we have taken such measures as will +bring the fortress of Klausenburg to capitulate without having resort to +an assault, thus releasing you from the troublesome obligation of +keeping your army here any longer. As to the confirmation of our +princely dignity, we will take care to settle all that with the Grand +Vizier, presumably at Ersekujvar, whither we also are summoned." + +During this speech, Kucsuk had regarded the Prince fixedly and with +folded arms. Even when Apafi had finished speaking, he remained standing +in the same position without uttering a word. + +Apafi calmly continued-- + +"In order however to express our personal gratitude, however feebly, for +your services, we would have you accept from us this little gift more as +a token of our respect than as a reward." And with that the Prince took +from his neck a gold chain set with large brilliants, and hung it round +the Pasha's neck. + +Kucsuk still remained immovable. He searchingly scrutinized the Prince, +and wrinkled his brows. Then, all at once, he began to smile, and +shaking his head said slyly-- + +"It is well, Apafi, it is all excellently well. But I see that thou art +wont to commit thy understanding to the custody of thy wife. _Salem +aleikum!_ Peace be with thee!" + +And off went the Pasha, shaking his head all the way. + +But Apafi, with a lightened heart, hastened back to his wife. + +Master Gabriel Haller waited a very long time at the door of the tent, +till one of the bodyguards came out to inform him that the Prince would +dine that day in his family circle. + +Then he too shook his head and departed. + + * * * * * + +A couple of days later, with drums beating and banners waving, Prince +Michael Apafi made his triumphal entry into Klausenburg. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE PERI. + + +Once more we are in Hungary, among the Homolka Mountains, in one of +those parts of the land which no one has ever thought of colonizing. For +fifty miles round there is not a village to be seen; not a single +passable road traverses the whole mountain range. The very footpaths +break abruptly off amongst the rocky labyrinths, terminating either in a +leaf-covered waterfall, or at the forsaken hut of a charcoal-burner, the +carbonized, sooty environment of which suffers nothing green to grow. + +The very skirts of this wilderness are uninhabited. One can wander for +hours among the oaks and beeches, towering up one above the other, +without hearing any other sound but one's own footsteps; not a blade of +grass, not a flower, not a shrub can thrive anywhere here. Beneath the +uncleared trees rustle the fallen yellow leaves, peeping up from the +midst of which we perceive the speckled caps of oddly-shaped fungi +clinging in clusters to the mossy tree stems. + +Only where the stream dashes down from the mountains, forcing its way +through the valley, does the greensward appear. There, among the +luxuriant grasses, lie the fearless stags; wild bees build their +basket-shaped nests in the hollow trees on the margin of the stream, and +sweep buzzing round the Alpine flowers which dance on the surface of the +water. + +That stream is the Rima. + +In the dim, dismal distance still higher mountains appear, from which +the stream plunges down in a snow-white torrent. The morning mists +exaggerate the magic remoteness of the scene, and when at last you have +reached the extremest point of that remoteness, it is only to see before +you a still more awful expanse, still more desolate mountain ranges, +forming as it were an immense and uninterrupted ladder up to heaven. + +The Rima burrows in every direction among these primeval mountains. She +alone is bold enough to force her way through this wild rocky labyrinth. +Sometimes she plunges down from the granite terraces with a +far-resounding din, dissolving into a white, cloudy spray, in which the +sunbeams paint an eternal rainbow, which spans the velvet-green margins +of the abyss like a fairy bridge. A moss-clad rock projects from the +midst of the waterfall, dividing it into two, and from the moss-clad +rock wild roses look over into the dizzying, tumbling rapids below. Far +away down, the vagrant stream is hemmed in between basalt rocks; the +twofold echo changes its monotonous, muffled roar into melancholy music; +its transparent, crystal waters appear black from the colour of their +stony bed, wherein rosy trout and sprightly water-snakes, like silver +ribbons, disport themselves; then, escaping from its brief constraint, +it dashes onwards from crag to crag, angrily scourging a huge mass of +rock which once, in flood-time, it swept into its bed from a distance of +many miles, and which, after the next thaw or rainfall, it will hurl a +thousand fathoms deeper into the rock-environed valley. + +Higher and higher we mount. The oaks and beeches fall behind us; the +pines and firs begin. The horizon opens out ever wider and wider. The +transparent mists which have hitherto veiled the heights are left behind +in the depths. The little green patches of valley are scarcely visible +through the opal atmosphere, and the hilly woodlands have dwindled into +dark specks; only their outlines, gold and lilac in the rays of the +rising sun, are still distinguishable. + +And before us the mountains still rise higher and higher. One feels +tempted to scale these fresh giants also, in order to find out whether +there is really any end to them. Now too even the Rima has forsaken us. +Deep down below, we perceive a round, dark-blue lakelet, enclosed on all +sides by steep rocks, on the mirror-like surface of which white swans +are bathing beneath the shadows of the pines dependent over the water's +edge. In the midst of this lakelet, the source of the Rima tosses and +tumbles, casting its bubbling crystal fathoms high, and keeping the +lakelet in perpetual ebullition, as if some spirit were trying to raise +up the whole lake with his head. + +And yet another mountain range starts up before our eyes, covered with +thick fir-woods, though nothing else will grow on the steep ridge, which +is covered along its whole length by masses of rock piled one on the top +of the other. Nowhere does a single green speck meet the eye. + +Having scaled these heights also, we naturally fancy that at last we +have reached the highest point, when suddenly, high above the dark fir +forests, a white giant emerges, and before the eyes of the wearied +mountaineer rise the lofty distant peaks of the Silver Alps, +representing the unattainable with their towering, snowy pyramids. + +Here we pause. + +All along the mountain ridge, standing out the more distinctly for the +great distance, meanders a footpath, disappearing among the pine forests +at one point and re-emerging at another, thereby showing that some one +must dwell here in the wilderness, a circumstance the more startling as, +up to this point, the region has seemed altogether uninhabited, while +beyond it shimmer the still more inhospitable snowy mountains. + +From the top of this peak one sees hundreds and hundreds of mountains +and valleys exactly resembling one another. The eye grows weary of +regarding them, and so long as the sun's rays strike obliquely over the +region, suffusing it with a golden mist, one can barely distinguish the +separate parts of the oppressively sublime panorama. + +Gradually, however, our attention is attracted towards a deep, rocky +gorge, surrounded by greyish-blue mountains, which seem likely at any +moment to topple over. In the midst of this gorge an enormous and +completely isolated rocky pillar stands upright, looking for all the +world as if it had just fallen from the skies. A careless glance might +easily pass over this rocky mass without seeing anything remarkable +about it; but a more attentive observer would discover a narrow wooden +bridge planted on fir-wood piles, and apparently connecting the rocky +block with the surrounding mountain summits. And gradually we perceive +that it was not Nature's hand which made this rocky scaffolding so high. +Those monochromatic rocks, piled one atop the other, forming a wall all +round, and seeming to prolong the mountain range, are the work of human +hands. It is a massive rocky bastion, almost as high as the hill which +forms its base, and as the walls are everywhere carried right out to the +verge of the steep, naked mountain side, they look as if they have grown +out of it, and as if the creeping plants which cling to the rocky walls +are only there to bind them more closely together. + +In the year 1664, the eye which looked down from this point upon the +bare bastions could have perceived within them a dwelling fresh from +fairy-land. Corsar Beg, the terror of the district, dwelt in this +stronghold, and at his command, hedges of roses bloomed on the bastions, +groves of orange and pomegranate trees sprang up around the courtyard, +and everywhere could be seen those gorgeous structures which oriental +magnificence builds for transient pleasure. Spacious rotundas with +sky-blue, enamelled cupolas, sparkling in the sun; variegated turrets +rising from the bastions; balconies adorned with arabesques and covered +with porcelain vases; slim, snow-white minarets encircled by fragrant +creepers; trellised kiosks with their gilded columns; everything +constructed of the most delicate materials, as if it were meant to be a +toy castle; nothing but gilded wood and painted glass, enamelled tiles +and variegated tapestry. Bright banners and pennants flutter down from +the copper roofs, and golden half-moons sparkle on every gable-ridge. +All the kiosks, rotundas, and minarets are bright with banners and +half-moons. 'Tis a fairy palace ready to take flight. + +But the bastions which encircle this frail fairy palace are impregnable. +On every side nothing but inaccessible rocks, where, if once he reach +them, the pursued can defend himself against odds a hundredfold. The +Comparadschis stand, day and night, with burning matches behind the +cannons which Corsar Beg has had cast for himself within the fortress, +for there is no road for ordnance in the whole region. Two of the +cannons are pointed at the bridge, to blow it into the air in case of an +assault. + +From this stronghold Corsar Beg sallies forth, pillaging the land and +massacring the defenceless people; and if he lights upon any pursuing +host, he instantly turns tail with his Spahis and Bedouins; and whilst +he flies to his stronghold along mountain paths, on mules laden with +booty, his Timariots, who cover his retreat, throw barricades up on the +narrow roads, and stone to death all who venture to follow them into the +dark gorges. Sometimes, however, he permits the pursuers to come right +up to the fortress walls, and while they are popping away at the rocky +bastions with the little half-pound mortars which they have dragged up +thither after incalculable exertions, and think that now they will +starve him out at last, he plays a practical joke upon them by somehow +or other (perhaps through subterranean ways), making a sortie from his +stronghold, and robbing and burning behind the backs of the besiegers. +Every attempt to capture, surprise, or blockade him has been in vain. +The inhabitants of the surrounding villages have begun to migrate into +more distant regions for fear of their terrible neighbour. + +After the battle of St. Gothard, in which the Turkish general lost the +fight and twelve thousand men against the Imperial and Hungarian forces, +a twenty years' armistice was concluded between the Porte, the Emperor, +and the Prince of Transylvania, which left the Turks in possession of +all the fortresses which they had built or captured in Hungary. The +lords of these fortresses now continued the war on their own account, +and pillaged and destroyed whenever and wherever they had a chance. The +Sultan was too far off to interfere in each individual case. All he +could do was to authorize the complainants to capture the peace-breakers +if they could, and deal with them as they chose. + + * * * * * + +In the twilight hour of a sultry summer evening, when the heat, +compressed among the rocks during the day, made the atmosphere so heavy +and stifling that sound only travelled with difficulty, we see two +shapes hastening towards the same point from different directions. One +is a man in Hungarian costume, with a low forehead and sharp, squinting +eyes, whose oblique gaze seems expressly made to disconcert whomsoever +he looks upon. The other is an old Turkish woman, with a warty chin +covered with sprouting bristles. The sleeves of her long striped kaftan +hang slovenly down, and her dirty turban gives you the impression that +she has slept in it for weeks together. + +The trysting-place which the two shapes are cautiously making for is a +cavern covered with bushes. Both shapes glide, at the same time, into +the cavern, from the dark depths of which they can see the fortress +without being seen themselves. The old woman, with a hideous smile, +whispers something in the man's ear. + +"Are you quite sure?" inquired the squinter, with a searching look. + +"So certain that I make bold to claim one-half of the promised reward in +advance." + +"That I can quite understand," replied the man with an insulting smile; +"but I will make bold not to pay it. I prefer sticking to my principle +of paying as I go along, sentence by sentence." + +"Ask then!" murmured the hag greedily. + +"When does the Beg return? I lay five ducats on that question." + +"The answer to it costs ten. That is my lowest price." + +"There's your money then! Now speak!" + +The woman counted the gold pieces, put them in her bosom, and replied-- + +"The Beg comes home this evening." + +"Where is the subterranean way by which he arrives?" + +"The answer to that costs one hundred ducats." + +"There you are! Don't count them, but answer me!" + +The woman took the money, pointed to the yawning chasm behind them, and +said-- + +"We are on the very spot." + +The man looked around him with some surprise, then, jingling the purse +from which he had been doling out the ducats in the old woman's ear, he +said-- + +"All in this purse is yours if our plan succeeds, but if you betray us, +this dagger will surely reach you. I'd hunt you down even if you took +refuge in hell itself!" + +The hag grinned. + +"No threats, please! I know something which will not only make you hand +over that purse of gold to me instantly, but will also fill you with +such insane joy that you'll be ready to cover me with kisses. I have +about me a letter which, if once your master reads, he would cover me +with gold from head to foot." + +"Who wrote it?" + +"That is a very dear question. If you paid for the answer down, I'm +afraid you would not have enough money left to carry you home." + +"I want to know who wrote that letter. I'm not going to buy a pig in a +poke." + +"Then farewell! If you want to know anything more, you must pay for it." +And she prepared to go. + +"Stop! Give me that letter, or I'll kill you." + +"No, you won't! One shriek from me and you are lost." + +"Where's the letter?" + +"You surely don't think me fool enough to tell you! I don't carry it on +my person, so you need not look for it!" + +The man angrily threw the purse towards her, whereupon she tripped to +the entrance of the cavern, fetched from thence her crutch and unscrewed +its handle, and drew forth from the hollow of the stick a crumpled +silken roll, which the man unravelled and began to read, and as he read +his face began to tremble for joy, disbelief, and surprise. + +"If all this really happens, what you have now received is a mere +earnest of what you will receive hereafter." + +"Didn't I tell you so?" returned the beldame complacently. "Didn't I say +that you'd gladly pay me in advance at least one-half of the sum +stipulated?" + +"Now, take heed that nothing is observed!" + +"Pst! Go round by the stream, the usual path is to-day infested by +marauding parties." + +With these words the two shapes glided hastily out of the cavern, and +vanished in different directions among the thickets of the wood. + + * * * * * + +And now begone, thou inhospitable outer world! thou oppressive mountain +panorama! thou desolate horizon! + +Appear, ye fairy realms! ye earthly counterfeits of the paradise of +dreams! Permit us one glance into the sanctuary of mysterious joys, of +stifled kisses, of glowing sighs, where Love and Love's satellites alone +do dwell and live! + +We see before us a gorgeous circular saloon. Its spacious walls are made +of mirrors, the perpetual reflection of which lends a peculiar lustre to +every object, nowhere suffering a shadow to fall. The sky-blue cupola of +the domed ceiling is supported by slender, dark-red porphyry columns, +half concealed by clusters of exotic flowers, which, heaped profusely +together in rose-coloured porcelain vases, scatter the gold-dust of +their velvet blossoms on the floor. The floor itself is covered with +silk carpets--only here and there does the mosaic pavement shimmer +forth. In the midst of the room, in a basin of rose-coloured marble, +bubbles a crystal-clear fountain, from the centre of which springs a jet +glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and falling back in showers +of liquid pearls. The water of this fountain is introduced into the +fortress through a secret passage by hidden pipes. All along the walls +extend rows of velvet divans with cylindrical, flowered cashmere +cushions; and on every side of us are fairies, laughing young girls +dancing on the carpets, romping on the divans, and splashing one another +with the water of the fountain. One odalisk swings a cymbal above her +head, and dances with audacious leaps and bounds among the rest, who, +winding their hands together, weave a magic circle around her. Three +Nubian eunuchs accompany the dancers, singing love-lorn lays to the +music of their simple pipes. + +The veils of these fairy forms flutter left and right, revealing faces +whose youthful charms no eye of man has ever gazed upon. The patter of +their tiny feet is scarcely audible on the soft carpets. They seem to +fly. Their light muslin robes ill conceal their youthful forms, and +their tresses, escaping from their turbans, writhe down their snow-white +shoulders like tame serpents. + +A black slave is playing with the little gold fish that dart about in +the basin of the fountain, and laughs aloud whenever any of the nimble +little animals wriggle out of her hands. Her white, embroidered robe is +held together by a golden girdle, and as she sits there on the rosy +marble, the hemispheres of her ebony-black bosom and her plump round +arms glisten in the sunbeams. The glow of youth shines through her dark +features, and her coral lips, radiant with mirth and joy, allow us a +glimpse at rows of the purest pearly teeth, as, with childish glee, she +laughs at her own simple sport. + +At the end of this oval saloon, raised a few feet above the floor, +stands a purple ottoman. The rosy-coloured damask curtains, which form a +baldachin over it, are tied to the branches of enormous jasmine trees by +heavy golden tassels. Oriental butterflies, with ultramarine wings, +flutter round about the silvery jasmine blossoms; and at the head of the +ottoman, on a perch in a golden cage, two little inseparable paroquets, +with emerald wings and carmine heads, nestle close together and kiss +each other perpetually. + +Stretched out to her full length upon the ottoman lies Corsar Beg's +favourite odalisk[21] Azrael. Beneath her snow-white elbows, left bare +by the loose-falling, laced sleeves of her ample kaftan, lies a living +panther, like a bright speckled cushion, licking his glossy skin, and +playing like a young kitten with his mistress's jasper-black locks which +descend upon his head. + + [Footnote 21: _Odalisk_, from Turkish Odalyk = + chamber-maid. Applied particularly to the chief + concubines of the Sultan.] + +The young lady has well chosen her companion. She too is as slender and +as supple as he; her limbs are just as flexible as his; her slight +figure has the same undulating motion, and in her languid eyes burns +just the same savage, half-quenched fire which we see in the eyes of the +half-tamed beast of prey. She lies supine on the ottoman. The amber +mouthpiece of her fragrant narghily droops from her listless hand. Close +by, on a little ivory table, spiced sherbet exhales from a golden bowl. +There too, on Japanese dishes, lie heaps of luscious fruit--golden, +warty melons; pine-apples; the red fruit of the palm; fragrant clusters +of grapes--and, dripping down upon a little silver platter, snow-white +comb-honey, gathered by the bees in the days of the acacia's bloom. + +Azrael bestows not a glance on the luscious fruits. When, from time to +time, she raises her languid eyes, half hidden by their long silken +lashes, one is almost thunderstruck: such burning glances are only to be +found beneath southern skies, whose summer is as glowing, as +languishing, as parching as the eyes of this girl. An eternal desire +burns in those eyes, unspeakable, unappeasable, which enjoyment feeds +without satisfying. If you gave her a world she would instantly demand +another. Even when every sense is sated with bliss and rapture, her +heart remains empty, and yearns after the unattainable. Those who love +her, she hates; those who hate her, she loves. Die for her, and she will +mock you; kill her, and she will adore you. + +Her oval face is as pale as though the burning rays of her eyes had +burnt up all its roses; but when she closes her eyes, and her bosom +heaves convulsively beneath the fire of her secret thoughts, the bright +crimson blood suffuses her cheeks once more. + +And how her lips tremble! She is in a brown study. She speaks to no one. +Dancing and singing, the girls of the harem circle round her. A little +negro boy kneels before her with a silver mirror. Half-naked female +slaves shower down rose-leaves upon her, and fan her with peacock's +feathers. Azrael sees them and hears them not. She looks into the +mirror, and speaks to herself, as if she would read her own thoughts +from her own features; her lips tremble, smile, and pout defiance; her +eye entices, languishes, weeps, or flashes rejection; at one moment she +transports you into the seventh heaven of delight, at the next she +dashes you to the earth. And now some cruel thought, some demoniacal +idea has got hold of her. She retracts her upper lip, exposing her +tightly-clenched teeth; her contracted eyebrows draw a trembling furrow +across her snow-white forehead; the pupils of her eye disappear, +leaving only the upturned whites visible; the beauty lines round the +corners of her mouth grow crooked, and give the expression of a Fury to +the beautiful countenance; her curling tresses, like writhing snakes, +twist down on both sides of her. Her tremulous fingers, involuntarily +and spasmodically, clutch at the smooth neck of the panther, and the +tortured beast roars aloud for pain. + +The favourite shrinks back from her own countenance. She thrusts aside +the little negro, mirror and all; wraps her starry veil around her; +turns upon her side with her tiny scarlet-slippered feet beneath her; +presses her supple body against the panther's neck, and leaning upon her +elbows, glances around with such a savage, menacing look, that every one +on whom it falls, not even excepting the wild beast, shrinks back with +fear. + +But she cannot keep still a moment. A tormenting weariness compels her +every moment to shift her position. Now she reclines on her divan, and +raising her arms aloft, throws back her head and neck; all her limbs +writhe like the folds of a serpent; in her eyes sparkle the tears of +smothered desires. + +None dare ask her, "What ailest thee?" Azrael is so capricious. Perhaps +the questioner might please her, and she would command her to +straightway leap down before her eyes from the highest pinnacle of the +Corsar's castle into the abyss below. It is therefore neither wise nor +safe to try to please Azrael. + +But lo! a gold-trellised door opens, and Azrael's tearful eyes sparkle +with joy when she perceives who it is that enters. It is the old woman +with the warty chin, whom we have already met at the cavern's mouth. A +ghastly, hideous duenna! Turkish women age prematurely. Ten years ago +Babaye was Corsar Beg's favourite mistress, now she is Azrael's +favourite slave. + +The hag sits down at Azrael's feet. She alone has the privilege of +sitting down before Azrael. + +"Are we weary then?" said the beldame to the beautiful odalisk, with a +confidential leer, displaying a row of jagged fangs black from +sugar-sucking and betel-chewing. "We find no joy in anything, eh? What! +have not the Bayaderes[22] danced amidst a circle of burning tapers? Or +has that also lost its charm? Are the Persian silks already shabby and +threadbare? Is there no longer any flavour in the honeycomb or any +perfume in the pine-apple? Have the pearls of Ceylon lost their lustre? +Do the songs of the Italian eunuchs vex and weary? And has the mirror +nothing beautiful to show? Wherefore is the Sun of suns so moody and so +impatient? Why should a cloud obscure the heaven of Damanhour? Shall I +delight her of the alabaster forehead with a tale? Shall I tell the +story of the captive lion which Medzsnun, the immortal poet, has +written?" + + [Footnote 22: _Bayaderes._ Indian singing and dancing + girls. A Portuguese word.] + +Azrael cast down her languid eyelids by way of assent. + +"Once upon a time they captured a lion in the palm forests of +Bilidulgherid. A rich and powerful Dey bought the beast for a thousand +gold pieces. The Dey was a mighty man. At his command they built for the +lion a cage of gold so large that palm-trees could stand upright +therein. The ceiling of the cage was inlaid with lapis-lazuli. They +brought to it, from the distant mountains, a spring of living water, and +the floor was decked with purple carpets. But the lion was sad and +silent. All day it lay there sullen and morose. Only when the sun had +set would it arise with an angry roar, shake the door of its cage, and +terrify the silence of the night. The Dey asked the lion, 'What dost +thou lack, my beautiful beast? Thy house is of gold. Thou dost eat with +me out of the same dish, and thy drink is the crystal spring! What more +dost thou desire? Wouldst thou bathe in ambergris? Or dost thou desire +for supper the hearts of my favourite odalisks?' The lion roared and +made answer, 'My cage, though it be of gold, is still a cage; these +palm-trees are not the groves of Nubia, and this basin is not the +springs of the desert of Berzendar. I want neither thy perfumes nor thy +spices, nor the throbbing hearts of thy slaves. Give me back the free +air of the desert, there will I speedily find again my good-humour!'" + +Babaye was silent. The odalisk, with a tremulous sigh, bowed down her +head upon her aching bosom, and beckoned to the duenna to tell her yet +another tale. + +"Wouldst thou hear the story of the fairy and the mortal maiden? Once +upon a time the fairy of the rainbow perceived a lovely maiden, enticed +her away with sweet words, and took her over the bridge of the seven +colours into the third heaven. There, everything was more beautiful than +it is on earth--the flower a languid diamond; the sigh of the zephyr a +melodious song; the pillars of the palaces nought but crystal and gems. +There every sense experienced a threefold greater bliss than here below. +The fairy treated the maiden like the apple of her eye--fairies know the +secret of loving tenderly--and yet the girl was sad. She grew weary in +heaven, and whenever the fairy went away to suck up water for the sky +from the ocean, she saw how the girl bent over the rainbow-bridge, and +looked longingly down upon the cloudy earth. 'What lackest thou?' she +asked the maiden. 'Wherefore dost thou look down so upon the earth? +Speak! What dost thou want? Command me, and I'll fetch it for +thee!'--'Stars are falling down from heaven,' replied the girl, 'and +they fall upon the earth. Give me of them, and I will make a pearly +coronet for my hair!' And the fairy went and brought the stars. Again +the maiden looked down sadly upon the earth. Again the fairy asked her, +'What dost thou lack? Is there aught on earth that thy soul desirest?' +The maiden answered, 'There below dance slim damsels, and look up +smilingly at me! Wherefore are they happier than I? Would that I had +their heads to play at ball with!' And the fairy brought the heads of +the damsels for the maiden to play at ball with." + +Azrael looked at the hag with contracted eyebrows, half raised herself +upon her elbows, and sought in her golden girdle for the malachite +handle of her little dagger. + +"Once more the maiden looked down upon the earth," resumed Babaye, +smiling. "'Is aught else to be found there that is worth a wish?' asked +the fairy in despair. 'Below there, youthful heroes are walking to and +fro,' returned the maiden, 'and they are all so sweet and so lovely. +Thou art a fairy, 'tis true, but thou art alone in heaven. Thou canst +not give me fresh love. Let me go back again to earth.'" + +Azrael sprang from the ottoman with glowing cheeks, and seized the +beldame by the shoulder. Her bosom heaved tumultuously; a threatening +scarlet flamed upon her burning face. All the muscles of her snow-white +arms seemed to quiver. + +Babaye looked up at her with a grin. + +"Come into thy bathing-chamber," said she to the agitated odalisk. "The +agate basin exhales the perfumes of spikenard and ambergris. Whilst thou +art there alone, I will entertain thee. I know still more beautiful +tales which shall rejoice thy heart." + +Azrael, all tremulous, drew her veil around her neck, and with nervous +irritability beckoned to the girls to be gone. They escaped through the +side-door in terrified haste; nor were they fearful without good cause, +for as soon as Azrael had withdrawn, the deserted panther, freed from +the thrall of his mistress, stretched himself to his full length, lolled +out his red tongue as far as it would go, protruded his sharp claws, +lowered his head with a menacing growl, sprang at a single bound into +the middle of the room, careered twice or thrice round the walls, +savagely howling and snuffing at every door behind which he scented the +vanished slaves, scratched at the threshold with bloodthirsty rage, and +whined peevishly because he could not get at them. Then he crouched down +by the water-basin, rested his fore-paws thereon, lapped up the +crystal-clear stream with his long red tongue, then, rolling himself +into a ball on the soft carpet, seized his long speckled tail between +his hind legs and played with it like a cat. Then he stood up again, +looked around with cunning, malignant eyes, and perceiving a large white +cockatoo in a bronze cage, wriggled towards it on his belly, and watched +it for a long time with lowered head and restless tail. Suddenly, with +one bound, he sprang upon it, and seized the bar of the cage with his +claws. The terrified cockatoo, loudly screeching, struck at his +assailant with his crooked bill; and the panther, who could neither +overthrow the cage nor destroy it, for it was nailed fast to the ground, +leaped over it again and again, roaring furiously, and then cowered down +before it, lashing the ground on both sides of him with his tail, and +gaping from time to time at the terrified bird with his wide +bloodthirsty jaws, whilst the cockatoo screeched, whistled, fluttered +about the cage, and hacked away at his inaccessible perch. + + * * * * * + +Along the hollow, labyrinthine way which meanders into the Corsar's +castle, the trampling of a troop of horsemen is faintly audible. The +clash of arms resounds from the depths of the wood long before we can +discern who are approaching. Now they have climbed to the mountain +summit where the road runs along the rocky ridge. It is Corsar Beg +himself with his robber band. The booty-laden mules lead the way. The +treasures of pillaged churches gleam forth from the leathern sacks piled +one on the top of the other. In the centre rides the Beg himself, with +his motley body-guard recruited from every kind of Turkish +cavalry--silk-clad Spahis with long lances, bare-armed Baskirs with bows +and arrows, Bedouins in snow-white mantles with long, brass-tipped +muskets. The Beg is a man in the prime of life. His brown, almost black +countenance makes his slight beard and moustaches nearly invisible. His +lips and eyes are large and swollen. His projecting cheek-bones and +broad chin give him a truculent, ferocious air, with which his massive +shoulders and enormous muscular development well agree. His clothing is +tastelessly overladen with gems. A string of pearls goes round his +turban. Large gold rings hang glistening down from his ears. His dolman +is embroidered with a flower-pattern of precious stones, and everything +about his horse, from its hoofs to its snaffle, is of pure gold. His +round shield is made of burnished silver, and the head of his +morning-star consists of a single cornelian. + +His troop follows him in silence. Many of the horsemen carry behind them +half-swooning Christian girls on whom they do not bestow a glance. The +garments of all these freebooters are stained with blood; some of them +have not even taken the trouble to wipe away the blood-stains from their +faces. + +The mules, whipped by the fellahs, trot noiselessly towards the +fortress; the host ambles after them along the narrow path. The Timariot +infantry straggle behind, and quarrel among themselves about the booty +which they carry on their shoulders. No one pursues them. + + * * * * * + +The large oval room is empty. The women of the harem have withdrawn into +their own apartments. Azrael is alone. + +On quitting her perfumed bath, she has a hammock slung over the +fountain, reclines therein, rocks herself luxuriously to and fro, and +lets her glowing, snow-white limbs be splashed by the water-jet. She +folds her arms across her bosom, and, with a self-complacent smile, +watches the diamond jet break against her lithe body as the swaying +hammock cuts across it with its charming burden. + +The red curtains are let down to keep out the rays of sunset, but a +rose-coloured light pervades the room, suffusing every object with a +soft and magic hue. The odalisk appears like a rosy water-nymph swinging +on a bright lotus-leaf over a fountain of liquid rubies. + +The atmosphere of the room is impregnated with a bewitching, +love-inspiring perfume. Not a sound is to be heard save the pattering of +the water-drops as they fall back into the basin. + +All at once the familiar winding of a horn is heard outside. The +prancing and neighing of horses in the courtyard scares away the +silence. Above the din rises the word of command of a well-known voice. +Azrael smiles, and rocks herself still more swiftly in her hammock. A +fatal enticement lurks in her eyes as she looks towards the +golden-trellised door, and throws back her head. + +A minute later, and we hear hasty steps approaching. Impelled by love, +Corsar Beg is hastening towards his earthly paradise. The turning of a +key is audible in the golden door. Azrael laughs aloud, and rocks +herself still more swiftly in her bright-winged hammock. + + * * * * * + +The shadows of night have descended. Every living thing sleeps soundly. +Love alone is wakeful. + +"Oh, I fear me! I fear me!" whispers Azrael, clinging still more closely +to the breast of the wild Moorish horseman. + +"Why dost thou tremble? I am here," and he embraces her slim waist. + +"Hamaliel hath brought me evil dreams," returns the odalisk. "I dreamt +that the Giaours stormed thy castle in the night-time and murdered thee. +I would have hurled myself down from the battlements, but I could not +because I was a captive. A Christian held me in his arms! Mashallah! it +was frightful!" + +"Fear not!" said the Corsar. "The Koran says that only birds can fly, +and none can get into this castle without wings. But even if we were +surprised thou hast no cause to fear falling into the hands of the +Infidel, or being defiled by the touch of the Giaour, for under the +ottoman on which we now lie a lunt is laid which goes right down into +the powder-chamber. If all were lost, thou hast but to touch that lunt +with this night-lamp, and the whole castle with us and our foes would +fly into the air." + +"Oh, what a consoling thought!" sighs Azrael, softly pressing her lips +to the Corsar's cheeks, and seeming to slumber once more. + +The night-lamp flickers feebly on its tripod, multiplying its own +shadow. The watchers snore before the doors. + +Suddenly Azrael springs screaming from her couch, dragging the Beg along +with her. + +"La illah, il allah! Dost thou not hear the noise of the Jins?" she +cries, trembling in every limb. + +The Beg stares around him in terror. A tempest is raging outside. The +weathercocks creak and rattle. The wind tears the tiles from the summits +of the minarets, and hurls them on to the cupolas of the kiosk. The +lightning flashes, and the thunder teaches the rocks to tremble. + +"Dost thou hear how they howl, those invisible beings, and rattle at the +barred and bolted windows with a mighty hand?" + +"By the shadow of Allah! I hear them right well," murmurs the trembling +freebooter, with wildly staring eyes. + +"Mercy! mercy! Avaunt, ye evil spirits!" cries Azrael, sinking down upon +the floor with dishevelled tresses, and stretching wide her naked arms. +"Ye shall be whipped with sunbeams and the darkness shall swallow you! +Go hence to the Giaours and torture them! May ye break your wings on the +horns of our half-moons, as ye whirl past them in your hosts!--Ha, how +their eyes flash! Shadow of Allah, conceal us, lest they look upon us +with their fiery eyes!" + +The big, strong man, all trembling, lies on his face beside Azrael, and +hides himself beneath her mantle and her long flowing tresses. His +superstitious terror has stolen every feeling of manliness from his +breast; he quakes like a child. + +"Dost hear! dost hear how they murmur! Repeat rapidly and aloud the +prayer of Naama, and stop thy ears that thou mayst not hear what they +say!" + +At that moment a terrible gust broke one of the panes of glass, and the +free invading air began to move the heavy curtains to and fro, and make +the lamp flicker. + +"Ha! Dost thou see him?" cried Azrael. "Pst! Look not thither! Open not +thine eyes! Hide thy face! Duck down by me! Cover thee with my mantle! +It is Asasiel, the Angel of Death! Dost thou not feel his cold sigh upon +thy cheek? Pst! Be covered! Perchance he will not see thee!" + +Corsar Beg clung convulsively to Azrael's garment, and covered his face +with his hands. + +"What wouldst thou?" cried Azrael, as if addressing an invisible spirit. +"Black shadow, with blue sparkling eyes of fire, for whom dost thou +come? There is none here but I. Corsar Beg has not come home! Come +later! Come an hour hence! Avaunt, avaunt, black being! May Allah crush +thy head in the dust! Come an hour hence, and be for ever accursed!" + +Corsar dared not open his eyes. Azrael bent half over him, to shield him +from the eyes of the Angel of Death. + +"Avaunt! avaunt!" + +At that moment the lightning struck one of the bastions, and shook the +mountain to its very base. The crackling roar of the thunder, like an +infernal trumpet-blast, went clanging up to heaven. + +"Ah!" cried Azrael, and she sank down upon the Corsar, encircled his +body with her arms, and so remained till the rumbling of the thunder had +died away, and a gentle shower began to patter down upon the copper +roof. Then the tempest gradually passed away, sighing and moaning around +the windows, and finally dying away among the distant forests. + +Azrael softly raised her head and looked around. + +"He is gone," she whispered, in a scarcely audible tone. "He said he +would return in an hour. Corsar, thou hast yet another hour to live." + +"An hour!" repeated Corsar faintly. "Alas! Azrael, where canst thou +conceal me?" + +"It cannot be. Asasiel is inexorable. Another hour, and he will take +thee away." + +"Bargain with him. If he must have the dead, I will behead a hundred of +my slaves. Promise him blood, treasure, prayers, and burning villages. +All, all he shall have, only let him give me back my life!" + +"Too late. In my dreams I saw thy sword break in twain. Thy days are +numbered. Nay, thou hast but one chance left, but one way of thwarting +the Angel of Blood: if only one among the dead will change names with +thee, so that Asasiel may carry him off instead of thee." + +"Oh yes! oh yes!" stammered the strong man, beside himself for fear. +"Oh, seek me out some such dead man who will change names with me. Thou +dost know the incantations. Go! call up one from the grave! Promise him +anything, everything, whoever he may be--a fellah, a rajah, it matters +not. I'll give him my name and take his. Go!" + +"Nay, but thou must go also. Gird on thy kaftan quickly. Leave thy +weapons here. Spirits fear not sharp steel. We will descend into the +churchyard beneath the fortress walls; kindle ambergris and borax on a +tripod; hurl the magic wand into the nearest grave, and so compel the +dwellers therein to appear before thee. When the spirit appears he will +stand motionless, but thou must advance towards him, and cry thrice in +a loud voice--'Die for me!' whereupon the spirit will vanish, and +Asasiel will cease from troubling thee." + +"But thou too wilt be close at hand?" stammered the Corsar, grasping +tightly the arm of the odalisk, as if he feared that Death would +instantly seize him if he let her go. + +"Yes, I will be by thy side. But hasten. An hour is but a brief +respite." + +Corsar quickly threw his upper garment around him, and recited in broken +sentences the beginning of a prayer, the end of which he could not +recollect. + +"Wake none of the watch," said Azrael cautiously. "The power of the +spell might be broken if we met any living soul who should say a prayer +contrary to ours. We will saddle the horses ourselves and descend by +secret paths. Speak not a word by the way, nor cast a glance behind +thee." + +The Beg was ready. He was just putting on his fur-lined kaftan, for his +limbs felt frozen, when the odalisk called to the panther, which was +reposing on the carpet. + +"Oglan,[23] thou shalt go with us and keep watch, and if we fall in with +a wild beast, thou shalt defend us." + + [Footnote 23: _Oglan_, the Turkish for boy.] + +As if he understood the words of his mistress, the panther rose up on +his hind legs and placed his fore-paws on her arm, while the trembling +man clung to her on the other side. + + * * * * * + +The Turkish cemetery beneath the walls of the fortress is planted with +cypress trees. The turbaned graves, with their coffin-like slabs, peer +forth, ghastly white, from among the dark weeping-willows. The sound of +the approaching footsteps startles away a grey wolf from among the +tombs, the sole inhabitant of that desolation. Since the last shower the +clouds have dispersed, and here and there the dark-blue sky looks +through with its diamond stars. Raindrops trickle down from the leaves +of the trees. + +From time to time the rumbling of the storm is still heard faintly in +the distance. Sheet-lightning flickers above the mountain crests, +painting everything white for an instant. The lightning, like the night, +can only give one colour to this region--the one paints it white, the +other black. + +The nightly shapes reach the churchyard by the secret path and dismount +among the graves. Azrael places the reins of both horses in Oglan's +jaws, and the shrewd beast remains sitting there on his haunches, +holding both the snorting horses as firmly as if they were fastened to a +stake. + +The Moorish horseman and the odalisk ascend a high funereal mound, the +tombstone of which is barely visible through the dependent branches of a +weeping willow. + +"Something more than a slave must rest beneath that stone," whispered +Azrael to the quaking horseman; and placing her magic tripod on the +tomb, she ignited with a phosphorous pellet the powdered ambergris and +borax, which flickered up and cast a whitish glare all around the grave. + +There was a slight rustle in the distance. The Corsar's horse neighed +uneasily. + +"What was that?" asked the Corsar. + +"The Jins," replied Azrael; "look not behind thee." + +With that she raised her magic staff, and pronounced in unintelligible +words the exorcism over the grave. + +"Thou restless spirit, appear at my bidding. Wherever thou art, beneath +the dark tree of Hell, or in the garden of the Houris; whether thou dost +pine in chains of fire or dost recline on beds of roses, obey my voice, +fly through the air, dissipate the darkness, and appear before me in the +mortal shape thou didst wear on earth. Appear!" + +With these words she struck with her staff upon the stone slab, and +immediately a lofty shape in a white winding-sheet rose up from behind +the tomb. + +"Now advance three steps forward and speak to it," cried Azrael to the +confounded Moor. + +With tottering footsteps Corsar Beg approached the shape, and cried with +a hoarse, trembling voice-- + +"My name is Corsar Beg. Who then art thou, accursed spirit?" + +"I am Balassa," replied the shape with a sonorous voice; and casting +aside the white winding-sheet, a powerfully-built, fair-complexioned man +appeared with a drawn sword in his hand. "Corsar Beg, you are my +prisoner," cried he to the Turk, who stood there in his bewilderment as +if turned to stone. + +The next moment the Beg put his hand to his side, and not finding his +sword there, rushed back with a howl of fury to his horse, threw himself +like lightning into the saddle, and struck his sharp spurs into the +flanks of his steed. But Oglan held the reins firmly between his teeth, +and when the horse tried to start off, the panther planted his front +paws firmly into the ground, and forced it back again. + +"To hell with thee, accursed monster!" roared the Beg, foaming with +rage, and striking at the panther with his fist; but the beast tugged +the halter first to the right and then to left, and stopped the horse in +its flight; terrified it with his leaps and bounds, and forced it to go +round and round. + +"Speak to this monster, Azrael!" cried the Beg. He turned round to look +for his favourite, and he beheld her nestling lovingly in Balassa's +bosom, with her snow-white arms encircling the young Hungarian's neck. +At the same instant the woods all around teemed with life; the ambushed +Hungarian soldiers rushed forth and tore the Beg from his horse, who, +even when forced to the ground, tried to defend himself with stones. + +"Be accursed!" gasped the vanquished freebooter. + +The attacking squadrons marched before his very eyes through the secret +passage into the fortress, and an hour later he could see, by the light +of his burning palace, his favourite Azrael mounting up behind Balassa, +and disdaining to bestow so much as a glance at the discomfited Beg. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER. + + +Several years have elapsed since Apafi became a Prince. We have reached +that period when the unexpected death of Nicolas Zrinyi dissolved the +faction of the malcontent Hungarians, compelling most of them to +emigrate into Transylvania, which land, owing to the ceaseless +antagonism of the German Emperor and the Turkish Sultan, was allowed to +enjoy an independent government. It paid indeed a tribute to the Sublime +Porte; but it adopted what measures it chose in its own Diet, and if the +Tartars occasionally reduced a few villages to ashes, that was only +another proof that they no longer regarded the land as their own +property. All the strongholds were in the hands of the Prince. He could +keep as many soldiers as his purse would pay for, wage war with +whomsoever he could cope, and hoodwink the Turks whenever it pleased him +so to do. The Turk had nothing to find fault with, either in the +constitution of the land, its peculiar privileges, its patriarchal +aristocracy, its Latin language, and its Hungarian dolman; or, again, in +its manifold religions and its three distinct[24] and self-governing +nationalities. All these things did not trouble him in the least. At +most he pitied the poor gentlemen who made such a muddle of affairs of +state; but he never made the slightest attempt to initiate them into his +own much simpler political system. + + [Footnote 24: _Viz._ the Saxons, the Szeklers, and the + Magyars. The Wallachs simply cultivated the soil.] + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, great changes had taken place at Ebesfalva. The dwelling of +the Prince no longer consisted of a simple manor-house. On a +neighbouring hill he had had a castle built with lofty, square towers, +from the corners of which rose still loftier turrets. The entrance was +guarded by two proudly rampant stone lions. On the facade, in bold +relief, was carved the inscription: _Fata viam inveniunt_. A vestibule, +connecting one wing of the castle with the other, and surrounded by a +richly-gilded and ornamented trellis-work, runs along the front of the +castle on huge, classically-carved stone pillars. The windows are all in +the Perpendicular style, with old-fashioned ornaments, and you reach the +inner courtyard by a subterranean corridor. + +In this courtyard, instead of ploughs and wagons, our eye falls upon +arquebusses and culverins. Instead of peasants, we see body-guards, in +yellow dolmans and scarlet hose, swaggering before the doors. To reach +the Prince's cabinet, one must traverse long corridors and re-echoing +saloons, in which pages, footmen, and gentlemen of the bedchamber +announce the newcomer from door to door, and when one has finally +reached the reception-chamber, it is only to see, after all, not the +Prince, but the Prince's chief councillor, Master Michael Teleki, the +same bald-headed man whom we first met at Csakatorny, at that memorable +hunt where Nicolas Zrinyi met his death. At that time the worthy +gentleman was only one of Prince George Rakoczy's disgraced ex-captains; +but since then a kind Providence has taken him by the hand, and he is +now Captain-General of Koevar, and the Prince's omnipotent prime +minister. His mother was the Princess's sister, and his aunt, whom he +always calls sister (women seldom take offence at such mistakes), +introduced him to her consort. Once near the Prince, Teleki needed no +one's good word. His comprehensive intellect, vast knowledge, and +statesmanlike dexterity made him indispensable to the Prince, who loved +to bury himself among his books and his antiquities, and felt aggrieved +when anything tore him away from his family circle or his favourite +studies. + +To-day, too, his reception-room is crammed to suffocation by gentlemen +who seek an audience of his Highness. They are the fugitive Hungarians, +of whom the Prince seems to stand in peculiar horror. These restless, +bellicose, dark-browed people are an abomination to the easy-going, +contemplative Prince. So he shuts himself up in his study, and the only +person admitted to his presence is the learned and reverend John +Passai, Professor at Nagy-Enyed, beloved by the Prince on account of +his profound scholarship. + +Apafi's private room is more like the study of a scholar than the +cabinet of a ruler. All around stands filled with books in gilded +bindings hide the walls, and in every corner lie heaps of plans and +charts. In the very circumscribed intervening spaces stand consoles with +clocks upon them, which the Prince always winds up himself; and the +chairs and sofas are so overladen with books for immediate use, that +whenever the Prince has a confidential visitor, he hardly knows where to +bestow him. Nay, sometimes the stone floor itself is so bestrewn with +outspread maps, dusty MSS., and open folios, that Teleki, when he +enters, has to walk as circumspectly as one who picks his way +circuitously through mud and mire. + +The two gentlemen are at the present moment standing before the table, +which is covered with all sorts of ancient coins. Apafi wears a short +grey coat with loose sleeves, which is fastened round his loins by a +silken cord. His headgear consists of a round skin cap. Passai is +buttoned up in a dark-green, fur-lined mente, which reaches from his +chin to his heels. His thick white hair is shoved back and held together +by a large circular comb. His face, despite the wrinkles which cover it, +is fresh and ruddy, and his teeth are as perfect as those of a youth. + +Apafi is attentively regarding a gold piece, which he poises between his +fingers and holds against the light. Passai stands hat in hand before +the Prince like a log, with his wrinkled countenance fixed intently on +his Highness. + +Apafi petulantly turns and twists the coin in all directions. + +"These are not Roman letters," he angrily murmurs; "neither are they +Greek nor Cyrillic, and least of all Hunnish symbols. Where was it +found?" he asked, turning to Passai. + +"In Vasarhely, as the Wallachs were removing the ruins of the old +temple." + +"Deuce take them! They might have been better employed." + +"It was a very ancient ruin, what they call a Roman temple." + +"But it cannot have been a Roman temple, for this is not a Roman coin." + +"That's my opinion too; but the Wallachs have a way of regarding all +the ruins in Transylvania as Roman monuments." + +"But why did they take it to pieces?" + +"The villagers wanted to make lime of the statues." + +"The impious wretches!" cried Apafi indignantly, "to turn such precious +masterpieces of art into lime. And you have not striven to save at least +a part of it from destruction?" + +"I bought the lid of a sarcophagus adorned with sculptures, and a sphinx +in a perfect state of preservation; but the Wallach who was charged with +their removal was too lazy to have them lifted up as they stood, so he +broke up the statues into five or six pieces, so that he might have less +trouble in loading his cart." + +"That man deserves to be impaled. I will issue a decree that no one +shall henceforth lay a hand upon such antiquities." + +"I am afraid your Highness will arrive too late, for when the people +found that I was paying for these stones, the belief spread among them +that I was seeking for diamonds and carbuncles therein, so they smashed +the whole mass into such tiny morsels that they could now be offered for +sale as sand." + +"Have you spoken to that nobleman of Deva about the mosaic?" + +"He won't part with it at any price. He said that none of his ancestors +had ever carried their property to market. If only he would remove it +from the place where he found it, it would be something. But he won't +even do that, and now the cow-house stands over it, and the oxen make +their beds on the prostrate figures of Venus and Cupid." + +"I should very much like to confiscate that man's property, and so come +into possession of that priceless curiosity," cried Apafi, with a +scholar's zeal, and again he busied himself with the investigation of +the enigmatical letters. + +At that moment Teleki entered the room with a busy, important look, and +drawing from his silken pocket a MS. roll, placed it open in Apafi's +hand. The Prince made as though he were reading the document +attentively, and wrinkled his brows. Suddenly he looked up and exclaimed +joyfully-- + +"They are Dacian letters!" + +"What!" cried Teleki, opening his eyes wide in his astonishment. He was +at a loss to explain how the Prince could have found Dacian letters in +the Latin MS. which he had just put into his hands. + +"Yes; there can be no doubt about it," continued the Prince. "I +recollect reading somewhere--in Dion Cassius, I think--that the Romans, +after the fall of Decebalus,[25] had commemorative medallions struck off +with Dacian inscriptions, and the figure of a decapitated man on the +reverse. Don't you see the emblem?" + + [Footnote 25: _Decebalus_. King of Dacia during the + reigns of Domitian, Nerva, and Trajan.] + +"But your Highness," interrupted Teleki impatiently, "the memorial which +I have handed to you----" + +And now for the first time Apafi perceived that a parchment was in his +hand awaiting perusal. He returned it sulkily to Teleki. + +"I have already told you that I can speak to no one to-day. In a month +the session of the Diet will begin, and then the Hungarian gentlemen can +ventilate their affairs to their hearts' content." + +"I cry your Highness' pardon!" replied Teleki caustically; "this +document is not from the Hungarian lords, but from his Excellency the +Tartar Khan." + +"And what does he want?" cried Apafi, throwing a glance upon the +parchment, but when he perceived how long it was he laid it aside. "I +will be brief with him. Who brought the letter?" + +"An emir." + +Apafi immediately threw his attila over his shoulders, girded on his +sword, and stepped into the reception-room. + +"Good-day! good-day!" he cried hastily to those assembled there. He +wished to cut short their long ceremonious greetings, and looked about +among them with inquiring eyes. + +"Where is the emir?" + +The Tartar envoy at once stepped forward. He was a truculent, swarthy +fellow, with small sparkling eyes. A heron's plume as long as the shaft +of a lance waved from his large turban. He wore a red, richly-fringed +jacket, and the gold inlaid hilt of his scimitar peeped forth from his +broad girdle. Defiantly he placed himself in front of the Prince and +stuck out his chest. + +"_Salem alek!_ What do you want?" asked Apafi curtly. + +The emir measured the Prince from head to foot twice or thrice with his +piercing eyes, threw back his head, and said-- + +"My master, the gracious Kuban Khan, bids me say to thee, O Prince of +the Giaours, that thou art a perjured, false, and faithless man. Thou +didst swear by thy honour that we should be good neighbours, and how +hast thou kept thy word? It chanced last year that we traversed the +Saxon[26] land, and visited those towns whose names no true believer can +pronounce, to collect the usual yearly tribute. They were ever good +payers, but some among them chancing to lag behind with their +contributions were, by the order of the most gracious Khan, instantly +reduced to ashes that they might learn to behave better another time. +And perchance thou dost fancy that they amended their evil ways? Not at +all. For when we visited them again this year, we found the charred and +naked walls as we had left them the year before: the unbelieving dogs +had traitorously fled away. Wherefore my gracious master, the mighty +Kuban Khan, bids me ask thee what manner of prince thou art that dost +suffer these unbelieving dogs to so forsake their towns and make fools +of us. When we came at other times, the hay was housed, the corn +thrashed, the cattle stalled--and this time we find nought but weeds, +and therein hares and other unclean beasts which ye unbelievers delight +to eat, and none of the towns built up again, so that we could take no +vengeance. Look to it, then, if thou wouldst not draw down upon thy head +the wrath of the mighty Khan, look to it that thou commandest this +runaway people to return to its towns that we may reckon with them; and +in the meantime bid the remaining Saxon towns, which have faithlessly +environed their houses with impregnable walls, that they open their +gates to us, otherwise we will visit thee in Klausenburg itself with +fire and sword, and will not leave thee one stone upon another." + + [Footnote 26: _Saxons_. Geza II. (1141-1161) planted in + Transylvania a German colony to clear the forests and + till the lands. These so-called Saxons have survived to + the present day, and reside chiefly at Hermannstadt.] + +Apafi, during the course of this speech, had frequently laid his hand on +his sword, but he evidently thought better of it, for it was with the +utmost tranquillity that he thus replied-- + +"Go back! Greet thy master, and say that we will give him satisfaction." + +With that he turned his back upon the envoy, and would have returned to +his cabinet had not Teleki barred the way. + +"That is not enough, your Highness. Once for all we must make it +impossible for any dog-headed Tartar to speak such brave words before +the throne of the Prince of Transylvania." + +"Speak to him then yourself!" + +Teleki thereupon, with an earnest, dignified mien, stepped up to the +emir, stared him out of countenance, and said with a firm voice-- + +"Thy master is doubtless the ruler of Tartary, but is not my master the +Prince of Transylvania? And is not the sublime Sultan the protector of +us both? Know then that the sublime Sultan did not make thy master Khan +of Tartary that he might dwell in Transylvania, nor has he set my master +on the throne of Transylvania to endure the insolence of thy master! Go +back then to thine own land, and come not hither again to wonder why a +town which is burnt down one year is not built up again the next. We +will take good care that all such places are rebuilt, but we will also +see that the bastions are high enough to keep thee out, and shouldst +thou desire to visit us at Klausenburg next year, we will also take care +that thou shalt not have thy journey for nothing, and will provide guns +in abundance to salute thee at a respectful distance." + +All this Teleki said to the emir with a perfectly serious countenance. + +The emir snorted with fury. His eyes grew bloodshot. His hand played +with the hilt of his scimitar, and he stammered with pallid lips-- + +"If any of my master's servants spoke thus in his presence, he would +immediately have his head struck off." + +But Apafi tapped Teleki on the shoulder, and murmured as he stroked his +beard-- + +"It is well, Master Michael Teleki! You have spoken like a man." + +The emir turned furiously upon his heel, and, shaking the dust from his +feet, left the room. + +This scene put Apafi in a good humour, especially with Teleki. The +minister could read this change of mood in his master's face, and +hastened to make use of it. Taking one of the many suitors by the hand, +he presented him to Apafi with these words-- + +"My future son-in-law, your Highness." + +Apafi would probably have escaped from a presentation made in any other +way; but made in this form he could not possibly avoid it. He was +compelled to cast a glance upon the young man. + +The person so presented was a tall, handsome stripling with blooming red +cheeks and no trace, as yet, of a beard. In his femininely beautiful +features, it was pride alone which revealed the man. + +The youth pleased Apafi. + +"What is your son-in-law's name?" he asked Teleki. + +With a peculiar smile Teleki said-- + +"Emerich, Stephen Toekoely's son." + +On hearing this name, Apafi suddenly became very grave, and said to the +young man-- + +"Your father was a good friend to me"--and yet he did not extend his +hand to the son. + +"I know it," replied the youth, "and for that reason I have come to your +Highness." + +"But your late father--God rest him!--was an unruly spirit. It is well +that you have not followed in his footsteps. He was never happy unless +he was fighting. The thunder of artillery was a vital necessity to him, +and the last hours of his life were spent at a siege. Well for you that +you do not imitate him! You seem to me a very steady, quiet sort of +young man." + +"Oh! such praise as that I'm sure I don't deserve," replied Toekoely +proudly; "I also was at the siege you speak of, and defended the +fortress till my father died." + +Apafi did not like to be interrupted in this way, but, meaning to show +his sympathy, he added, after a pause-- + +"And how then did you manage to escape, my son?" + +Emerich blushed deeply and would not answer; but Teleki, by way of +correcting his young kinsman's intemperate zeal, answered +apologetically-- + +"The fact is, he was then very young, so they disguised him in woman's +clothes, and he was thus able to elude the vigilance of the besiegers." + +Apafi immediately recovered his good-humour. He playfully stroked the +youth's blood-red cheeks, and signified to Teleki that he might now +introduce the other gentlemen also. + +They were all fugitives from Hungary, and the Prince did his best to +appear gracious towards them; but, in the meantime, one of the court +ushers entered and announced with a loud voice-- + +"His Excellency Monsieur l'Abbe Reverend, the French Envoy, desires an +audience." + +This announcement again filled Apafi with embarrassment. He drew Teleki +aside and whispered in his ear-- + +"I will not, I cannot receive him. Go out and speak to him yourself, and +explain how matters stand." And with that he hastily quitted the +reception-room, delighted at having this time shifted the difficulty on +to Teleki's shoulders; but he remained listening at the door to find out +whether there would be any violent explosion behind his back. + +And an explosion there certainly was, though not of a particularly +terrifying character. + +The Prince heard Teleki burst into a jovial peal of laughter, whereupon +all the gentlemen present with one accord followed his example, just as +if they were taking part in some intensely amusing diversion. + +"It must indeed be a very peculiar phenomenon which extorts such +extravagant merriment from these sour-faced gentry," thought Apafi, and +he half opened the door--he could not quite open it, because learned +Master Passai, ordinarily a miracle of gravity, had so given himself up +to mirth that he was forced to lean back against the Prince's cabinet. + +"Let me come in, Master Passai!" cried the inquisitive Prince, and +succeeding shortly afterwards in opening the door, the cause of the +general mirth was immediately obvious to him. + +The Abbe Reverend stood in the centre of the room in full Hungarian +costume. A more comical figure was scarcely conceivable. + +The worthy gentleman, who rejoiced in the possession of a really +redoubtable corporation, standing there, clean shaven and benignly +smiling, presented an amiably ludicrous figure, of which only an +Hungarian, or one who knows what a severe criterion of the human figure +the tight-fitting Magyar costume really is, can form any idea. Add to +this that the worthy Frenchman, in his stiff hose and spurred +jack-boots, moved about as gingerly as if he feared every moment to fall +on his nose. He had also forgotten to buckle on his girdle, which lent a +peculiar quaintness to his general get-up, and his long bag-wig, in +which he looked like a lion, was surmounted by a tiny round cap from +which waved a gigantic heron plume. + +Apafi did not see why he too should not smile when the others laughed. + +Monsieur Reverend, with that facility peculiar to Frenchmen of coupling +gaiety with solemnity, tripped at once up to the Prince and said-- + +"Your Highness's persistent refusal to receive me made me assume that +perchance I did not present myself becomingly attired, and my present +good-fortune demonstrates the correctness of my assumption, for the +moment I present myself in Magyar costume I am lucky enough to behold +you." + +"Parbleu, Monsieur!" returned Apafi, repressing his merriment with +difficulty, "I am always glad to see you on condition that politics are +banished from our discourse. But you have not fastened on your scarf, +and without the scarf a person in the Magyar dress looks for all the +world like a Frenchman who has forgotten to put on his breeches." + +With these words the Prince produced a scarf adorned with gems, and tied +it with his own hands round the respectable waist of Monsieur Reverend. + +"And what's this? Who taught you to stuff your pocket-handkerchief into +your trousers pocket? Only heydukes do that. What the deuce! A nobleman +always keeps his pocket-handkerchief in his kalpag. So! Hem! What a +beautiful pocket-handkerchief you've got!" + +"Splendid, is it not?" + +"Indeed it is! A garland pattern in silk thread, with gold and silver +embroideries at the corners. Only Paris can produce the like of this." + +"And yet it was manufactured in Transylvania." + +"You don't say so?" + +"Yes; and what is more, in this very place, in Ebesfalva." + +Apafi looked at Monsieur Reverend with amazement. + +"And I not to know the artistic hands which work such beautiful things!" + +"But your Highness does know them. The name of the fair artist will be +found embroidered in gorgeous Gothic letters on the hem of the +handkerchief." + +Apafi carefully examined all the corners of the handkerchief one after +the other. Each had a different device embroidered on it--here a wreath +of oak-leaves, there a trophy, in the third a Turkish scimitar, an +Hungarian sabre, and a French sword bound together by a ribbon. At last +he came to the fourth corner, where, beneath a princely coronet, was +embroidered the word _Apafine_.[27] + + [Footnote 27: _Apafine_ = Lady Apafi. The "ne" is a + feminine suffix.] + +The Prince read the name aloud. All who stood around looked at Apafi's +face with fearful suspense, as if they expected an explosion of wrath. +To every one's surprise, however, the Prince only smiled, stuck the +pocket-handkerchief into Monsieur Reverend's kalpag, cocked it rakishly +on the ambassador's head, and said to him with peculiar _bonhomie_-- + +"So you have succeeded in seducing my wife, eh?" + +Reverend laughed awkwardly at what was a rather ambiguous jest so far as +he was concerned. + +"Me, however, you shall not seduce," added Apafi, smiling. + +Reverend bowed deeply; then, throwing back his head, he observed +archly-- + +"That will be brought about also, I hope, though by mightier than I." + +At that moment the door opened and a servant announced--"Her Highness, +Dame Anna of Bornemissa, his Highness's consort, desires an audience of +the Prince." + +Apafi looked at Teleki. + +"This is all your doing." + +Teleki calmly replied--"It is, your Highness." + +"You have besieged us in form?" + +"I do not deny it, your Highness." + +"It was you who brought the ambassador to the Princess?" + +"Such is indeed the case, your Highness." + +"And it was you who then advised him to present himself in this +masquerade in order to lure me hither more easily?" + +"I did it all, your Highness." + +"Then you have done a very foolish thing, Master Michael Teleki." + +"That remains to be seen, your Highness," replied the minister proudly, +conscious of his own intellectual superiority. + +Meanwhile Dame Apafi had entered the room; her princely robes well +became her princely aspect. All the gentlemen present hastened forward +to do her homage. But Apafi also advanced quickly towards her, put his +arm through hers, and with marked tenderness endeavoured to lead her +into his cabinet. + +"No; let us remain here," cried the Princess; "there will be plenty of +time later on to look at your Dutch clocks. Far more serious matters +claim our attention first. These gentlemen from Hungary desire an +audience." + +Apafi exploded at once. + +"I know beforehand what they want, and I have declared once for all that +I will hear no more of the matter." + +"But you will surely listen to me. I too am an Hungarian woman, and in +the name of my fatherland I implore the Prince of Transylvania for help. +None shall say that I rule the Prince in secret. Look now, I advance +openly before his throne, and I beg of him protection for Hungary, whose +sons are called strangers in Transylvania, though I, her daughter, am +the Princess." + +From Apafi's looks it was clear that he would much rather have listened +to the Hungarian gentlemen than to his own consort. But he was caught in +a trap. She stood before him as a petitioner. There was no escape. + +Teleki bade the pages in waiting at the door admit no one else. Apafi, +with a gesture of impatience, sat down in an arm-chair, and resigned +himself to listen to his consort; but Anna had scarcely commenced to +speak, when the rattling of a coach was heard in the courtyard, and +shortly afterwards heavy footsteps resounded in the corridors, and a +stern, dictatorial voice, with which every one appeared to be familiar, +asked if the Prince was in. The pages said No, and tried to stop the +intruder, but exclaiming, "Out of my way, you brats!" he burst open the +door and forced his way into the room. It was none other than Denis +Banfi. + +He had just descended from his carriage. His cheeks were much redder +than usual, and his eyes sparkled. He went straight towards the Prince +and cried, without the slightest preamble-- + +"Do not listen to these gentlemen, your Highness! Do not listen to a +single word." + +The Prince smiled and greeted Banfi. + +"God preserve you, my cousin," said he. + +"Pardon me, your Highness, if in my great haste I neglected to salute +you; but when I heard that the Hungarian gentlemen were here in +audience, I was quite beside myself with rage. What do you want?" +continued he, turning towards the Hungarians; "not satisfied, I suppose, +with ruining your own country with your unruliness, you must needs come +hither to disturb us likewise?" + +"You speak of us," remarked Teleki, with quiet sarcasm, "as if we +belonged to some outlandish Tartar stock, and as if we had been cast +hither from heaven only knows what sort of savage, distant land." + +"On the contrary, I know you only too well, ye Hungarian lords. I speak +of you as men whose turbulence has, time out of mind, been ruinous to +Transylvania. The people of Hungary are idiots one and all." + +"I beg you not to lose sight of the fact that I too am one of them," +said the Princess. + +"I know it; and it is with anything but satisfaction that I see the will +of your Highness predominant here." + +Dame Apafi, with an expression of wounded dignity, turned towards her +brother-in-law. + +"Whatever you may say, I will not cease to be your good kinswoman and +well-wisher," and with these words she quitted the room. + +"You might at least have addressed the Prince more becomingly," remarked +Teleki, sharply. + +"Have I then spoken one word to the Prince?" asked Banfi, shrugging his +shoulders. "How can I even reach his Highness when you are always +standing in the way? I am and always will be the enemy of those who have +no right whatever to stand on the steps of the throne, and you are one +of them, Master Michael Teleki. Oh, don't imagine that the reasons which +make you so enthusiastic in the Hungarian cause are hidden from me. You +are not content with being the first in Transylvania after the Prince; +you would fain become Palatine of Hungary[28] as well. Ha! ha! how you +all befool one another. The French promise aid to the Hungarians; the +Hungarians promise Teleki the dignity of Palatine; Teleki promises Apafi +a kingly crown, and ye lie, the whole lot of you; ye deceive and are +deceived." + + [Footnote 28: _Palatine_ (Hungarian: "_Nador_"). The + Palatine was the highest dignitary in Hungary after the + King. The dignity was instituted soon after the year + 1000, but since 1848 has been found incompatible with + modern parliamentary government.] + +"Sir," replied Teleki, bitterly, "is that the way to speak to guests, to +exiled, unhappy fellow-countrymen?" + +"Don't teach me how to be generous," retorted Banfi, proudly. "At my +house the poor and the persecuted have ever found an asylum, and if +these fugitive gentlemen wish us to share house and home with them, I'm +ready to do so. Here's my hand upon it. But just as I should be out of +my senses to burn my own house down, so now too I protest against the +conflagration of my country; and if you do not cease from troubling a +peaceful land, I'll leave no stone unturned till I have driven you all +out." + +"We ought not to be surprised at this tone, my friends," said Teleki, +with bitter scorn, turning towards the Hungarians. "His Excellency here +has been so very recently amnestied by the Prince, that he imagines he +is still at war with us." + +Apafi, who had been sitting on burning coals, now interposed. + +"Cease this bickering. We dismiss you all. You see that sundry of our +councillors are against the matter, and without their consent I can do +nothing." + +"Then," cried Teleki, with solemn emphasis, "we appeal to the Diet." + +"I too will be there," said Banfi. + +The Prince, very much offended, withdrew to his cabinet. The Hungarian +nobles, much excited, went out by the other door. Teleki remained +behind. Banfi, adjusting his marten-skin cap, haughtily measured his +opponent from head to foot, and exclaimed ironically as he went out--"I +leave my reputation behind me!" Teleki returned his gaze with the most +nonchalant sangfroid. + +When every one had disappeared, Teleki whispered some words to a page, +who went out and returned in a few moments with a florid, curly-headed +young man. Methinks we have seen this youth somewhere or other before, +though only for an instant which we cannot call to mind. A beggar's sack +hangs down over his ragged clothing, his hand holds a knobby stick. + +"So you permit me at last to approach the Prince?" said he, in a +somewhat dictatorial tone. + +"Sit down here by the door," replied the minister; "the Prince goes to +dinner shortly, and will pass by this way. You can then speak to him." + +The young man with the beggar's sack sat for a long time at the Prince's +door, till Apafi came out of his room on his way to dinner. The beggar +with the knapsack planted himself right in his Highness's way. + +"Who are you?" asked the Prince, much surprised. + +"I am that renowned warrior, Emerich Balassa, who once was one of the +chief men of Hungary, and now stands before your Highness with the +beggar's staff." + +"You were involved, I understand, in that conspiracy against us?" said +Apafi, disagreeably flurried. + +"That I was not, your Highness. If you would deign to listen to my tale, +then----" + +"Speak!" + +"There was once in Hungary a famous Turkish freebooter, named Corsar +Beg, who for a long time ravaged the mountain regions. The banded might +of six counties was insufficient to besiege him in his fortress. This +man I captured by subtlety. By promises and flatteries I won over his +favourite slave, who enticed him out of his stronghold by night and +alone. I, duly advertised thereof, fell upon him with horsemen ambushed +in the woods, and took captive both him and his slave, who is the most +beautiful and the most abandoned of her sex in the whole world." + +"I have heard of you, Master Balassa. It was a daring deed." + +"Listen further, your Highness. No sooner had the news of my capture +spread abroad, than the Palatine of Hungary, very emphatically, insisted +upon my handing over the prisoners to him. The Turks had already offered +me a ransom of sixteen thousand ducats for the pair, but I would not +part with the girl at any price. I therefore sent word to the Palatine +that if he wanted a Beg of his own he must catch one, for I had not +captured mine on his account." + +Apafi laughed heartily. "That was one for him!" + +"Thereupon the Palatine waxed wroth, and by the Emperor's command sent +out troops against me to rob me of my captives. Now just at this very +time, your Highness's brother-in-law, Denis Banfi, had taken refuge in +my castle, and to him I entrusted the slave, of whom I was madly +enamoured. He was to fly with her to my castle of Ecsed, and as I saw +that the Palatine was bent upon securing Corsar Beg for himself in order +to cut off his head at Buda as a warning to all malefactors, I gave the +Turk poison, which he, to escape the scaffold, thankfully accepted. +When, therefore, the troops of the Palatine arrived at my house, all +that they found there was the cold corpse, which the Turks afterwards +purchased from me for a thousand ducats." + +"The Palatine was naturally very angry, I suppose?" remarked Apafi. + +"'Twas I who had cause to be angry, for all through him I lost fifteen +thousand ducats, and yet he succeeded in obtaining an order for my +apprehension from the Emperor. I scented the danger in time, and got +together my valuables in order to fly into Transylvania, and remain +there till the affair had blown over. First of all, then, I hastened to +my castle at Ecsed, whither, as I have said, I had sent Banfi on +beforehand with the Turkish slave. While still on the way, I learnt that +Banfi had been restored by your Highness's amnesty to his former +position. I rejoiced greatly thereat, supposing that I now had in him a +powerful protector. Nevertheless, on reaching Ecsed, I found no sign or +trace of the girl. My castellan there informed me that Banfi had carried +her off with him, and left a letter behind for me, which contained the +following words--'Learn from this, my friend, that there are three +things you should never entrust to another--your horse, your watch, and +your mistress!'" + +"What!" cried Apafi; "is this really true?" + +"Pray let your Highness look at his own writing," and he drew the letter +in question out of his leather knapsack. "He is said to have concealed +the girl somewhere in his forests at Banfi-Hunyad." + +Apafi turned scarlet with rage. + +"'Tis monstrous!" cried he. "This fellow possesses a virtuous and lovely +wife of his own--my consort's own sister--and yet he can so far forget +his duty as a husband! I'll not put up with it!" + +"Pardon me, your Highness; I have nothing more to do with Banfi now. My +complaint is against one Kapi, who had the usufruct of my Transylvanian +property. Not wishing, then, to have anything more to do with Banfi, I +took up my quarters with Kapi at Aranyosi Castle. Your Highness, the +pomp which that man displays exceeds anything that I have ever seen, and +I have seen many princely and palatinal courts in my day. His wife never +uses her feet at all. Even if she wants to get to the door, she is +carried thither in a gilded sedan-chair, and she never wears a dress +more than once!" + +"But what have I to do with the frippery of Dame Kapi?" + +"I'm coming to that. Her love of display costs money, and has compelled +her husband to resort to fraudulent practices. And besides, such +extravagance concerns your Highness also, as tending to emphasize the +contrast already apparent between the frugal simplicity of your +Highness's court and the dazzling pomp of these petty kings--a contrast +which has already made a pretty deep impression upon our foreign +visitors. Thus, quite recently, the Bavarian minister, who had come from +a banquet at Ebesfalva to Aranyosi, remarked in a flattering tone to +Dame Kapi, in my hearing, that she was the real Princess of +Transylvania." + +"He said that, did he?" cried the Prince, becoming much interested. "Go +on with your narrative. So he said that Kapi's wife was the real +Princess, eh?" + +"Yet strip from off her her costly pearls and diamonds, and you will see +that in regard to beauty and majesty she is not fit to lace the shoes of +her Highness the Princess Apafi." + +"Go on! go on!" + +"Well, one fine day this same Kapi came to me, and told me that your +Highness had been commanded by the Palatine to arrest and deliver me +over to him." + +"I receive a command! I know absolutely nothing about it." + +"Unfortunately I believed his words, and imagining myself caught between +two fires, I made over my Transylvanian property to Kapi to save it from +confiscation, he at the same time delivering to me an undertaking to +re-transfer the estates as soon as possible. Meanwhile I resolved to fly +to Poland, and stay there till the storm blew over. Kapi gave me two +guides, who were to conduct me through the mountain-passes to the +frontier; but at the same time he secretly informed the frontier +sentinels that I was a spy sent by the Emperor to explore Transylvania, +and was now desirous of returning unobserved. So the rogues waylaid me, +robbed me of all my money and papers, and dragged me to Fehervar, where +my innocence came to light, but my money and papers were of course +hopelessly lost. And now this Kapi actually maintains that I sold him +all my property, and I've nothing in the world but this leather knapsack +round my neck, with which I must now beg my way about." + +"Be of good cheer. I will give you the most exemplary satisfaction," +returned the enraged Prince. + +"It is a matter which also concerns your Highness's own dignity," +replied Balassa. "These great lords behave in as high-handed a fashion +as if they had absolutely no superior." + +"Be easy. I will very soon show them who is the real Prince of +Transylvania." + +Apafi, full of indignation, then left the audience-chamber. + +A storm was gathering over the heads of two great men who stood in +Teleki's way. + + + + +BOOK II. + +THE DEVIL'S GARDEN. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE PATROL. + + +Clement the Clerk stuck his pen behind his ear and recited to himself +the elegant verses which he had just composed, two hundred strophes in +all, almost every line of which ended in _fuerat_, with a sporadic +_fuisset_ in between. + +Michael Apafi used regularly to repent whenever he had offended any one, +and he therefore could not rest till he had compensated the itinerant +scholar Clement for the snub he had administered to him, and this he did +by making the unsophisticated poet his----Patrol-officer. + +In those days many agreeable duties were connected with this +office--duties which Clement simply left alone, devoting himself instead +to the composition of epics and chronicles, which he manufactured in +great abundance. + +At that moment he was casting his eyes over a great epic, in which he +recorded how his Highness, Prince Michael Apafi, had gone out against +Ersekujvar to besiege it; how with splendid valour he had arrived there; +how, on beholding the foe, he had drawn his sword; how, after mature +deliberation, he had turned back again; and how, finally, he and all his +heroes had returned home again safe and sound. + +Poetic distraction had so completely absorbed the faculties of Clement +the Clerk, that a week had already elapsed since his servant had made +off with his master's spurred jack-boots, without the latter, in his +capacity of Patrol-officer, thinking of pursuing the runaway; but in +fact he was confined within a vicious circle, inasmuch as every time he +thought of inquiring for his boots, it occurred to him that his servant +had stolen them; and every time he thought of going out and inquiring +for his servant, it occurred to him that he had no boots. What could he +do then under such circumstances but sit down again, and write poems in +absolutely endless quantities? + +His room had not been swept out for weeks, naturally therefore there was +no lack of dust and cobwebs; but, by way of contrast, the deal floor all +around the solitary table was mottled with ink-blots. The table itself +had only two legs, the place of the others being supplied by layers of +bricks. + +The poet scribbles, erases, and nibbles at his pen; on the window-sill +lies a piece of bread and some cheese; it occurs to the poet that it has +been put there for him to eat; but first he must use up the ink still +remaining in his pen, and in doing so another idea occurs to him, and +after that a third, and then a fourth; meanwhile mice come skipping out +of a hole beneath the window-sill, frisk about the bread and cheese, +nibble away at it till not a morsel remains, and then skip back into +their holes again. The poet having wearied out his Pegasus, starts up, +looks for his bread and cheese, and perceiving that only the crumbs +remain on the window-sill, concludes that he has already eaten his fill, +so sits him down again and goes on writing. + +While he is thus plaguing himself for the benefit of posterity, somebody +begins scratching at the door, and after groping about the door-hinge in +search of the door-latch, finds it at last, and shakes it to and fro as +if he does not know what to do with it. This disturbance disagreeably +awakens Clement the Clerk out of his poetic reveries, who, after vainly +exclaiming in a loud and angry voice that the door is not bolted, finds +himself at last obliged to rise from his seat and open the door himself, +lest the importunate visitor should break off the latch or lift the door +bodily from its hinges. + +Before him, with a sealed letter in his hand, stands a gaping Wallach +peasant, who appears extraordinarily terrified to see the door open, +though that was the very thing he had been aiming at all along. + +"Well, what is it?" snapped Clement the Clerk, horribly angry. "Why +don't you speak?" + +The Wallach raised his round eyebrows, which looked, for all the world, +like a charcoal smear extending from his nostrils to his temples, and +which also served him as a kind of propeller for shoving backwards and +forwards the lamb's-wool cap that he wore half over his face, looked at +the poet with wide-open eyes, and asked him-- + +"Are you he whom they pay to tell lies?" + +The Wallach meant no offence by this terminology. It was only his +roundabout way of describing Clement the Clerk's sphere of activity. + +The poet was almost choking with rage. + +"And whose ox are you?" he exclaimed furiously. + +"The ox of his Excellency who sent this letter," he answered with +perfect simplicity. + +"What is your master's name?" cried Clement, angrily snatching the +letter out of the Wallach's hand. + +"They call him Excellency." + +Clement tore open the letter and read as follows--"I want a word or two +with you; follow the bearer whithersoever he leads you." + +Clement was wroth enough already, but the reflection that he was +summoned away on important business, and had no boots to go in, was the +last straw. He was quite beside himself. + +"Go," cried he to the Wallach, "and tell your master, whoever he may be, +that he is as near to me as I am to him; if he wants to speak to me, let +him take the trouble to come hither. Do you understand?" + +"I understand, Dumni Macska" (Mister Pussy), returned the Wallach, +involuntarily using in his fright the nickname secretly given by the +Roumanian peasants to the Patrol-officer when he is making his rounds; +and with that he slouched out of the room. + +Meanwhile Clement, with a great muscular effort, had climbed on to his +high-backed chair again, and placed two huge folios upright on the floor +in front of him, so that his coming visitor might not see that he was +bare-footed. + +In a short time strident, energetic footsteps were audible outside, and +Clement the Clerk, peeping out of the window, perceived to his no small +confusion that his visitor was none other than his Excellency, Count +Ladislaus Csaky, accompanied by two gold-laced heydukes. + +"Clement," thought the clerk to himself, "now's the time to assert your +dignity! No doubt his lordship is a great man and a high; but, on the +other hand, he is in the Prince's bad books, while you, my boy, are in +high favour at court, and a public officer to boot." So he hid his feet +behind his books, stuck his pen between his lips, and when Csaky came in +did not so much as offer him a seat. + +Csaky seemed much put out by this reception. + +"You have a very high opinion of your official dignity," said he to +Clement. + +"I am what I am thanks to the favour of the Prince," returned Clement +haughtily, crossing his arms with an air of importance. + +"I too have come hither by the Prince's command. His Highness has just +entrusted me with a very delicate errand, in which I need your help; but +the affair must be managed with the utmost secrecy, and that was why I +wanted you to come out to me." + +At this explanation Clement the Clerk forgot his dignity altogether. + +"I beg you a thousand pardons," stammered he in great confusion, and +with meekly-bowed head. "I did not know--pray be seated!" As however +there was no other chair in the room but that on which he sat, he sprang +down from it to give place to the Count, thereby revealing the fact that +his feet were minus their legitimate coverings, at which Csaky laughed +till his jaws ached. + +"Why, deuce take it, Mr. Officer, is it from a feeling of excessive +reverence that you take off your boots like the Turks do?" + +"I beg your pardon! I have not taken them off; but my servant ran away +with them while I slept, and that was the sole reason why I was forced +to send your lordship that churlish message, which I hope your lordship +has long since forgotten." + +At this Csaky's mirth became downright uproarious. + +"Well, if that is all, we will soon find a remedy," said he to Clement; +and calling the heydukes, bade them fetch at once his own parade boots +out of his carriage. + +Clement instantly began to raise objections: he could not think of it; +the honour was too great. But when his eyes fell upon the boots, they +took his fancy immediately, for they were made of the finest green +morocco, sewn with gold thread, trimmed on both sides with galloon, and +provided with enamelled spurs. + +"Quick! on with them!" cried Csaky to the Patrol-officer; "for you must +set out upon your journey without delay." + +So Clement the Clerk seized one of the boots by the tags, and after +bestowing a smile upon it, proceeded to pull it on. But this of itself +was no light labour, for Csaky wore very small, tight-fitting, +gentlemanlike boots, whereas Clement the Clerk was a very large-footed +animal; so that it was not till after three desperate struggles had +completely exhausted him that he managed to get one foot half-way down +the leg of the first boot, and all the time he made such grimaces that +Ladislaus Csaky had to put his head out of the window to hide his +merriment. When he got as far as the heel, he stuck fast again, so that +he had to seize the straps with both hands and stamp his way down, +hopping round the room all the while, with his body forming a complete +curve, and groaning aloud at every forward shove; so that by the time he +had wriggled into one boot, the eyes of the poor poet were almost +starting from their sockets, and the sweat trickled from his cheeks. + +Similar difficulties awaited the good Patrol-officer with the second +foot; but after working with six-horse power to force his foot into a +receptacle never intended for it, he was at last able, with the +ruddiness of satisfaction on his cheeks, to take a smiling survey of his +gorgeous, tight-fitting boots, which harmonized so delightfully with the +other dusty, greasy, ink-bespattered constituent parts of his dress. + +"Now, mark what I say!" said Csaky, sitting down with a lordly air on +the solitary chair, whilst the clerk, standing before him, raised first +one and then the other leg aloft, at the same time uttering a peculiar +hissing sound, and turning a livid green and blue in his agony, for the +boots had now begun to play havoc with his corns. "When did you last go +your rounds?" + +"I really don't know." + +"But you ought to know. Why don't you make a note of it? The Prince +wishes you to go your rounds at once, and you must look particularly +sharp after all the places between Toroczko, Banfi-Hunyad, and +Bonczhida. Besides the usual questions, you must ask the people whether +they have seen any foreign wild beast in the surrounding woods." + +"Foreign wild beast?" mechanically repeated the wretched Patrol-officer. + +"And if at any place they tell you they have seen such beast, you must +go personally into the districts indicated, and search till you come +upon its track." + +"I cry your Excellency's pardon! but what manner of beast may it be?" +asked the student timidly. + +"Come, come! don't be afraid! It is neither a seven-headed dragon nor +yet a minotaur, but only a young panther." + +"A panther!" stammered the terrified Clement. + +"You are not expected to catch it," said Csaky cheerily. "You have only +to discover its hiding-place and let me know." + +"And if this wild beast--whose existence indeed in Transylvania I very +much doubt--should stray into the territory of Denis Banfi," asked +Clement, "what am I to do then?" + +"You must go after it." + +"I cry your Excellency's pardon, but his property is a _liber +baronatus_, where my jurisdiction ceases." + +"Don't be so stupid, Clement," said Csaky. "I never said you were to +repair thither _vi et armis_: the whole expedition must remain a secret. +You have only to follow the wild beast's track. We have it, on the best +authority, that the beast is somewhere in the neighbourhood, and we +trust to your dexterity to spot it. The rest will be done by more +enterprising people than yourself." + +Clement regarded the mission as altogether odd and risky, but he dared +not raise any objection, so he simply bowed low and sighed deeply. + +"Above all things we must have dexterity, expedition, and secrecy. Keep +that constantly in mind." + +"I will go at once," cried Clement desperately; "but first I must borrow +me a horse from some one or other, for I should not like to utterly ruin +these beautiful boots by walking in them." + +"That too would be a little too slow for our purpose. But don't bother +your head about a horse. One of my heydukes will give you his, which you +must mount at once. Remember however to give him oats occasionally, as I +don't want him to come back all skin and bone." + +Clement the Clerk, quite confounded by so much graciousness, hastily +shouldered his shabby knapsack, fastened his rusty sword to his side, +and after placing in his knapsack a roll of parchment, a goose-quill, +and a wooden ink-horn, declared himself ready to depart. + +"You have a very light equipment," remarked Csaky. + +"_Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu_," +returned the philosopher with a classical flourish, and when the reins +had been placed in his hands, he prepared to mount. But the aristocratic +charger, as soon as he perceived that the clerk had one foot in the +stirrups, began to plunge, buck, and run round and round, thereby +compelling the aspiring poet to hop along with him on one foot, till the +laughing heydukes seized the horse by the bridle, and helped the +unpractised horseman into the saddle. As however he had very long legs, +and the wicked heydukes had lashed the stirrups up very high, he was +obliged to squat upon the horse as if it had been a camel. + +Ladislaus Csaky bawled after him once more not to forget what he had +told him, whereupon the poet, quite unintentionally, gave his horse the +spur, and dashed madly off at full tilt over stock and stone. Mantle, +sabre, and knapsack flew about the ears of the unfortunate horseman, who +held on to his saddle with both hands in mortal agony, to the intense +delight of the whole population of Toroczko, who were sitting in groups +outside their houses on their _beard-driers_, as the benches used to be +called in those days. + + * * * * * + +First of all the Patrol-officer took the road to Abrudbanya. Formerly, +while he still had a servant, Clement used to leave all the pioneering +to him; but now he was forced to find his way from village to village +himself, with the occasional assistance of the country magistrates. + +He had just quitted the narrow mountain path, and was ambling slowly +over a dilapidated bridge, which spanned a brawling stream, when he +perceived in the thicket a group of dirty-looking men crouching over a +large fire. At first he took them for gipsies, but, approaching nearer, +was horrified to discover that they were Tartars, who had dismounted +from their horses, and were sitting round an ox which they had roasted +whole. + +To turn back was scarcely advisable; but the road he was following went +straight past the diners. Clement was in a fix; but he determined at +last to put a bold face on the matter, so he trotted by the gaping group +with affected nonchalance, pretending to be intent all the while on +calculating the exact number of acorns on the wayside oaks, and merely +raised his hat to the Tartars with a brief "_Salem aleikum!_" when he +came close up to them, as if he only then perceived them for the first +time, passing quickly on without looking once behind him. + +So far all was well, but at that very moment two of the Tartars sprang +up from the fire and called to the rider to stop. Clement, perceiving +that they were both unarmed, argued therefrom that they had no murderous +designs upon him, and therefore halted and awaited them. + +No sooner had the two dog-headed figures come up to him, one on each +side, than they caught hold of his legs and displayed no less an +intention than to rob him of his beautiful boots. + +"Would you? ye sons of Belial!" cried Clement, beside himself with rage, +and grasping the hilt of his sword he tried to pull it from its leather +sheath, in order to cut off the ears of his assailants forthwith. But +the good blade, which had not quitted its sheath for ten years, had +grown so rusty that Clement, despite all his endeavours, could not pluck +it forth, and in the meantime the two Tartars pulled the wriggling rider +hither and thither by the legs, naturally without succeeding in +loosening the tight-fitting boots in the least. The Tartars reviled +Clement, and Clement reviled the Tartars: their language was perfectly +horrible. + +The noise brought the Aga to the spot--an ourang-outang-like object +whose mahogany features were framed by a white beard--and he asked in a +hoarse whisper what was the matter. + +Clement the Clerk at once drew his credentials from the pocket of his +mente, and shook it in the Aga's face--he was too wrathful to +speak--while the Tartars, pointing with frantic gestures at the boots, +jabbered something to the Aga. + +"Who art thou, O bow-legged unbeliever!" asked the Aga, "that thou dost +presume to wear on thy lowest extremities, on thy mud-wading feet, +forsooth! the sacred colour of the Prophet, that radiant green which the +faithful may only behold on the arches of their mosques and on the +turban of the Padishah? Thou shalt be burned alive, thou godless +Giaour!" + +"I am the Patrol-officer of his Highness Prince Michael Apafi!" +declaimed the ex-student, with terrified pathos. "My person is sacred +and inviolable. I am he who provides the host of the sublime Sultan with +meat and drink; I proclaim and collect the taxes, so let me go, for I am +a very important personage." + +This mode of defence pleased the Tartars. The Aga exchanged glances with +his subalterns, as much as to say--"This is the very man we want!" and +addressed him again in a more friendly tone. + +"Dost thou indeed collect the taxes? Look now! my master, Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein, has sent me hither to notify to the people a fresh +imposition. Allah hath clearly brought us together. Thou wilt act +discreetly then by proclaiming the new tax at once. It is no more than +thy duty." + +"I'll do so gladly," replied Clement, who made as if he were going. + +"Stay, my son," said the Aga, beckoning to him. "Thou dost not even know +yet the amount of the new tax. 'Tis a mere trifle, and only imposed by +way of showing that we are the masters here. 'Tis only a farthing per +head. That's not much, I'm sure." + +"Nothing at all!" assented Clement, eager to be off. + +"Not so fast! not so fast!" remonstrated the Aga. "I shall not be best +pleased if thou dost disobey my orders; but as I know that thou dost not +regard it as perjury to break promises made to us, I'll tell off one of +my brave fellows here to accompany thee from village to village, and +take care that thou dost duly proclaim the new tax whithersoever thou +goest." + +"It is well, gracious sir," said Clement meekly, with the mental +reservation of ridding himself of the brave fellow at the very next +village. + +"Mount your horse, Zuelfikar," cried the Aga to one of his servants. + +The person addressed was an evil-looking fellow with a malignant squint. +Although just as dirty as the others, it was clear from his physiognomy +that he was not made of the same stuff, and if we condescended to bestow +any thought at all upon such low people, it might even occur to us that +we had seen him somewhere else before. + +"As for thee," said the Aga to Clement, who was anxious to be off at any +price, "take off thy boots as soon as thou gettest home, and if ever I +meet thee with them on again, thou shalt receive from me five hundred +strokes on the soles of thy feet, which thou wilt have cause to +recollect even on thy wedding-day." + +Clement the Clerk said "Yes" to everything, rejoiced that he had got off +at last, and trotted off towards Abrudbanya. His Tartar escort rode +faithfully by his side. + +From time to time the Patrol-officer cast a sidelong glance at his +companion, only quickly to avert his eyes again, for as the Tartar +squinted horribly, Clement could never exactly make out which way he +was looking. Clement was thinking all the while how easily he would give +the Tartar the slip, smiled to himself at the thought, winked with both +eyes, and nodded his head with a self-satisfied air. + +"Mr. Patrol-officer, don't fancy you will circumvent me as you go your +rounds!" exclaimed the Tartar suddenly, in the purest Hungarian, as if +he could read Clement's thought from his face. + +Clement was so aghast that he almost fell from his horse. How the deuce +could the fellow snap up his very thoughts, and speak Hungarian despite +his Tartardom? + +"Don't bother your head about me any more," continued the Turk calmly. +"I am an Hungarian renegade who was once in the service of Emerich +Balassa. I had a hand in the capture and poisoning of Corsar Beg, and +when the Hungarians began to persecute me on that account, I turned +Turk. If the Prophet befriend me, I may yet rise to be Kapudan Pasha. +Pray don't imagine you can bamboozle a wily old fox like me." + +Clement, completely disconcerted, could only scratch his head, proceeded +with his escort from village to village, and after accomplishing his +regular official business, proclaimed the fresh imposition of a farthing +per head, which the people everywhere received most favourably, in many +cases even paying it down at once to his Tartar comrade. + +But no one knew anything about the panther. Indeed, but for the respect +inspired by his gallooned green boots, the Patrol-officer would have +been laughed out of countenance. + +Only one little Wallachian village up in the mountains, called Marisel, +was yet to be visited, and beyond that place began the domains of Baron +Banfi, where the jurisdiction of the Patrol-officer terminated. + +Thither also the renegade followed him. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SANGE MOARTE.[29] + + +The Patrol-officer and his companion had already been travelling for +half the day across the Batrina moor on their way to Marisel. Clement +kept on asking every living soul he met where the village was, and +always received the same answer--"Further on!" + + [Footnote 29: _Sange moarte._ Dead blood (Roumanian).] + +From time to time they met a Wallachian peasant reviling the team of +sluggish oxen spanned to his huge wagon, and vainly endeavouring to make +them quicken their pace; then there were ponds to be waded, where +half-naked gipsy bands, in picturesque rags, were washing gold-dust out +of the sand, and stared at the Tartar as if he were a wild beast; here +and there, in the mossy hollow of a wayside tree, stood an icon, the +pale, weather-worn gilding of which being all that remained of its once +gorgeous colouring; in the worm-eaten niche stood the _pomana_,[30] a +pitcher of pure spring water which the traditional piety of the young +Wallachian maidens had placed there for the refreshment of thirsty +travellers. + + [Footnote 30: _Pomana_, or _pomena_. An alms, a + voluntary free succour. The etymology is obscure. Some + opine that it is a corruption of _per_ and _manus_.] + +The road now went up hill and down dale; for the greater part of the way +they had to lead their horses. All around stood the ever-changing +wilderness; lofty, perpendicular beeches, terebinthine oaks, with an +occasional dark-green pine. At last they reached a point where the road +divided. One branch of it ran right down into the valley, the other +wound obliquely up to the summit of a bald bleak hill, from which a +projecting rock hung down so precipitately that it seemed ready to fall +every moment. + +"Well, whither shall we turn now?" asked Clement, hesitating. "I have +never come so far as this before." + +"Let us follow the road," returned Zuelfikar; "none but a fool would risk +his neck up that steep cliff." + +Clement looked about him in great perplexity, and suddenly perceived a +man sitting on the rock which so precipitately overhung the path. It was +a young Wallach with a pale face and long, flowing curls; his sheep-skin +jacket was open at the breast, his cap lay beside him on the ground. +There he sat in a reverie, on the very edge of the lofty rock, with his +feet dangling in empty space, his stony countenance resting on his +hands, and his eyes staring glassily into the remote distance. + +"Hi! you up there! _ungye mera ista via?_"[31] cried Clement, in a +jargon which was half Latin and half Wallachian. + + [Footnote 31: _Ungye mera ista via?_ "Whither goes this + road?" The first two words are Roumanian.] + +The Wallach did not appear to hear the question; he remained in just the +same position, blankly staring and immovable. + +"He is either deaf or dead," said Zuelfikar, after they had both bawled +themselves hoarse at him in vain. "The best thing we can do is to follow +the beaten track," and off they set at a trot. The Wallach did not so +much as look after them. + +Evening was drawing nigh, and the road to Marisel seemed absolutely +endless. It went out of one valley into another, without passing a +single human habitation, and the huge boulders and fierce mountain +torrents, which they came upon at frequent intervals, made it almost +impassable. At last they perceived, somewhere in the wood, a fire +burning, and a monotonous chant struck upon their ears. On approaching +nearer, they saw an immense pyre, made of the trunks of trees, burning +in a forest glade, and shaded by oaks, the foliage of which was singed +red by the long tongues of flame which flickered up to their very +summits. + +Not far from the pyre, a band of Wallachs were dancing with savage +gesticulations, striking the ground at the same time with their massive +clubs. Their twirling feet seemed to be writing mystic characters in the +soil, and all the while they brandished their arms and howled forth +metrical curses as if they were exorcising some evil spirit. + +Around the men twined a wreath of young girls, holding one another by +the hand, and twirling in a contrary direction. These young and charming +forms, with their black, plaited tresses interwoven with pearls and +ribbons; their flowered petticoats, cambric smocks, and broad, striped +aprons; their tinkling gold spangles, or strings of silver coins about +their round necks and their tiny, high-heeled shoes, formed a pleasant +contrast to the wild, ferocious figures of the men, with their high +sheepskin hats perched upon their shaggy, unkempt hair, their sunburnt, +naked necks, greasy _koeduroens_,[32] broad brass buckles, and large +ox-hide sandals. + + [Footnote 32: _Koeduroen._ A rough, fur jacket.] + +Both dance and song were peculiar. The girls, all hand in hand, flew +round the men, singing a plaintive, dreamy sort of dirge, while the men +stamped fiercely on the ground and uttered an intermittent wail. The +fire blazing beside them cast a red glare, intermingled with dark +flitting shadows, on the wild group. Some distance behind, on the stump +of a tree, sat an old bagpiper with his pipes under his arm. The +tortured goatskin's monotonous discord blended with the savage harmony +of the song. + +When the pyre had nearly burnt itself out, the dancers suddenly +dispersed, dragged forward a female effigy stuffed with straw and +clothed in rags, placed it on two poles, and with loud cries of "Marcze +Zare! Marcze Zare!"[33] held it over the fire; then, exclaiming in +chorus--"Burn to ashes, accursed Wednesday-evening witch!" they threw it +into the glowing embers. The girls then danced round the fire with cries +of joy till the witch was burned, when the men, with a wild yell, rushed +among the embers and trod them out. + + [Footnote 33: _Marcze Zare_ = Wednesday witch, hags + possessing peculiar power on Wednesday evenings, + according to the Wallachs.] + +"Who are ye, and what are you doing here?" cried Clement the Clerk to +the Wallachs, who hitherto had not taken the slightest notice of him. + +"We are they of Marisel who have burned Marcze Zare," answered the +peasants unanimously, with the grave faces of men who had just done +something uncommonly wise. + +"Well, be quick about it, and then come back to the village, for I am +here by command of the Prince, my master, to put the usual questions to +you." + +"And I," put in Zuelfikar, "am here by command of the mighty Ali Pasha of +Grosswardein to levy a new tax." + +The Wallachs watched the Patrol-officer till he was quite out of sight +without uttering a word; but they shook their fists after him and +exclaimed--"May Marcze Zare take him!" + +Then, with the bagpiper in front, they formed into a long procession and +marched, loudly singing, down towards the distant village. + + * * * * * + +It was a long, straggling, Wallachian hamlet at which the patrollers now +arrived--one house exactly like another; low clay huts with lofty roofs +and projecting eaves, surrounded by quick-set hedges, the doors so low +that one had to stoop in order to enter. Every house consisted of a +single room, in which the whole family, parents and children, goats and +poultry, lived together. At the entrance of the village stood a gigantic +triumphal arch made of marble blocks; over the principal portal was the +torso of a Minerva; on the facade were battle-pieces in high relief, and +beneath them this Latin inscription in large Roman letters--"This town +has been built by the unconquerable Trajan as a memorial of his +triumph!" And behind the arch a heap of wretched clay huts! + +On the capitol of a fallen Corinthian column, in front of the village +dead-house, sits the _prefika_, the oldest old woman in the place, +lamenting with meretricious tears over the dead young maiden who lies +within. On the side of a grass-grown hill close at hand one sees a round +stone building, raised once upon a time, no doubt, in memory of some +Roman hero; but the Wallachian population has turned it into a church, +covered it with a pointed roof, and daubed the interior with hideous +paintings. + +The Patrol-officer called the people together into the church, which was +the only public building in the place. The crowd stood around him, the +old men leaning on their crutches. The blood-red rays of sunset pierced +through the round window-panes, giving a peculiar appearance to the +interior of the venerable edifice, whose walls were daubed all over with +figures of grotesque saints, whom the monstrous fancy of the rustic +artist had provided with scarlet mantles and spurred jack-boots. Amongst +so many pictures of the marvellous, that well-known allegory which +represents Death as a skeleton, dragging off with him a king, a beggar, +and a priest, was not lacking, and scattered among the icons were a few +bandy-legged fiends derisively stretching out their tongues at poor +damned sinners whom they clutched tightly by the hair. + +Behind the iconastasis the priest and the Patrol-officer took their +stand, surrounded by gilded icons and consecrated candles. When Clement +had read his credentials to the people, he called to the village elder, +a tall man with large projecting teeth, to come in front of the +altar-rail, and addressed the following questions to him-- + +"Are there amongst you any sorcerers and magicians who can summon the +devil to their aid?" + +The crowd received this question with an awful whisper, and after a long +pause the magistrate replied-- + +"There was one last year, your worship, a godless villain with blotches +on his neck and body, which were patches stitched on to him by the +devil, for even when we singed them with red-hot irons he did not feel +it. We sent him to the Sanhedrim at Fehervar, where, failing to stand +the water test, he was burnt alive." + +"Are there among you any hags or vampires which injure other people's +children, make knots in men's bowels, ride through the air, colour milk +red, hatch serpents' eggs, or seek for grasses which can make them +invisible, and open barred and bolted doors?" + +This question called forth a hundred different answers. Every one tried +to communicate his own personal experiences to the interrogator; the +younger women in particular pressed upon the Patrol-officer with furious +importunity. + +"One at a time, please," cried Clement, with great dignity. "Let the +magistrate say what he knows." + +"Yes, there used to be an old witch here, worshipful sir," said the +village elder obsequiously. "We called her Dainitsa.[34] She had long +molested mankind, for her eyes were red. She could, when she chose, +bring down such storms upon the village that the wind would take off the +roofs of the houses. Once she brought a hailstorm upon us, and God's +thunderbolt smote the village in three places. Thereupon the women here +grew furious, seized her, and threw her into the pond. But even there +the witch railed upon them and said--'Take heed! You will live to beg of +me the water which you now give me to drink!' Then the women fished up +her dead body from the bottom of the pond, thrust a dart through her +heart, buried her in the valley, and rolled a large stone over her +grave. But the very next year the witch's curse came upon us. Throughout +the summer not a drop of rain fell in our district. Everything was +withered up, and our cattle carried off by the murrain. Dainitsa had +drunk up all the rain and dew. So we went to her grave, bored a large +hole therein, and filled the grave with water till it ran over, shouting +at the same time--'Drink thy fill, accursed hag! but lap not up all our +rain and dew!' And so at last the great drought came to an end." + + [Footnote 34: _Dainitsa._ She who sings in a low voice, + _i. e._ she who mutters spells. From Roumanian _daina_, + which is derived from the Hungarian _danolni_, to + sing.] + +The priest gravely vouched for the accuracy of this narrative, and +Clement made a note of it in his parchment roll. + +Now came the third question. + +"Are there any among you who dare to smoke tobacco, either by cutting up +the leaves into small fragments and putting them in his pipe, or by +roasting them on the fire and inhaling the ascending steam?" + +"There are none, sir!" returned the elder. "We do not know that dish." + +"And do not try to, for whoever is caught in the act will, in accordance +with the law of the land, have the stem of his pipe thrust through his +nose, and be led in that guise all round the market-place." + +The fourth question was this-- + +"Do any of the peasants wear cloth coats, marten-skin kalpags, or +morocco shoes?" + +"Pshaw!" cried the village elder. "Why, our poverty is such that we +never look beyond sheep-skin jackets and leather sandals. What do we +want with coloured cloth and morocco shoes?" + +"Nor must you, for the Estates of the Realm have forbidden the peasantry +to wear the clothes of the gentry." + +Now came the fifth question. + +"Which of you not only acted contrary to the decree of the Diet, that +the peasants should extirpate the sparrows, but even mocked the officers +charged to collect sparrows' heads?" + +The magistrate humbly approached the Patrol-officer. + +"Believe me, worshipful sir; by reason of the great drought and the bad +season, the sparrows have all departed from our district. Tell his +Highness that we have been unable to lay our hands upon a single one all +through the summer." + +"That's a lie!" cried Clement the Clerk fiercely. + +"I speak the truth," persisted the magistrate, seizing Clement by the +hand, and dexterously insinuating two silver marias into his clenched +fist. + +"Well, it is not impossible," said the Patrol-officer, somewhat +mollified. + +Last of all came the question-- + +"Has any among you seen foreign beasts of prey, or other strange +animals, straying about in these regions?" + +"Of a truth, sir, we have seen lots of them." + +"And what sort of beasts were they?" asked Clement, with joyful +curiosity. + +"Well, dog-headed Tartars!" + +"You fool, I don't mean that sort of beast. I want to know whether any +one, in strolling through these woods, has come upon a four-footed beast +of prey, a creature with a spotted skin? You know very well you have +left no hole or corner unexplored, for even now you are hunting after +the hidden treasures of Decebalus." + +The magistrate shook his head incredulously, glanced at the crowd, and +said, with a shrug of his shoulders-- + +"We have seen no such wondrous beast; but haply Sange Moarte has seen +it, for he in his mad moods roams incessantly through woods and +hollows." + +"And where then is this Sange Moarte? You must call him hither." + +"Alas! sir, he is difficult to catch; he seldom comes to the village. +But perhaps his mother is here." + +"Here she is! here she is!" cried several peasants at once, pushing +forward an old woman with sunken cheeks, whose head was wrapped round in +a white cloth. + +"What mad name is this you have given to your son?" cried the +Patrol-officer; "whoever heard of calling a man 'Dead blood'!" + +"'Twas not I, sir, who gave him this name," said the old Wallachian +woman with a broken voice. "The villagers call him so because he is +never seen to laugh or speak to any one, or answer when he is spoken to. +He did not even weep for his father when he died; nor has he ever +visited the girls in the spinning-rooms, but wanders about incessantly +in the woods." + +"All right, all right, old lady; but that has nothing to do with me." + +"I know it, sir, I know that it does not concern you; but I must tell +you that the pretty Floriza, the belle of the village, was in love with +my son. There was not a lovelier maiden in all Wallachia. Such black +eyes, such locks reaching down to her feet, such rosy cheeks, such a +slim waist were not to be found anywhere else. And then she was so +diligent, and she loved my son so dearly! In her chest she had sixteen +embroidered chemises which she herself had woven and spun, and round her +neck she wore a string of two hundred silver and twenty gold pieces. +Sange Moarte never so much as looked at the girl. Vainly did Floriza +make him posies, he would not put them in his hat; vainly did she give +him kerchiefs, he would not wear them in his breast. Whenever he passed +by, the girl would sing such beautiful songs as she sat by the hearth; +but Sange Moarte for all that did not linger at her threshold, and yet +she loved him so dearly. Often she said to him, when they met together +in the lane--'Thou dost never come to see me; perchance thou wouldst not +even look at me if I were dead?' Sange Moarte replied--'Then indeed I +would look at thee.'--'Then I will soon die,' said the maiden +sorrowfully. 'And then will I also visit thee,' said Sange Moarte, and +went his way. Does all this weary you, good sir? I shall soon have done. +Pretty Floriza lies dead. Her heart broke for grief. There she lies on +her bier; the funereal _armindenu_[35] stands in front of the house. +When Sange Moarte sees it he will know that Floriza is dead, and will +come forth from the woods to look upon his dead sweetheart, as he +promised her, for he always keeps his word. Then you can speak with +him." + + [Footnote 35: _Armindenu._ A green branch placed in + front of houses on the 1st of May and at funerals. + Compare Latin _Alimentale_.] + +"Very well, old lady," said Clement, who had suddenly become serious, +and was almost angry to find something very like poetry among rude +peasants, who had certainly never read Horace's _Ars Poetica_. "You must +watch for the lad's return, and let me know." + +"'Twere better you went yourself, sir," said the old woman, "for I +scarcely think he will answer a single question put to him by any one +else." + +"Be it so! Lead me thither!" cried the Patrol-officer; and the whole +assembly proceeded towards the mortuary, which stood at the extreme end +of the village. + +This end of Marisel is so far distant from the church, that night had +fallen before the crowd had reached it. + +The moon came from behind the mountains. Round about the house stood +pine trees, through the sombre foliage of which the evening star +shimmered faintly. In the distance sounded the melancholy notes of some +pastoral flute. In front of the little white house the hired mourner was +sobbing loudly. The wind agitated the crape-hung branches of the +_armindenu_. Inside the house lay the corpse of the beautiful young +maiden awaiting her truant lover. The moonbeams fell upon her pale +countenance. + + * * * * * + +The mob surrounded the mortuary, crept stealthily on tip-toe into the +courtyard, peeped through the window, and whispered-- + +"Look! There he is! there he is!" + +The Patrol-officer, the priest, the magistrate, and Sange Moarte's +mother entered the room. + +Right across the threshold lay the girl's father dead drunk; he got so +tipsy yesterday from sheer sorrow that he will need all to-day and all +to-morrow to sleep it off. In the middle of the room stood the pine-wood +coffin, bedaubed with glaring roses fresh from the brush of a rural +artist; within it lay the girl (she was only sixteen), her beautiful +forehead encircled by a funereal wreath. A wax taper had been placed in +one of her hands, in the other she held a small coin. At the head of the +coffin burned two handsome wax candles stuck into a jar containing +gingerbreads; at the foot of the coffin, in a gaudily-painted, +high-backed chair, staring blankly at the girl's face, sat Sange Moarte. + +The pious superstition of the priest and the magistrate would not let +them cross the threshold; but Clement stepped up to the lad, and +immediately recognized in him the man on the rock who would not tell him +the way. + +"Hi, young man! So you are he who has the bad habit of never replying to +people when they address you, eh?" + +The person thus addressed justified the question by not answering it. + +"Now hearken and answer my question. I am the Patrol-officer. D'ye +hear?" + +Sange Moarte remained speechless, with his eyes fixed all the time on +Floriza. He was as motionless as the corpse itself, and scarcely seemed +to breathe. His good old mother tenderly took him by the hand and called +him by his proper name. + +"Jova, my son! answer the gentleman. Look at me, I am your mother." + +"In the name of my master, the Prince, I command you to answer me!" +cried the Patrol-officer, raising his voice. + +The Wallach still remained silent. + +"I ask you if, in the course of your sylvan ramblings, you have seen any +sort of foreign wild beast, to wit a yellow, speckled monster, which the +learned call a panther?" + +Sange Moarte gave a start, as if suddenly aroused out of a deep sleep. +His glassy eyes flashed and sparkled as he looked at his interrogator, a +feverish scarlet flushed his cheeks, and he stammered tremulously-- + +"I have seen it, seen it, seen it." + +And with that he covered his eyes, so as not to look upon the dead body. + +"Where have you seen it?" asked the Patrol-officer. + +"Far, far away," whispered the Wallach; then he became dumb once more +and buried his forehead in his hands. + +"Name the place. Where is it?" + +The Wallach looked timidly around. A cold shudder ran through him, and +with fearful, rolling eyes he whispered to the Patrol-officer-- + +"In the Gradina Dracului."[36] + + [Footnote 36: _Gradina Dracului_. Garden of the Devil + (Roumanian).] + +The priest and the magistrate immediately crossed themselves thrice, and +the latter gazed devoutly on a mural St. Peter, as if to invoke his help +on this occasion. + +"You seem to me a plucky lad, to venture to approach the Devil's +Garden," said the Patrol-officer. "Will you guide me thither?" + +The Wallach nodded, with a joyful look. + +"In the name of St. Michael and all the Archangels I implore you, sir, +not to go," interrupted the priest. "Of all who have visited the Devil's +Garden, not one has ever been known to come back. A truly devout person +would turn his back upon it. It is only this man's sinfulness that has +led him thither." + +Clement scratched his head. + +"I don't go there for the pleasure of the thing," said he. "Not that I +fear the name of the place, but because I object to scaling mountains. +In my official capacity, however, I have no choice." + +"Then at least stick a consecrated willow-twig in your cap," urged the +anxious pastor, "or take with you a picture of St. Michael, that the +devil may not come near you." + +"Thank you, my brothers; but it would be much more to the point if you +provided me with a pair of sandals, for I cannot go clambering over the +mountains in these spurred boots. I regret too that your amulets are +thrown away upon me, for I am a Unitarian." + +The priest crossed himself once more, and said with a sigh-- + +"I fancied you were orthodox, because you were so zealous about the hags +and witches." + +"I only did that officially. Send my Turk hither." + +As he went out the priest murmured to himself-- + +"Birds of a feather! A nice pair of heretics!" + +"Comrade Zuelfikar," cried Clement to the Turk, as he tied on his +sandals, "you can find the rest of your way by yourself, for I must take +a side spring into the mountains." + +"If you spring, I will spring too," replied the distrustful renegade. +"Whithersoever you go, thither will I go also." + +"My dear fellow, there is nothing to be pocketed on the road that I am +about to take, except perhaps the devil, for man has never set his foot +there." + +"What do I care! My orders are to go along with you till I return to the +point from whence I started." + +"So much the better, then; I shall have the pleasure of your company. +But pray help me to draw my sword, so that I may be able to defend +myself in case of need." + +"So you carry a sword which requires two men to draw it! Well, let's +look at it," and with that the two men planted their legs one against +the other, grasped the sword with both hands, and tugged away at it for +a long time, till at last it flew out of its sheath so suddenly that +Clement the Clerk nearly fell sprawling. + +Clement then called for a jar of honey, rubbed the rusty blade all over +with the viscid stuff, and stuck it back into its sheath. + +"And now let us be off, young man," said he to the Wallach, who hastily +took his cap and a small axe from the ground, and went out without once +looking behind him. + +His mother seized him by the hand-- + +"Wilt thou not first kiss thy dead sweetheart?" + +Sange Moarte did not even turn his head round, but drew his hand out of +his mother's and went with the two strange men towards the darkening +woods. + +All that night the adventurers were traversing a deep dell. Gigantic +perpendicular rocks rose up on each side of them, only above their heads +shimmered a narrow streak of starry sky. + +Towards morning they found themselves among the Carpathian Alps. + +It was a dazzling spectacle. In the distance diamond-peaked crystal +mountains covered with white snow-fields, striped here and there by +dark-green lines of pine forest. Close beside them is a basalt rock, +consisting of angular columns as large as towers, standing side by side +like the pipes of a gigantic organ, with their summits crowned by +wreaths of round trees. A white, semi-transparent cloud floats across +this rock, hiding all but its summit and its base. From time to time a +lightning-flash darts from this cloud, and the reverberated echoes of +the thunder-peals resound like long-drawn-out chords from this majestic +organ of Nature's own workmanship. + +Over yonder, a mountain chasm suddenly comes into view, where two rocky +fragments, whose rugged surfaces seem to exactly correspond, stand face +to face. Through this rocky chasm, many hundred feet below, rushes a +stray branch of the icy Szamos, disappearing among the thick oak woods +which cover its banks. + +In one place the rocks form a flight of steps, steps never fashioned for +the foot of man, for each of them is as high as a tower; in another +place the rocky boulders are piled one on the top of the other, in such +a way that if the undermost block were disturbed, the whole of the +enormous mass would fall into a differently-shaped group. + +Everything indicates that here the dominion of the world and of man +ends. Not a single human habitation is visible from the dizzy heights; +even vegetation is rare and scanty; on every side bald rocks and gaping +chasms, among which the mountain torrents toss and tumble; only the wild +goat is there to be seen leaping from crag to crag. + +"Which is the way now?" asked Clement of his guide, casting an anxious +glance at his surroundings, in which the possibility of hopelessly +losing oneself was more than probable. + +"Trust only to me," said Sange Moarte, and he guided them through the +uninhabited wilderness with the unerring precision of instinct. In +places where it seemed impossible to go a step further, he always found +a path. He recollected every root or shrub which could serve as a +support to clamberers down the mountain side; every fallen tree which +spanned the abyss, every narrow ledge which could only be passed by +bending forward over the precipice and holding fast behind to the +fissures of the rock, was familiar to him; in short he seemed quite at +home in this interminable labyrinth. + +"We are near," he cried suddenly, after clambering up a steep rocky wall +and surveying the horizon; then he held out his hands to his companions +and drew them up after him. + +A new spectacle then presented itself. + +The opposite slope of the rocky ridge which they had just ascended was +perfectly smooth and shiny, and encompassed the whole region in a +semi-circle, forming a sort of basin, at the very bottom of which--and +it was six hundred feet deep--lay a little mountain lake, the dark-green +waters of which perpetually boiled and bubbled, though not a breath of +air was stirring: perhaps it felt the ebb and flow of ocean. The +opposite side of the rocky basin was formed by a gigantic chain of +mountains, fringed only at its base by fir trees, and at the point where +the two mountain systems met, a small stream in a deep bed trickled into +the little mountain lake. The masses of ice which had fallen into the +valley formed a crystal vault over this stream. + +"Whither are we going?" asked Clement, aghast. + +"To the source of that brook," returned Sange Moarte. "It has dug its +way through the ice, and by following its course we shall come to the +place we seek." + +"But how are we to get there? This rocky slope is as smooth as a mirror; +if a man begins sliding down it there is no stopping till he plumps into +the lake." + +"You have only to take care. We must lie on our backs and glide down +sideways. Here and there you will find a tuft of Alpine roses to cling +on to. But you've nothing to fear if you slide down barefoot. Do as I +do." + +A hair-bristling pastime truly! + +Taking off their sandals they held on by their hands and feet to the +smooth, shelving, stony wall, at the foot of which lay the +darkly-gleaming, fathomless lake. + +They had already slided half-way down the incline, when from the +mountain opposite arose a muffled, mysterious roar. They felt the cliff +on which they lay quaking beneath them. + +"Ha! stay where you are," cried Sange Moarte, looking back at them. "An +avalanche from the mountain opposite is approaching." + +And at the very next moment they could see a white ball descending from +the immeasurably distant heights, plunging with mad haste down the +mountain slope, tearing away with it whole masses of rock and uprooted +pines, swelling every moment into a more tremendous bulk, and dashing +down the decline in leaps of two hundred feet at a time into the valley +below. + +"Heaven defend us!" cried the terrified Clement, clutching his guide +with one hand and holding on to the rock with the other. "It is coming +this way, and will overwhelm us all." + +"Keep still," cried Sange Moarte, seeing them inclined to clamber up +again and thus expose themselves to the danger of a fall. "The avalanche +will take the direction of that block of rock standing in its way, and +will there either stop or disperse." + +And indeed they could see that the snow-slip, now grown colossal, was +making for a projecting point of rock which was dwarf-like in +comparison. Every other sound was lost in the thunder of the avalanche. + +And now the huge snow-ball bounded upon the obstructive rock, and fell +prone across it with a terrific thud, which shook the whole mountain to +its very base. + +For a moment the whole region was enveloped in a cloud of steam-like +snow-spray, and after the final crash the thunder of the avalanche +ceased. But immediately afterwards it began again with a frightful +crackling; the weight of the snowy mass had uprooted the obstructing +rock, and whirling down with it in dizzy rotations, plunged +perpendicularly into the lake below. + +The agitated lake, lashed out of its basin on both sides, rose in an +enormous wave, three hundred feet high, up to the very spot where the +bold climbers were clinging to the naked rock, and after poising in the +air for a second, like a huge transparent green column, broke and fell +back into the lake, which very slowly subsided. + +"Now we will go on our way," said Sange Moarte. "The rock is moist now, +and the descent will be all the easier." + +After the lapse of half-an-hour, the wanderers found themselves at the +mouth of a stream. + +A wondrous corridor lay open before them. The brook sprang from a hot +spring, which, after racing down the deep valleys, buried itself beneath +icebergs and snowdrifts. But the hot water had bored a passage through +the ice, constantly melting the frozen mass around it with its warm +stream, so that only the thick outermost layer remained, which, +constantly renewed by the cold air without, and as constantly dissolved +by the hot stream within, grew into a sort of transparent crystal arcade +with huge dependent glittering stalactites above the stream. + +Through this channel Sange Moarte now led his companions. + +Clement could not but call to mind the fabulous fairy palace where +spellbound mortals only see the light of day through transparent waters. + +Wading thus in the bed of the stream, they reached a point where the +bright arcade began to grow dark. Its transparent roof grew thicker and +thicker, passing gradually into an ever deeper blue, till at last it +became quite black, and the murmuring of the stream was the wanderers' +only guide. As they advanced, with their hose tucked up to their knees, +into the ever-darkening darkness, they felt the water getting hotter and +hotter, till at last they heard a hissing sound and saw once more the +daylight streaming through the rocky chasm, through which the brook +rushed down into its subterraneous cave. + +Here, with the help of some dangling shrubs, they scaled the hillside to +avoid the onslaught of the boiling spring, and after a brief exertion +found themselves on the other side of the mountain, in a deep, well-like +valley. + +This is the _Gradina Dracului_. + +It is a perfectly round dell, shut in on every side by a wall of +perpendicular cliffs more than six hundred feet high. Whoever wishes to +look down from above, must approach the edge of the rock lying on his +stomach, and even then must have a good head not to be seized by +vertigo. At the bottom of this dell the flowers have an amaranthine +bloom. When the snow is falling thickly all around, and the ice is +sparkling everywhere else, here in the depths of the hardest winter may +then be seen those dark-green flowers with broad, indented petals, and +those little round-leaved trees the like of which are to be met with +nowhere else in this district. Just at this time too the leather-leaved +_Nymphaea_ opens its light-yellow calices here; the grass, both summer +and winter, is of the brightest green; and the wild laurel climbs high +up into the crevices of the rocks, and casts its red berries down into +the valley, when Nature all around is cold and dead. + +Throughout the winter this dell is clothed with the rarest flowers. +Therefore the Wallach calls it "the Devil's Garden," and fears to +approach it. + +But the whole wonder has quite a natural cause. + +In the depth of the dell a hot mineral spring bubbles up in a cave, +never coming to light, but soaking all the circumambient soil through +and through, and it is because these warm waters possess a flora of +their own that these unknown shrubs and flowers are for ever blooming in +the neighbourhood of the vivifying element. The whole thing is a +splendid open-air orangery in the midst of snowstorms and icebergs. + +Sange Moarte beckoned to his comrades to follow him. A feverish +impatience possessed him, and when he had advanced a few steps into the +cavern, he pointed with trembling hand at a dark recess, in which an +iron door was visible. + +"What is it?" cried Clement, clutching his sabre. "Does anybody dwell +here?" + +"Yes," rejoined Sange Moarte (his blood at that moment seemed to be on +fire, and the veins of his temples stood out like cords). "There, in +that water-basin, she is wont to bathe. There have I watched her, from +day to day, without ever daring to approach her," stammered he, in a +whisper that was scarcely audible, but full of the most passionate +ardour. + +"Who?" asked the Patrol-officer, much amazed. + +"Oh! the fairy," stammered the Wallach, with trembling lips, and he +buried his glowing head in his hands. + +"What's all this about?" said Clement, turning to Zuelfikar. "'Tis not a +fairy that I'm after but a panther!" + +"Pst! a key is turning in the lock," cried Zuelfikar. "Away back into the +dark cave!" + +The two men had to drag Sange Moarte away from the iron gate, which a +moment afterwards opened noiselessly, and a girlish form stepped forth +leading a panther by a golden chain. + +Sange Moarte was right in calling her a fairy. + +Before them stood a dazzlingly beautiful woman in oriental _deshabille_. +Her locks were enveloped in a red fez, the long gold tassels of which +fell across her white turban over her pale face; her ivory-smooth +shoulders gleamed forth from the sleeves of her short, +ermine-embroidered kaftan; her eyes sparkled in the dark; every movement +of her lithe body was serpentine, fascinating, maddening. + +The three men held their breath. The girl passed by without observing +them. + +"Ah, that is she," whispered Zuelfikar in amazement, when she had gone. + +"Who? Do you know her?" asked Clement. + +"It is Azrael, Corsar Beg's former favourite." + +"What a place for her to be in!" + +"Pst! she'll hear us." + +Meanwhile the girl had reached the basin where the subterraneous waters +poured their mingled flood, sat down on a stone bench, and commenced to +unwind her turban. Her jasper-black hair fell down over her shoulders. + +Sange Moarte's hot panting resounded through the darkness. + +The panther lay quietly at his mistress's feet, his shrewd head resting +on his front paws. + +Azrael now removed her bright Persian shawl from her slim waist, and +next prepared to slip off her light kaftan, taking a couple of steps +towards a projecting rocky buttress which hid her from the eyes of the +watchers. + +Sange Moarte was about to rush after her. It was all the two men could +do to hold him back. + +"Are you mad?" growled Zuelfikar in his ear. "Would you betray us with +your infernal curiosity?" + +"The poor devil is in love with the girl!" whispered Clement. + +At that moment there came the sound of a splash, as of some one leaping +into the water and playing with its waves. + +Sange Moarte frantically tore himself loose from his companions' arms, +and with a furious yell rushed towards the basin. + +At this yell Azrael, in all the maddening witchery of her charms, sprang +out of her watery mirror, looked at the presumptuous wretch with +flashing eyes, and cried savagely-- + +"Oglan! Seize him!" + +The panther had hitherto remained motionless; but the moment his +mistress called him to battle, he sprang up with a roar, seized the +young Wallach, and threw him with a single jerk to the ground. + +Sange Moarte did not think of defending himself against the savage +beast, but stretched out his hands imploringly towards the odalisk; +drank in her loveliness with thirsty looks; writhed closer to her, and, +weeping and groaning, fell down at her feet, while Azrael stared wildly +at him, threw her mantle hastily around her, and watched her darling +panther tear to pieces the youth who had never loved any one in his life +in order that he might love her to the death. + +"I'll go and help him!" cried Clement, mad with horror, and drawing his +sword. + +"Softly! Don't be a fool! Besides, we have something better to do. The +iron gate remains open; let us creep in while the lady is otherwise +engaged, and find out what there is here; that will interest our masters +very much, especially mine." + +With that the two men crept through the iron door, groped their way +along the narrow passage which seemed to have been cut out of the naked +rock, and discovered at the end of it, by the light of a lamp hanging +from the roof, several small doors to the right and left. They opened +one door after the other, but only found empty rooms with no further +outlets. At length a glimpse of the outer world reached them through one +of the windows. They hastened forward in that direction, and coming upon +a second iron door passed through it, and found themselves in a large +courtyard surrounded by high walls, one of which they scaled, and beheld +from the top of it the valley of the cold Szamos stretching far and wide +before their eyes. Soon after they discovered a footpath which led them +from the wall to the woodlands below, and off they set running, and +never drew breath till they had safely reached the bottom. It was only +then that the two men ventured to stop and look each other in the face. +Clement fancied he still heard the wildly musical voice of the fair +demoniac, the roaring of the panther, and the death-shrieks of the young +Wallach. + +"We may as well go on now," remarked Zuelfikar, "for to return the way we +came without a guide is impossible, and we are bound to come out +somewhere." + +And, indeed, they soon came upon two wood-cutters, who were fastening +their raft to the river's bank. + +"What is that castle yonder?" asked Clement. + +The men stared at him. + +"Where? What castle?" + +Clement looked behind to show it to them, and behold! nowhere was +anything to be seen with the remotest resemblance to a castle, nothing +but rocks, each the counterpart of the other. The Wallachs laughed +aloud. + +"It were better not to mention it to them," said Zuelfikar. "They look +as if they do not know what is going on under their very noses. But +we'll mark the place. Nothing but rocks are visible from the outside, +the brushwood conceals the very opening through which we got into the +open air." + +So the wanderers inquired their way; returned to Marisel, where they +naturally did not stop to be questioned about Sange Moarte, but mounted +their steeds and rode off. + +Zuelfikar wanted Clement to go on with him to Banfi-Hunyad. The +Patrol-officer, however, declined to trespass on Denis Banfi's domains, +so the Turk went on alone to levy the new tax, though Clement prophesied +that he would receive more kicks than halfpence. + + * * * * * + +Clement duly informed Ladislaus Csaky of what he had seen, and received +one hundred ducats for his discovery, to say nothing of the green +top-boots. + +Zuelfikar fared much more strangely. + +On arriving at Grosswardein, he gave the tribute-money to Ali Pasha, +informing him at the same time of all that he had found out about +Azrael. + +This girl, when only thirteen years old, had been carried off from Ali +Pasha's harem by Corsar Beg. Ali, her original possessor, had promised a +reward of two hundred ducats to whomsoever should discover the +whereabouts of his favourite. + +Zuelfikar on quitting the Pasha had in his hand a purse of two hundred +ducats. This came to the ears of the Aga, Zuelfikar's superior officer, +who straightway picked a quarrel with the renegade, and condemned him to +one hundred strokes of the bastinado, unless he preferred redeeming each +stroke with a ducat. + +"I won't do that," returned Zuelfikar, "but I'll hand over to you the +gift which Denis Banfi sent to Ali Pasha when I told him he was to pay +the new tax. Give it to the Pasha, and I'll wager he'll so reward you +that you'll remember it all your life." + +The Aga greedily caught at the offer, took charge of the +carefully-sealed casket which Zuelfikar himself ought to have handed to +the Pasha, and presented it to his Excellency with the following +respectful salutation-- + +"Behold, most gracious Pasha, I bring you that princely gift which Lord +Denis Banfi has sent you in lieu of taxes." + +Ali Pasha seized the casket, cut through the silken cords, broke the +seal, and took off the cover, when lo! a horrible, shrivelled pig's +tail fell out of it on to his kaftan--the direst, most abominable +outrage which can befall a Mussulman! + +Ali Pasha in his fury sprang almost up to the ceiling, and throwing his +turban to the ground, immediately ordered that the Aga, who stood rooted +to the spot with horror, should be impaled outside the camp. + +But Zuelfikar went gaily on his way with the two hundred ducats in his +pocket. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. + + +There was a great commotion at Bonczhida Castle. The lord of the manor, +Denis Banfi, was expected home from Ebesfalva. The castle gates (on the +midmost panel of which blazed a huge family coat-of-arms between the +claws of two golden lions rampant) were overshadowed by green branches +and bravely-coloured banners; in the street, the school-children, in +gala costume, were drawn up in a long line headed by their teachers; +further back, with bright Sunday faces, stood the vassals; and, +marshalled in front of the hillock which marked the bounds, the mounted +gentry of the County of Klausenburg, some eight hundred horsemen or so, +all of them stalwart, sturdy forms, armed with morning stars and good +broad-swords, had come out to meet their leader, the Marshal of the +Nobility. + +On the bastions are to be seen Banfi's own soldiers, consisting of about +six hundred mail-clad heroes, with long Turkish muskets and Scythian +helmets. On the walls facing the Szamos six mortars are placed. A few +yards further off a coal fire is burning, at which the cannoneers are +heating the ends of their long iron staves so as to use them as +linstocks. + +At every gate, at every buttressed window, stand a couple of pages in +crimson dolmans and tightly-fitting, cornflower-blue hose, richly +garnished with silver-embroidered lace. + +At the window of the highest donjon sits the castellan, ready to +proclaim the arrival of his liege lord by the blast of a horn. Over his +head the wind is wrestling with a gigantic purple banner, the huge +dependent gold tassels of which it can only raise with difficulty. + +Out of all the windows, inquisitive domestics and expectant knights and +dames peep forth, or rather, out of all the windows but three, which +are altogether bare of festal groups, for there nothing is to be seen +but fragrant jasmines and quivering mimosas in snow-white porcelain +vases, behind which one can dimly distinguish a pale and delicate form +leaning dreamily on the embroidered window-cushions. This is Denis +Banfi's wife. + +It might have been ten o'clock in the morning when the castellan, +perceiving clouds of dust on the highway, announced the approach of his +Excellency with a blast of his horn, whereupon the roar of the mortars +scared every one into his proper place; the priests and teachers +reviewed their pupils, the officers marshalled their troops, and the +trumpeters on the ramparts played the latest marches. + +Shortly afterwards the Lord-Lieutenant arrived, escorted by the banderia +of half-a-dozen counties. Before and behind him trotted squadrons of +horsemen, whose arms and caparisons gleamed with all the colours of the +rainbow. There were to be seen horses of every race and every +hue--Arabian stallions, Transylvanian full-bloods, little Wallachian +ponies, slim English racers, and light-footed Barbary steeds. There were +horses with flesh-coloured manes, jewelled bits, variegated reins, and +embroidered schabracks. There were all the weapons with which the art of +war was then familiar--the slender Damascus blade, the toothed +morning-star, the curved _csakany_,[37] the serpentine crease, and those +long, gorgeously-fashioned fire-arms which could seldom be discharged +more than once; here and there, too, was visible a specimen of those +three-edged, six feet long Turkish scimitars, which were just then +coming into vogue. + + [Footnote 37: _Csakany._ An ancient weapon, half hook, + half battle-axe, of Tartar origin.] + +Each squadron brought its banner, on which the arms of the respective +counties were gaily embroidered, and sturdy standard-bearers bore them +aloft on their saddle-bows. In front of the martial bands rode their +captain, George Veer, a muscular man of about forty, with a +grey-speckled beard, stiffly waxed moustaches, and sun-burnt face. A +stately heron's plume, fastened by an opal agraffe, waved from his +marten-embroidered kalpag; his gorgeous bearskin was held together in +front by a gold chain as broad as a man's hand, set with gems. +Chrysolites as large as filberts gleamed, instead of eyes, in the bear's +head looking over his shoulder; his body was encased in a coat of silver +mail, sewn with gold stars, through which his dark-blue dolman was +visible. His crooked scimitar with its golden hilt well became the hand +which held it, and from his saddle-bows peeped forth the menacing +muzzles of a pair of pistols, the mechanism of which was about as simple +as the mechanism of a modern steam-engine. + +The Lord-Lieutenant himself sat in an open carriage, drawn by five black +horses, with rose-coloured, gilded harness; both panels of the carriage +door bore the Banfi crest, gorgeously painted on a gold ground; behind +stood two hussars with silver-embroidered mantles and white heron +plumes. + +With haughty dignity Denis Banfi sits back on the velvet cushions of his +coach; all the pomp and splendour which surrounds him suits him well. +His glossy locks leave bare his high forehead, which, together with his +fine, frank eyes, bespeaks infinite good-nature, while the bold curve of +the bushy eyebrows and the peculiar cut of the thin lips indicate a +violent temper. The whole face seems to be constantly under the +influence of these hostile emotions. At one moment it is mild, smiling, +rosy; at another savage, grim, and suffused by a dark purple flush. The +traces of noble enthusiasm and of unbridled fury are impressed upon his +face side by side just as they are in his heart. + +The martial squadrons present arms; the school-children chant hymns; the +vassals wave their hats; the music resounds from the battlements; the +clergymen deliver addresses; and all the guests flutter their kerchiefs +and their kalpags at him from the windows, and Banfi receives all these +demonstrations of respect with his usual majestic dignity and +condescension, with the air of a man who feels that all this sort of +thing belongs to him of right. Meanwhile his eyes glance up at those +three windows concealed behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering +mimosas, and his face grows graver and sadder when he perceives no one +behind them. + +From the window of another room there looks down a very tall old man in +a long clerical surtout with small buttons. Since losing his teeth his +chin has moved closer to his nose, which makes his nose look a long way +from his eyes. He seems to be taking no part whatever in the general +rejoicings. By his side leans a lady in mourning, wearing a black velvet +_haube_; rage and contempt are unmistakably visible in her countenance. +Near these two stands Master Stephen Nalaczi with folded arms, +surveying the whole procession with a droll, sarcastic smile. + +"Just look, your Reverence," says the lady in widow's weeds to the +grey-headed clergyman. "Did ever prince lord it with the pomp and +splendour of this simple Baron? I have been at coronations, +installations, inaugurations, triumphal ovations, but never, never have +I seen anything like the homage paid to this private man. If they +rendered it to a prince it might pass, but who, forsooth, is this Denis +Banfi? Why, a simple nobleman--just such a one as we are, except that he +is full of arrogance and pretence. All this princely splendour does not +belong to him _de jure_. Oh! well do I know the meaning of the word +_jus_; for I have all my life been before the courts against greater +lords than he." + +"How my reverend colleagues press forward to kiss his hand," murmured +Martin Kuncz (for that was the clergyman's name). "Ei! ei! Look now, at +my learned colleague Gabriel Csekalusi, how radiantly he hastens forward +to assist his Excellency out of his carriage!--and he is right, for +Denis Banfi is the visible providence of the Calvinists. But for poor, +vagabond Unitarian ministers like me, the place behind the door is good +enough." + +"But just look! just look! how the worthy _armalists_[38] raise him on +high and carry him on their shoulders to the door. 'Tis well they do not +set him on a litter like a sovereign prince--as if, forsooth, feeding +them at his table made him their lord and master!" + + [Footnote 38: _Armalists._ Noblemen who could show + _literae armales_ in support of their nobility.] + +"Nay, but, Madame Saint Pauli, pray let the good people do him homage if +they like," interrupted Nalaczi with a sneer. "Wait a bit. The greeting +I have in reserve for him will add salt to the soup! It will bring my +lord to his senses, I warrant you!" + +Meanwhile Banfi is mounting the steps, and the crowd, pouring after him, +forces its way in at the same time, and carries the Baron on its +shoulders right up to the dais at the end of the room. The clergymen +squeeze their way through the surging mob into their proper places, not +without being mercilessly mauled on the way; while George Veer, with +respect-inspiring elbows, carves a road for himself through the mob up +to the very seat of the Lord-Lieutenant. The room is already crammed +full with as many of the gentry as it will hold, the remainder block +the corridors. The vassals remain, perforce, in the courtyard, and hear +nothing of what is going on but the hubbub which reaches them through +the windows, and seems to delight them amazingly. + +"My noble friends," said Banfi, when there was at last something like +silence, and his eye had taken in every one present, "it was not without +good cause that I invited you to come to my house _armed_. You know +right well from the past history of our poor fatherland, how much our +nation has suffered because our Princes, either discontented with what +they already had, or unable to guard it, have perpetually called in +foreign troops. The historians have only recorded what has redounded to +the glory of our Princes--victories, battles, conquests; but they have +forgotten to mention that in the year 1617, in consequence of the +horrors of war, not a single child was born in the whole of +Transylvania, for famine and flight killed them all in their mothers' +wombs. But we know it, for we have suffered with and for the people. +Now, thank heaven! we are masters in our own homes. By the Peace of +Saint Gothard, the Turkish Sultan and the German Emperor have covenanted +not to march their troops through Transylvania, and by thus holding each +other in check, have vouchsafed us a little breathing-space, inasmuch as +we are no longer bound to take up arms for either of them, but can set +about healing our country's ancient wounds. A golden age is dawning upon +us. The whole world is fighting and bleeding, we alone possess peace; in +our land alone is the Magyar independent and his own master. True, ours +is not a very large realm, but at any rate 'tis our own. We may be a +very little people, but we recognize no greater anywhere. Now there are +persons who would destroy this golden age. There are persons who do not +care what an imprudently begun war may cost the country, provided their +ambition, provided their greed is gratified thereby; and if he whom they +attack chances to win, _they_ do not perish with their country, but +simply turn their coats, go over to the victors, and share the spoil +with them." + +"That is a slander!" cried some one from the background. Banfi at once +recognized Nalaczi's voice. + +The murmuring crowd turned towards the corner whence the interruption +had proceeded. + +"Let him alone, my friends," cried Banfi; "some satellite of Master +Michael Teleki's, I suppose. Let him, too, have the benefit of freedom +of speech! I, however, who am well acquainted with the upright +sentiments of the Estates of the Realm, can tell you positively, that +this thoughtless step can never be taken in a constitutional way, and if +they attempt by secret intrigues or sudden violence to bring about what +cannot be done by fair means, then too they will find me at my post. I +wish to defend the realm _and_ the Prince, but if it must be so, I will +defend the realm against the Prince himself. Now listen to what the +caballers have devised, so as to ensnare us once more in those meshes +from which we have hardly withdrawn our heads. Despite the peace, Turks +at one time, Tartars at another, cross our frontier, blackmail the +people, burn the towns, in short, force their friendship upon us in +every imaginable way. Eight days ago they ravaged Segesvar, and before +that they made incursions into the Csika district. That, however, is not +_my_ business. It concerns the Governors of the Saxon land and the +Captains of the Szeklers. It is true that the mouth of his Excellency, +Ali Pasha, has long been watering for my domains, only he has not quite +made up his mind how to pick a quarrel with me. A few days ago, however, +his roving bands captured the Prince's Patrol-officer, and proclaimed +through his mouth to the whole district a fresh tax of a farthing per +head. The poor peasantry rejoiced at getting off so cheaply, and +hastened to pay the tax without first asking me whether it was lawfully +levied. The artful Turk gained a double end thereby: in the first place, +he got the people to recognize the tax, and in the second place, he +found out exactly how many taxable persons resided in the district, and +immediately afterwards levied upon them the fearful blackmail of two +Hungarian florins per head!" + +The multitude howled with rage. + +"I immediately forbade all further payments. This tax does not indeed +fall upon our shoulders, for we are nobles; but it is just because we +are the peasants' masters that we are bound to save them from being +fleeced, and defend them at all hazards. The only answer I sent to his +Turkish Excellency was a pig's tail, and if he comes to levy the tax in +person, I swear by the living God, I'll give him a buffet he won't +forget as long as he lives." + +"We will cut him to pieces!" roared the mob, striking their scabbards, +and waving their morning-stars in the air. + +"And now, my faithful friends, return to your tents. My seneschals will +provide for your entertainment. If we must fight, I'll tell you when." + +The excited nobility then withdrew with rattling weapons and boisterous +approbation; only a few petitioners remained behind. + +The Klausenburg professors invited their patron to the public +examinations. Banfi promised to come, and distribute rewards to the best +scholars. + +As they retired Banfi beckoned to the remaining suppliants to approach +one by one. The first he turned to was Master Martin Kuncz, the Bishop +of the Klausenburg Unitarians. + +"How can I serve your Reverence?" + +"I have a complaint to make, gracious sir," returned Kuncz, with a bow +and a scrape. "The Klausenburg town-council has forcibly removed the +market booths belonging to the Unitarian Church. I beg you to help us to +regain possession." + +"I am very sorry I cannot help your Reverence," returned Banfi, +whistling through his teeth and buttoning up his coat. "That is a +constitutional affair, and concerns the Prince. The land indeed is mine, +but the cause belongs to his Highness's Courts." + +"The Prince gave me exactly the same answer, only reversed--'The cause +indeed belongs to my Courts, but the land is Banfi's, go to him.'" + +Banfi laughed good-humouredly, but Kuncz did not seem to regard the +matter as particularly entertaining. + +"Then, although my right is as clear as noon-day, I can turn nowhither?" + +Banfi shrugged his shoulders and stroked his beard. + +"Because your Reverence has right on your side, it by no means follows +that you will get justice." + +"Then his case is exactly the same as mine," interrupted some one, and +Banfi, looking round, beheld Dame Saint Pauli making towards him. + +The magnate pretended he did not see the widow, and nonchalantly +adjusted the gold and diamond chain of his mente; but the widow thrust +herself right under his nose, and thus began-- + +"Vainly do you condescend to ignore me, my lord. I am here though +uninvited." + +Banfi looked at her without saying a word, half amused and half +annoyed. + +"Or perhaps your lordship has forgotten my name?" continued the lady +sharply, smiting her breast and exclaiming--"I am the noble, +high-born----" + +"And worshipful," added Banfi, laughing. + +"Dowager Lady George Saint Pauli," continued the lady imperturbably, +"every scion of whose family is as noble and illustrious as the Prince +himself. I too have never forgotten what name I bear, but have proudly +confessed it before princes and generals--yea, even before greater men +than your Excellency." + +"Well, well, your ladyship. All that I know by heart, for I have heard +it from your own lips twenty times before. Come, tell me quickly what +you want." + +"Quickly, forsooth! Perchance your Excellency imagines that it is +possible to tell in a few words why the suit between us has lasted four +years already, and why the suit between the town of Klausenburg and my +family has been pending for three-and-sixty years?" + +"To cut matters short, I will tell you the whole story myself," +interrupted Banfi; "your ladyship can make your comment afterwards. Your +ladyship possesses a ruinous den in the midst of the Klausenburg +market-place----" + +"I beg your pardon--a manor-house just as good as your lordship's own +castle." + +"This shanty has for a long time disfigured the market-place. In vain +has the town-council negotiated with and sued your family in order to +have the house pulled down." + +"And we have not surrendered it. Quite right. A genuine nobleman never +sells property which he has purchased with his blood. It belongs to me, +and within my four walls neither Prince nor Diet has the right to +command. No, nor you either, my Lord-General." + +"My good lady, I never asked you to give me this venerable ruin for +nothing. I offered you ten thousand florins for it. For that sum I could +have bought up the whole gipsy quarter, though there is no such +dilapidated house there as yours." + +"Keep your money, sir. I'll not give up my house. My +seven-and-seventieth ancestor bought it two centuries ago, and therefore +I'll not barter it away. In it I was born; in it died my father and my +mother. If it offends your Excellency's eye to look down upon my +beggarly house from your splendid mansion, pray look the other way; but +at least do not grudge me the poor pleasure of spending the remainder of +my days in the room where my poor husband breathed his last sigh; and +let me tell you, sir, that I wouldn't take a palace in exchange for it." + +The widow's sobs at the recollection of her deceased husband here +enabled Banfi to put a word in, and he replied with passionate +vehemence-- + +"What I have said shall be done. The masons are already on their way to +pull down the house. The ten thousand florins you can have on +application to the town-council." + +"I don't want them. Throw them to your dogs," cried the woman furiously. +"Am I a peasant that you turn me thus out of my property? Whoever dares +to step across my threshold shall be driven out with a broomstick like a +cur. I have appealed to the Prince and to the Estates, and there you +have the sealed mandate in which the Diet forbids all and sundry to +invade my property. I'll nail it upon the gate,--'tis engrossed in a +good, legible hand,--and then I'll see who dares to break into my +house." + +"And I tell you that to-morrow your house will be razed to the ground, +even if it be surrounded by armalists, and then the Diet may build you a +new one if it is so disposed." + +And with that Banfi turned away in high dudgeon, and almost ran into +Nalaczi. + +The two men greeted each other with constrained politeness; and while +Dame Saint Pauli went off cursing, Nalaczi, after drawing a long breath, +began in the sweetest of tones-- + +"His Highness the Prince desires to bring a very unpleasant matter to +the notice of your Excellency." + +"I am all attention." + +"The Turk has thrice this year extorted gifts from us under various +pretexts." + +"You ought not to give them to him." + +"If we don't he will force upon us as Prince the refugee Nicholas +Zolyomi, now under the protection of the Porte." + +"Let him come! We will kick him out again." + +"Bravely spoken! But the Prince, weary of so much discord, and somewhat +fearful besides, has resolved to amnesty Zolyomi and allow him to +return." + +"In God's name let him do so then!" + +"Right, quite right! But your lordship knows very well that Zolyomi's +estates are now in your lordship's possession; the Prince therefore +finds himself compelled to request your lordship to surrender these +estates to the returning Zolyomi, if it would not greatly inconvenience +your lordship." + +Nalaczi had been a little too curt in the delivery of his message, +although he had done his best to sugar it with respectful epithets. + +"What!" cried Banfi, stepping back, "do you really suppose that I will +give up these estates? The Diet gave them to me with the onerous +condition of equipping at my own cost twelve regiments for the defence +of the country. That onerous condition I have faithfully fulfilled, and +now you fancy that I shall surrender the estates merely because there is +to be one fool the more in the land? Preposterous!" + +"But if the Prince wishes it!" + +"I'll not give them up whoever wishes it." + +"And that is the answer I'm to take back?" + +"You'll please take back these two words," said Banfi, emphasizing each +syllable--"I won't!" + +"Your most obedient servant," said Nalaczi, and with an ironical +obeisance he turned upon his heel. + +"Servus," replied Banfi contemptuously, as if he were throwing a bone to +a dog; and then he looked out into the corridor, and seeing some of his +vassals waiting there, hat in hand, roughly asked them what they wanted. + +When the good people saw that their liege lord was in a villainous +humour, they held back, but the steward pushed them in. + +"We ought to have brought the tithes," began the oldest peasant, with a +whining voice and downcast eyes, "but it was impossible." + +"Why?" + +"Because we have nothing, my lord. There has been no rain; the crops are +a failure; we have not even seed enough to sow our fields. In the +village the people are living on chance roots and fungus, and when these +are all gone, God only knows what will become of us." + +"Look now," cried Banfi, "another visitation of God, and yet we must +needs have a war to boot! Steward, open at once the demesne granaries, +and distribute seed to the vassals, that they may sow their fields. See +too that the poor people have enough corn to feed them through the +winter." + +The poor peasants would have kissed Banfi's hands, but he would not +suffer it. A tear stood in his eye. + +"For what am I your lord if not to lighten your burdens when you are in +need? My stewards will carry out my orders. If my own storehouses fall +short, you shall have corn for ready money from Moldavia." + +And with that he retired into the adjoining chamber. + + * * * * * + +Banfi's wife with a beating heart heard his familiar footsteps drawing +nearer. + +There she sits behind the fragrant jasmines and the quivering mimosas, +herself as pale as the jasmine flowers and as tremulous as the mimosas. + +Around her is nothing but pomp and splendour. On the walls hang cut +Venetian mirrors in gold frames, portraits of kings and princes, the +handsomest among which is John Kemeny's, painted while he still held +with the Turk and wore close-cropped hair and a long beard in the +Turkish fashion, so much affected by the magnates of those days. + +On one side of the room is a wardrobe with countless drawers, a +masterpiece of art, inlaid with tortoise-shell, lapis lazuli, and +mother-of-pearl. In the centre of the room stands a variegated table +surmounted by silver candelabra of exquisite workmanship. Within glass +almeries the family treasures are piled up in gorgeous heaps: pocals +encrusted with gems; gold-enamelled stags, whose heads can be screwed +off and on; large silver filigree flower-baskets, each scarcely heavier +than a crown-piece, filled with posies of precious stones of every hue, +artistically disposed in dazzling groups, with here and there a +butterfly poising above them with delicate wings of transparent gold. + +Heavy red silk curtains fall down from the lofty windows to the floor, +and the window-sills are covered with the most gorgeous of the flowers +then in vogue, among which the shining, velvety, amaranthine +cock's-comb, the liriodendron with its dependent, tulip-like calices, +and the mesembryanthemum, with its leaves like dewy pearls, are the most +conspicuous. + +Of all these flowers only the trembling mimosa and the pale jasmine +harmonized with the lady of the house, whose face contrasted so sadly +with the gorgeous abode. The tiny, delicate figure seemed almost lost in +the lofty arched room. She could not even have moved one of the massive +morocco arm-chairs, nor have raised one of the huge heavy candlesticks, +nor have pulled aside one of the heavy atlas curtains. Everything around +her seemed to remind her of her feebleness. Every sound made her +nervous, and when the well-known footsteps reached her threshold, all +the blood rushed to her face. She was about to leap up when the door +opened, and immediately she was as pale again as ever, and incapable of +rising from her seat. + +Banfi hastened, with expansive joy, towards his trembling wife, who +could not for the moment find words to welcome him, seized both her +delicate hands, and looked kindly into her dreamy eyes. + +"So pretty and yet so sad!" + +The lady tried to smile. + +"And how sad that smile is too," remarked Banfi, gently embracing the +sylph-like lady. + +Lady Banfi laid her head on her husband's bosom, threw her arms round +his neck, drew down his face to hers, and kissed it. + +"That kiss too, how sad it is!" + +She turned away to conceal her tears. + +"What is it?" asked Banfi, stroking his wife's forehead. "What is the +matter? Why are you so pale? What do you want?" + +"What do I want?" returned Lady Banfi, turning her streaming eyes up to +her husband and sighing deeply. Then she dried her eyes, placed her arm +in his, and as if to give another turn to the conversation, led him to +her flowers. + +"Look at that passion-flower, how withered it is, and yet it is planted +in a porcelain vase, and I water it every day with distilled water. But +once I forgot to draw up the blinds, and now look how the poor thing has +faded. It wants nothing--but sunshine." + +"It seems," said Banfi, in a low voice, "as if we were to address each +other in the language of flowers." + +"What do I want?" repeated Lady Banfi, and leaning on her husband's +neck, she burst forth sobbing. "I want my sunshine--your love." + +Banfi at that moment looked very uncomfortable. He sat down on his +wife's chair, took her gently upon his knee, and asked her in a kind +tone, but not without a touch of temper too-- + +"Am I less able to show you my love now than heretofore?" + +"Oh, no!--not less! But I see you so seldom. You have been away these +six weeks, and you would not let me come to you." + +"What, my lady! Have you suddenly become ambitious? Would you shine at +the court of the Prince? Believe me, your court is much more splendid +than his, and not nearly so dangerous." + +"Oh, you know right well that I neither seek splendour nor fear danger. +When our only shelter was a rude simple hut, nay, sometimes only a tent, +half buried in the snow, then you made me lay my head upon your breast, +covered me with your mantle, and I was so happy, oh, so happy. +Oftentimes the din of battle, the thunder of the cannon, scared sleep +from our eyes, and yet I was so happy. You mounted your horse, I sank +down in prayer; and when you came back blood- and dust-stained, but +unhurt, how happy I was then!" + +"Heaven grant that you may always be so. But there is a happiness which +stands higher than domestic happiness; there are matters where the mere +sight of you would be to me a hindrance and an obstacle." + +"Oh, I know what they are--sweet adventures, lovely women, eh?" returned +Lady Banfi, with an arch voice but perhaps a bleeding heart. + +"You are mistaken," cried Banfi, springing hastily from his chair. "I +was alluding to the commonweal," and he began to pace angrily up and +down the room. + +When a husband takes umbrage at such jests, it is a sure sign that he +feels himself hit. + +At last Banfi unknitted his bushy brows and stood stock still before his +trembling wife, who, ever since her husband entered the room, had been +the prey of the most conflicting emotions; joy and grief, fear and rage, +love and jealousy, still struggled for the mastery in her agitated +breast. + +"Margaret," he began, in an unsteady voice, "Margaret, you are jealous, +and jealousy is the first step towards hatred." + +"Then hate me rather than forget me!" cried the lady with a sudden +outburst, which she instantly regretted. + +"But what do you want me to do? Have you a single reason for suspecting +me? Perhaps you want me to render you an exact account of how many miles +I've travelled, how many people I've spoken to, like that blockhead Gida +Bertai, for instance, who takes a diary with him every time he leaves +the house, and reports to his better-half every half-hour? To hear you +speak, one would fancy that I keep you under lock and key, like Abraham +Thoroczkai keeps his wife, who, whenever he goes from home, puts a +padlock on his wife's chamber, and on his return exacts an oath from +all his neighbours that no one has spoken to her in the meantime." + +Lady Banfi laughed, but it was a laugh which ended in a sigh. + +"You evade the question with a jest. I certainly do not accuse you. I do +not watch you, and if you were to deceive me I should be none the wiser. +But look! there is that in a woman's heart (a sort of sixth sense) which +smarts she knows not why, and whereby she can tell instinctively whether +her beloved's love is on the wax or wane. I know not, nor wish to know, +whence you come and whither you go; but this I do know--you stay away a +long time, and do not make much haste in coming back. Banfi, I suffer--I +suffer more than you can think." + +"Madame!" cried Banfi, turning upon his wife with a flushed face, "in +this country divorce suits do not last very long!" + +Lady Banfi fell back into her chair, pressed her hands to her heart, and +gasped for breath. She uttered one sharp, plaintive cry, but no other +sound came from her parted lips. It was as though some one had suddenly +severed the strings of a harp with a sword. + +Half fainting, the wife looked up at her husband, as if to make sure +whether after all it was not a mere jest, though certainly a very +ghastly one. + +"You are unhappy," continued Banfi, "and I cannot help you. You are so +romantic, and I'm not given that way at all. Perhaps my heart wounds +yours, and I'm sorry for it; but your heart certainly wounds mine, and I +won't stand it. I recognize no tyrant over me, not even in love, and +I'll not endure persecution--no, not even the persecution of a woman's +tears. Let us rend our hearts asunder. Better do it now while they will +still bleed from the rupture than wait till they drop away of their own +accord. Let us rather part while we still love one another, than wait +till we have learned to hate." + +During the whole of this cruel speech the lady panted convulsively for +breath, as if a heavy nightmare were pressing upon her bosom and +depriving her of speech, till at last her emotion found an escape, and +she uttered a piercing scream. + +"Banfi! you are killing me!" + +Banfi himself seemed aghast at this cry, and turning round in the very +act of quitting the room, cast a glance at his wife. + +He did not perceive that at that moment the door opened and some one +entered; he only saw that his wife's agonized countenance was suddenly +distorted by an unspeakably painful smile. A forced smile on those +convulsed features was something too terrible. Banfi thought at first +that his wife had gone mad. + +The next instant Dame Banfi rose impetuously from her chair, and +exclaiming, "Anna! my darling Anna!" rushed towards the door. + +It was then that Banfi turned round, and saw before him Anna Bornemissa, +the consort of Michael Apafi. That lady's sharp eyes instantly detected +the agitation of the consorts, though they both did their best to hide +it, and not without success. But she made as though she saw nothing, and +drawing Margaret to her breast, kindly held out her hand to Banfi. + +"I heard your voices outside," said she, "so I came in without waiting +to be announced." + +"Ah, yes ... we were ... laughing," said Dame Banfi, covertly wiping her +eyes with the corner of her pocket-handkerchief. + +"And to what circumstances do we owe this extraordinary piece of good +fortune?" asked Banfi, concealing his embarrassment behind an +exaggerated courtesy. + +"As you did not bring my sister to see me," returned the Princess, with +a reproachful smile, "I thought I would just visit my poor exiled +Hungarian kinswoman myself." + +Banfi felt the sting of these last words, and murmured as he stroked his +beard-- + +"Here my fair sister-in-law may do with me what she will. She may make +me the butt of her sparkling wit; she may overwhelm me with her playful +sallies. In the Hall of the Diet, before the throne of the Prince, we +stand, face to face, as foes; but here you may command me, here I am +only your most devoted servant, who delights to do homage to your +charms, and is beside himself for joy to have you as his guest." + +With these words Banfi embraced the majestic lady with easy familiarity; +then, turning to his wife, added, not without a touch of malice-- + +"I hope you will not be jealous of Anna?" + +The Princess hastened to reply instead of Margaret. + +"Methinks you fear me too much to make love to me." + +"I might perhaps if you were my wife. Yet we were near being wedded +once. There was a time when I wanted to make you my bride." + +"But it went no further than wishing," returned the Princess, laughing. + +"We soon learned to know each other," continued Banfi. "There would have +been no room in one house for two such heads as ours, which find one +realm too small to hold them both. We both of us love to rule. We should +have been hard put to it if one had been obliged to obey the other. +Things fell out for the best. We have found our corresponding +halves--you Apafi; I Margaret--and we are both contented." + +With these words Banfi tenderly kissed his wife's hand and departed, +leaving the sisters alone. + +Anna, with noble gravity, placed her hand on the shoulder of her sister, +who looked up to her with a soft smile like an innocent child regarding +its guardian angel. + +"You have been weeping," began the Princess; "'tis in vain that you try +to put a good face on it." + +"I have not been weeping!" returned Margaret, keeping her countenance +with wonderful self-control. + +"Well, well; I'm glad you conceal it. That shows you love him; and if +ever there was a time when your husband needed your love, your +watchfulness, and your protection, it is now." + +"Your words alarm me! You have something extraordinary to tell me!" + +"My coming here at all must have been enough to have alarmed you. You +may well suppose that I would not come to your castle for nothing. We +have both equal cause to fear a certain person, and if we do not quickly +come to an understanding, one of us may lose what she prizes most in the +world." + +"Speak! oh, speak!" cried Dame Banfi, trembling, and making her sister +sit down beside her on the sofa. + +"Our husbands have hated each other from the first. They were always of +different opinions, belonged to opposite parties, and early became +accustomed to regard each other as foes. Woe betide us if this hatred +should turn to open strife, and we should see our loved ones compass +each other's ruin." + +"Oh, I can positively assure you that Banfi nourishes no hostile feeling +against your husband." + +"I do not apprehend Apafi's fall, but your husband's. The throne upon +which he was placed by force has quite changed Apafi's character. I +perceive, to my consternation, that he has begun to grow jealous of his +authority. Why, even at Ersekujvar, when he first became Prince, he +expressed his anxiety to the Grand Vizier that Gabriel Haller was +plotting for the diadem, whereupon the Grand Vizier had poor Haller +beheaded there and then without my husband's knowledge; but Apafi still +recollects the message your husband sent him on that occasion, namely, +that ere long he would tear from his shoulders the green velvet mantle, +the symbol of the princely dignity." + +"Oh, my God! what must I not fear?" + +"Nothing, so long as I do not lose my husband's favour. While you are +securely sleeping, I am watchfully guarding against his passionate +outbursts, and hitherto God has given me strength to fight against the +monsters who would make of his reign a bloody memorial. But there is a +certain condition of mind to which my husband is liable when my +influence over him loses all its talismanic power; when, revolting +against his own nature, his gentleness turns to ravening savagery; when +his eyes, usually so ready to weep at the death of his lowliest vassal, +seem to thirst for blood; when he throws off his habitual +circumspectness and becomes wildly reckless. And this condition--I blush +to confess it--is drunkenness. I do not bring it against him as an +accusation. He whom we love has no fault in our eyes." + +"Except one thing--his infidelity to us," interrupted Margaret. + +"That too, yes, that too must be forgiven when it becomes a question of +saving his life," replied the Princess. + +"Oh, Anna!" cried Margaret, "you make me suspect mysteries which you +will not reveal to me." + +"What you ought to know you shall know. A little while ago your husband, +with haughty presumption, opposed himself to a mighty faction which has +kings for its confederates and kings for its antagonists; he might just +as well have opposed Destiny herself. He is too proud to calculate the +dangers which he thus draws down upon his head; or does he really think +that they who sharpen their swords against a reigning monarch would +suffer for an instant one of their own subjects to raise his head +against them? And Banfi has threatened, mocked, insulted them, and +entangled the meshes of their well and widely laid plans--nay, more, he +has encountered and browbeaten them in the very presence of the +Prince." + +Dame Banfi folded her arms in timid resignation. + +"I see the storm which is gathering over Banfi's head. In his drunken +fits, Apafi has let fall hints which have filled my soul with terror, +and I don't wish Apafi's to be the hand to strike down Banfi for the +sake of others. They will try to catch him at every turn, but we two +will watch over him. I will endeavour to keep back the stroke, yet +should it fall, 'tis for you to ward it off. We must both possess the +entire love and confidence of our consorts, so as to be able to +intervene energetically and decisively should they come to blows. For +would it not be frightful if one fell by the other's hand, and one of us +were the cause of the other's misery?" + +Margaret timidly pressed Anna's hand. + +"What am I to do? Oh, my God! what can I do? How can I intervene? I have +no power." + +"Your power lies in your love, watchfulness, and self-sacrifice," +returned Dame Apafi with an exalted look, striving to inspire her weaker +sister with something of her own strength. + +At that moment the fate of two men was in the hands of two angels, and +the fate of those two men was one with the fate of Transylvania. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE MIDNIGHT BATTLE. + + +As Denis Banfi, after quitting his wife's chamber, was descending the +spiral staircase which led to the hall, he saw a young horseman come +galloping at full speed into the courtyard. + +The horseman was covered with blood and foam. As he sprang from his +horse the beast collapsed altogether; but the rider rushed pell-mell +towards Banfi, who, recognizing in him one of his captains, Gabriel +Benkoe, went to meet him, and asked him what was the matter. + +"Sir," began the gasping knight, catching his breath, "Ali Pasha is +attacking Banfi-Hunyad." + +"Is that all?" said Banfi gruffly, not displeased that Fate had given +his irritated temper something to rend and tear. "Send Veer hither!" he +cried to his retainers; "and you, when you have got your breath, just +tell me how the matter went." + +"I must be brief, my lord. I come from the thick of the fight. Yesterday +a troop of Kurdish freebooters appeared before Banfi-Hunyad. Your +lordship's captain, Gregory Soeter, anticipating that they had come to +levy blackmail, went out against them with the castle bands, engaged in +combat with them, drove them from beneath the walls after a sharp +contest, and, following up his advantage, sounded a charge and pursued +the fugitives in the direction of Zenlelke. We were still pursuing the +Kurds, who fled headlong, when suddenly we saw ourselves attacked in +flank; and in a trice the whole plain was swarming with Turkish +horsemen, who overran us like ants. I cannot exactly tell their numbers, +but I saw three horse-tail standards with my own eyes, which proves +that the Pasha himself was with the expedition. Soeter had no time to +make good his retreat to Banfi-Hunyad." + +"The devil!" cried Banfi. + +"Every one of us had to do with two or three of them. Soeter himself +seized a morning-star with one hand and a broadsword with the other, and +cried to me--I was by his side--'My son, leave the battle-field, cut +your way through! Fly to Bonczhida and tell the news!' I heard no more. +The surging masses parted us; so I threw my shield over my shoulders, +bowed my head deep down over my saddle-bow, gave my nag the spur, and +galloped out of the fight. About one hundred horsemen pursued me, the +darts fell like a hailstorm on my shield; but my good horse, well aware +of the danger, redoubled his speed, and so the pursuers lost trace of +me." + +"Did you come direct to Bonczhida?" + +"No; I made a side-spring to Banfi-Hunyad, to warn the people there of +their danger, so that they might have time to escape to the mountains." + +"You did wisely. Then the people have escaped?" + +"By no means. It was in front of Dame Vizaknai's house that I told the +news to the people. Their faces turned pale, when all at once the lady +of the house appeared with a drawn sword in her hand, and as if +possessed by the spirits of a hundred warriors, stood among the people +with sparkling eyes and thus addressed them-- + +"'Are ye men? If so, seize your weapons, go out upon the ramparts, and +show the world that you can defend the place where your children were +born and your fathers lie buried. But if ye are cowards, then fly +whither you will; but the women will remain behind here with me, to show +the savage foe that none is too weak to fight for hearth and home.'" + +Banfi, with a hoarse voice, called to his armourers to bring him +breastplate, spear, and helmet, and beckoned to the panting messenger to +go on with his story. + +"At these words the people uttered a loud and furious cry. The women, +like so many Bacchantes, ran in search of weapons, and mounted the +ramparts by the side of their husbands, whom the determination of their +wives had turned into veritable heroes. Every one seized the first thing +that came to hand--scythes, spades, flails. Meanwhile, Dame Vizaknai was +everywhere at once, marshalling and haranguing the combatants, +barricading the church, breaking down the bridge, so that when I left +the town, it was already in a fair state of defence. Thereupon I swam +the Koeroes, to avoid making a long circuit, and came hither through the +woods and by-ways." + +During the latter part of this narrative Banfi seemed to be nearly +beside himself. He waited now for neither armour nor helmet, but roared +for his horse; and as he sprang into the saddle, cried to Veer, who was +hastening up-- + +"After me to Banfi-Hunyad! March day and night. The infantry must go +round by the Gyalyui Alps. The cavalry will follow me to Klausenburg. +Light beacons in the mountains as you approach, that I may attack the +foe simultaneously with the vanguard." + +"Would it not perhaps be better if your Excellency remained behind with +the main army?" said George Veer, with an anxious face. + +"Do what I bid you, sir!" was Banfi's reply; and giving his horse the +spur, he dashed off, followed by about half-a-dozen of his suite. + +"What ails him then, that he will neither wait for us, nor inform his +wife and the Princess of what has happened?" + +"He was aghast when I told him that Dame Vizaknai was defending +Banfi-Hunyad," said Benkoe apologetically. "She is an old flame of his +whom he has long forgotten; but his youthful affection seemed to revive +him when he heard of her heroic audacity." + +George Veer, satisfied with this explanation, ordered his squadrons to +take horse forthwith; and after previously informing Lady Banfi that he +was off on a petty raid, departed for Klausenburg, leaving the command +of the infantry to Captain Michael Angel, who did not break up till +evening, the road along the Snow Mountains being much the shorter way. + +Just as they were about to start, a tattered young Szekler, with pale +cheeks but strong arms, stepped forth. His companions had pushed him +into the front ranks. + +"Come, sing us a battle-song!" they cried. + +It was the rude, popular poet, Ambrose Gelenze. + +Drawing from the pocket of his tunic his Bible, on the inside of the +parchment covers of which he used to jot down his improvised war-songs, +he placed himself in front of the host, and began to sing the following +simple lay, the whole of the Transylvanian gentry repeating it word for +word as they marched after him-- + + "Now dawns serene the morning sheen, + The wonted hour hath come; + Sounds bold and free the merry march, + Nor bush nor brake is dumb! + Then up! to horse! and scale the height, + Bold Magyar! Szekler steeled in fight! + And sturdy Saxon hind! + A laggard he who doth not hie + When straight before the road doth lie; + And where there is no road to go, then climb, nor look behind!" + +This song, sung by thousands and thousands of warriors, gradually died +away in the distance. + + * * * * * + +George Veer, on reaching Klausenburg, no longer found Banfi there. The +Lord-Lieutenant with two hundred horsemen had departed an hour before. + +Veer, after allowing his men a brief halt, followed Banfi all night long +without being able to overtake him; the Baron had always the start of +him, though sometimes only a few minutes. + +It was already late in the night when Banfi with his two hundred +horsemen reached the point where the Koeroes intersects the woody dale; +just where a bridge crosses the stream the Turk had pitched his camp. +Watchful Bedouins lay stretched on their bellies there, with their long +muskets in their hands. It was impossible to surprise them. + +In the direction of Banfi-Hunyad a red glow illuminated the sky, +alternately waxing and waning. + +Leaving his horsemen in ambush on the opposite shore, Banfi with four +companions descended to the stream to seek for a ford. The Koeroes is +there so rapid that it can unhorse the firmest rider. Fortunately it had +fallen so much in consequence of the summer drought, that Banfi soon +found a place where the water flowed more calmly, and waded successfully +through it with his escort. One of them he sent back to fetch the rest, +but he himself with the other three remained on the opposite bank +looking steadily in the direction of the fire. + +Meanwhile a patrol of Bedouin horsemen, who were keeping watch on the +bank, perceived the three riders and their leader, and challenged them. + +Banfi would have fallen back, but three of the Bedouins charged upon him +forthwith, while the three others with couched lances fell upon his +comrades. + +"Bend your heads down over the necks of your horses, and seize their +lances with your left hands!" cried Banfi to his companions; and with +that they all four drew their swords, went at full tilt against the foe, +and collided beneath the dark shadows without another word. + +Banfi was in the centre. The lances of the three Bedouins whizzed +through the air simultaneously, and Banfi's comrades fell on both sides +of him, transfixed, from their horses, while he with his left hand +skilfully disarmed one of the spearmen, at the same time dealing him a +blow with his right hand which cleft his skull. He then turned +single-handed upon his two nearest assailants, and cut down one with his +lance and the other with his sword. + +But now the three remaining horsemen fell furiously upon him. + +"Come on then!" shouted Banfi, gnashing his teeth; and with that +terrible humour peculiar to certain warriors in the hour of danger, he +added--"I'll teach you how to wield the spear, my boys!" and setting his +back against a clump of trees, he stuck his sword into its sheath, +seized his spear with both hands, and not three minutes had elapsed +before all three Bedouins had fallen from their horses to the ground. + +Then he looked around to see if any more were coming, and was delighted +to observe that the Turks at the bridge had heard nothing of the tussle, +while his two hundred horsemen had come down to the river-side and were +noiselessly crossing to the opposite bank. + +Some of the fallen Bedouins were still moaning and groaning. + +"Smash their skulls in, that they may not betray us with their cries!" + +"Ought we not to await Veer's troops?" asked one of the captains. + +"We cannot. We haven't time!" replied Banfi, with his eyes fixed upon +the ruddy horizon, and the little band proceeded covertly through field +and forest. + +Soon a distant hubbub struck upon their ears, and when they had climbed +to the top of a little hill, Banfi-Hunyad emerged before their eyes. + +Banfi gave a sigh of relief. It was not the town that was burning, but +the haystacks. The roofs of the houses had been taken off beforehand by +the inhabitants themselves to prevent the enemy from setting them on +fire. Even the church and castle were roofless, and the Turkish host +could be seen swarming round them by the light of the conflagration, +whilst from the battlements a fiery rain of sulphur and pitch, +occasionally intermingled with heavy beams, poured down upon the +besiegers, and drove them back from the walls. + +Ali Pasha had not waited for his artillery,--it had stuck fast in the +wretched roads,--imagining that he could easily storm a place defended +only by women and peasants. But it is notorious that despair makes every +one a soldier, and that even scythes and axes are good weapons in +resolute hands. + +At this spectacle Banfi's features grew flaming red. He fancied he saw a +white female form on the pinnacle of the tower, immediately gave his +horse the spur, and rushed forward like a whirlwind, crying to his +horsemen-- + +"Don't count the enemy now; we shall have time enough for that +afterwards, when we have cut them all down!" and in a quarter of an hour +the little band had reached the camp before the town. + +There every one was slumbering. Whilst one half of the host was storming +the town the other found time to repose. Even the heads of the sentries +hung drowsily down. There they lay, close to their horses, and only +awoke out of their dreams when Banfi was already charging through their +ranks. + +The Baron, who seemed bent upon relieving the besieged single-handed, +cut down everything that came in his way; while the Turks, scared out of +their slumbers, blindly snatched up sword and spear, and began +massacring each other, despite all the efforts of the Tsahusz's to +restore order. + +Meanwhile Banfi was madly forcing his way through the Turkish host +surrounding the church. The foremost rows fled back aghast at this +unexpected onslaught; but a brigade of Ali Pasha's picked Mamelukes rode +forward and arrested the flight. + +A gigantic Moor stood at the head of this troop. His horse too was an +extraordinarily big beast, a stallion sixteen hands high. The +protuberant, swelling muscles of the dusky giant's naked arms shone like +steel in the hellish glare of the burning haystacks, his broad mouth was +bleeding from the blow of a stone, and the whites of his eyes gleamed +ghost-like out of his dark countenance. + +"Halt, Giaour!" roared the Moor, with a voice which rose above the din +of battle, and he went straight for Banfi. In his enormous fist sparkled +a sabre as broad as a man's hand; it appeared too heavy even for him. + +Two hussars riding in front of Banfi fell right and left before two +blows from the monster, one without his head, the other cleft to the +shoulder. Throwing back his arm for a third stroke, the Moor rose in his +stirrups, and exclaimed with a voice of thunder-- + +"I am Kariassar, the invincible! Thank thy God that thou diest by my +hand!" and with that he swept his sword backwards, and dealt a +tremendous blow at Banfi's head. + +The Baron, with the utmost sangfroid, brought his sword in front of his +face, and at the very moment when Kariassar let fly at him, made with +lightning-like swiftness a dextrous lunge at the Moor's fist--it was +what fencers call _an inner cut_--striking off Kariassar's four fingers, +so that the heavy scimitar fell clashing out of the fingerless hand. + +The black's face grew pale from rage and pain. With a frightful howl he +instantly threw himself on Banfi, and disregarding fresh wounds on his +face and shoulders, seized Banfi's right hand with his left, and must +have dragged him from his horse by sheer brute force if the Baron had +not had an uncommonly firm seat. + +It seemed as if the Moor were capable of crushing him with only one +hand. But Banfi was a good rider, and now he pressed his horse tightly +with his knee, whereupon the noble beast reared and plunged; and while +the giant was struggling with his master, and tearing at his lacerated +arm with a lion's strength, the war-horse turned suddenly on the Moor, +struck him a blow on the thigh with its front hoof, bit his brawny +breast with foaming mouth, and shook the bitten part between its teeth. + +Kariassar yelled aloud, and suddenly relinquishing the Baron, grasped +his poniard with his left hand, and writhing with pain, drew it from its +sheath; but at the self-same moment Banfi dealt a rapid stroke at the +giant's neck. The huge head rolled suddenly to the ground, and while the +blood shot up in a threefold jet from the severed neck, the headless +figure remained for an instant swaying on its horse, and spasmodically +waving its poniard--a fearful spectacle to friend and foe. + +At the sight of their leader's fall the terrified Mamelukes scattered +in all directions, trampling one another down in their panic-flight. At +the same time the defenders of the church threw down their barricades +and made a sortie, Dame Vizaknai at their head with a drawn sword, and +close behind her the priests as standard-bearers with the church's +banners. The great besieging host, thus caught between two fires, was +cut in two, leaving a free space on one side for the scythes of the +peasants, and on the other for the csakanys of the hussars. + +The csakany, by the way, is a mighty weapon in the hands of those who +know how to use it. Its strokes are almost unavoidable. Its long, +pointed beak smites down with such force as to crush shield and helmet +to pieces, and a sword is no defence against it. + +Step by step the besieged and the relief party drew nearer to each +other, driving before them the Janissaries, who contested every inch of +ground, and even when lying on the ground half-dead, aimed with their +daggers at the feet of the horses which trampled them down. + +Dame Vizaknai sprang towards Denis Banfi and seized his horse by the +bridle. + +"The danger is great, my lord! The Turk is twenty to one. Come behind +the churchyard wall." + +"I'll not budge a single step," replied Banfi coolly; "but that is no +reason why you should not save yourself behind your barricades." + +"Not another step do I budge either," rejoined Dame Vizaknai. + +"I can defend myself!" cried Banfi vehemently. + +"And I too!" replied the lady proudly. + +The next instant fresh squadrons came streaming up from every quarter, +as if they had fallen from the clouds or sprung from the earth--infantry +and cavalry with long muskets, bows and arrows, and ribboned darts. + +"Ali! Ali! Allah akbar!" + +The Hungarian forces ranged themselves in battle array, with their backs +to the churchyard wall, and awaited the attack. From the end of the +street a glittering array of horsemen was seen approaching; it consisted +of a picked corps of Spahis[39] on stately Arabs, whose emerald-set +saddles sparkled in the firelight. In their midst rode Ali on a slender, +snow-white Barbary steed, in his hand flashed a diamond-hilted +scimitar; on his head he wore a turbaned helmet; his long black beard +fell down over his silver breastplate. On coming within gunshot of +Banfi's host, he halted and marshalled his squadrons. + + [Footnote 39: _Spahis._ Light Turkish cavalry.] + +Hitherto Banfi had not touched his pistols, the wonderfully-carved ivory +handles of which peeped forth from his holsters. But now he drew them +forth and handed them to Dame Vizaknai. + +"Take them!" said he; "you must have wherewith to defend yourself." + +Meanwhile Ali Pasha had sent forward a herald, who, drawing near to the +Hungarians, delivered the following message to them-- + +"My master, Ali Pasha, informs you, O ye unbelieving Giaours, that every +loophole of escape is closed. Wherefore then strive against him further? +Lay down your weapons and throw yourselves upon his mercy." + +Scarcely had the herald finished speaking when two shots resounded, and +he fell dead from his horse. Dame Vizaknai had fired both pistols at him +by way of reply. Then Ali Pasha beckoned furiously to the squadrons +surrounding him, and from all sides there rained darts, bullets, and +arrows on the little band of Hungarians. The same moment Dame Vizaknai +climbed on to Banfi's stirrups, and supporting herself on his shoulders +with one hand, cried-- + +"Fear nought, my friends!" + +A crackling report and a hissing shower of darts followed. Dame Vizaknai +covered Banfi with her body, and after the fiery tempest had roared +past, the Baron felt her hold upon his arm relaxing. An arrow had struck +her just above the heart. + +"That arrow was meant for you," said Dame Vizaknai, with a faint voice, +and she sank dead to the ground. + +"Poor lady!" cried Banfi, with a look of compassion. "She always loved +me, and would never show it." + +And then blood flowed instead of tears. + +The Turkish host surrounded the Hungarians on every side, but were +unable to break through their ranks. Banfi was already fighting with his +eighth Spahi, who like the seven others was at last overcome by the +Baron's extraordinary dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage. + +"Why can't you cut down that grizzly dog?" roared he furiously, and +galloped himself against Banfi, driving his flying followers out of his +way with the flat part of his sword-blade. "'Tis I, Ali Pasha, who now +stands before thee, vile hog!" bellowed he, gnashing his teeth, "thou +son of a dog, thou." + +"Keep your titles for yourself," cried Banfi, and riding up to the Pasha +he dealt him a tremendous blow on the helmet with his sword, so that +sword and helmet were both smashed to pieces, and the champions reeled +back half stunned. Ali quickly snatched from his armour-bearers a round +shield, while Banfi was hastily provided with a steel csakany, and again +they rushed upon each other. + +The csakany fell with fearful force upon the shield, and knocked a hole +through it, while Ali lunged forward with his scimitar, and this time +only a very dexterous twist of the head saved Banfi's life. + +"I'll play ball with thy head!" cried Ali contemptuously. + +"And I'll make a broom of thy beard!" retorted Banfi. + +"I'll have thy coat-of-arms nailed up over my stables!" + +"And thy skin, stuffed with sawdust, shall serve me as a scarecrow!" + +"Thou rebellious slave!" + +"Thou barber's apprentice turned general." + +Every abusive epithet was accompanied by a fresh and furious blow. + +"Thou dishonourable girl-snatcher," cried the Pasha, with foaming mouth. +"Thou dost filch Turkish maidens for thy unclean embraces; therefore +will I carry off thy wife and make her the lowest slave in my harem." + +To Banfi the world seemed all at once to be turning round and round. His +soul had received three wounds, which quite divested him of humanity. + +"Thou accursed devil," he roared, gnashing his teeth, seized his csakany +by the middle with both hands, sprang closer to Ali, and whirled his +weapon with lightning-like rapidity over his head, so that it flew round +and round in his hands like the sail of a windmill, crashing down now +with its axe-head, now with its bullet-shaped nether end on his +antagonist's shield, and attacking and defending himself at the same +time. Ali Pasha, confused at this altogether novel mode of attack, would +have retired; but the two war-horses, furiously biting each other about +the head and neck, were now taking part in the contest of their masters, +and could not be parted. + +The Spahis, seeing their leader waver, threw themselves between the +combatants and drove from Banfi's side his escort of hussars. The Baron +now perceiving that all his people had fled to the churchyard, directed +one last swift stroke at Ali's shield, which, to judge from Ali's +agonized howl, penetrated it at the very spot where fitted on to the +arm. Banfi had no time for a third encounter, as he was now completely +surrounded. + +At that moment a well-known flourish of trumpets resounded in the rear +of the combatants, and a fresh and general battle-cry mingled with the +din-- + +"God and St. Michael." + +George Veer had arrived with the banderia. + +"God and St. Michael!" thundered the leader of the nobility, conspicuous +among them all in his silver coat of mail with the bearskin thrown over +his shoulders; and with his toothed battle-axe he hewed his way through +the ranks of the astonished Turks. + +The attack was skilfully conducted; the mounted nobility pressed on from +all sides, simultaneously bringing the Turkish host everywhere into +confusion, so that one wing could not assist the other, and the +outermost ranks were always borne down by superior numbers. + +Ali Pasha had received a bad wound in the arm from Banfi's last blow, +which had daunted his courage, so he stuck his spurs into his horse's +sides and gave the signal for retreat. + +The Turkish host was driven head and heels out of the town, and its +leaders endeavoured to retreat among the Gyalyui Alps, hoping to rally +it again in the narrow defiles. + +Outside the town the battle, fast becoming a rout, still raged +furiously. The Hungarians scattered about the burning hayricks, and were +so intermingled in the darkness of the night with their opponents that +they could only distinguish one another by their battle-cries. + +The harassed Turkish host, which in the darkness and confusion at one +time took refuge among the enemy, and at another cut down their own +comrades, tried to imitate the battle-cry of the Hungarians, but this +only made the mischief greater; for as they could not pronounce the +words "Angel Michael," but always cried "Anchal Michel," they exposed +themselves more completely to the Hungarians. + +The Turkish army was now completely beaten; more than a thousand of its +dead lay in the streets and around the church, and only the mountain +passes, into which it was not prudent for the Hungarians to follow them, +saved them from utter annihilation. + +George Veer therefore sounded the recall, whilst Banfi, with restless +rage, rushed hither and thither after the flying foe. All in vain; every +way was barred by the trunks of trees which the Turks had hewn down in +hot haste. + +"We must let them escape!" cried Veer, thrusting his sabre into its +sheath. + +"Say not so! say not so!" cried Banfi excitedly, and riding up to the +top of a hillock, he seemed to be observing something in the distance. +Suddenly he exclaimed with a joyful voice--"Look yonder. The +fire-signals have just been lit!" + +And indeed on the crests of the Gyalyui Mountains the fire-signals could +be seen flashing up one by one in a long line. + +"Those are our people!" cried Banfi, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk is +caught in the trap. Forward!" And remarshalling his squadrons, he +galloped towards the barricaded forest paths, heedless of the warnings +of the more circumspect Veer. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Ali Pasha, abandoning his tents, camels, and booty-laden +wagons to the enemy, sent Dzem Haman, the Albanian commander, on before, +to level the roads over the snowy mountains. + +As now Dzem Haman was advancing through the darkness and superintending +the labours of his Albanian pioneers, he heard voices in the steep rock +above his head, and a company of armed men suddenly emerged from the +mountain passes before his eyes. + +The troops on both sides challenged each other simultaneously. + +"Who are ye? What are you doing?" + +"We are carrying stones," answered Dzem Haman. "And you?" + +"We too are carrying stones," was the answer from above. + +"We are Dzem Haman's men, who are removing the stones from the path of +Ali Pasha--and ye, are you not Csaky's men?" + +"We are collecting stones for the head of Ali Pasha, and are Michael +Angel's people," resounded from above, and at the same time a terrible +rain of stones rolled down upon the heads of the Albanians, by way of +confirming the statement. + +"Michel Anchal is here also!" roared the terrified Albanians, falling +back aghast, and creating a panic among those behind them by declaring +that they were surrounded. + +At these tidings, the Turkish host, harassed from before and behind, +resolved itself into a disorderly mass, on which, at break of day, the +Hungarian infantry began rolling enormous masses of stone and rock. + +Ali Pasha attempted first on one side and then on another to break +through the enemy's lines, but was everywhere driven back with fearful +loss by the missiles hurled down from above. The boldest warriors, who +had fought man to man in a hundred battles, fled back pale and trembling +before the thundering masses of rock, which so completely smashed +everything that came in their way that horse and rider were +undistinguishable. + +Ali Pasha tore his beard in impotent rage on perceiving that he and all +his host were at the mercy of an army even now much weaker than his own. + +"There is neither help nor refuge, save with the Most High God!" cried +he, breaking his sword in twain in his despair; and drawing out his +pistols, he pointed them at his own heart. + +At that moment a hand snatched his weapons from him, and Ali Pasha saw +Zuelfikar before him. + +"What wouldst thou do, madman?" cried he. "Thou wouldst not have me fall +into the hands of the unbelievers?" + +"I would deliver you and your host out of their hands," said Zuelfikar. + +"By the shadow of Allah, thou dost speak brave words, and if thou +couldst but do as thou sayst, I would make thee the foremost of my +captains." + +"I desire no such honour. Promise me a thousand ducats, and send me as a +messenger to Banfi." + +"So that thou mayst betray my position to him, eh! thou cur?" + +"I've no need to do that. He can see it for himself from yon hill-top. +You are as good as dead and buried already, so that you have no choice +but to trust to me. You may hold out for a couple of days perhaps; but +then you and your bravest heroes must perish with hunger just like me. +We are all in the same evil case, there is nothing to choose between any +of us." + +"And what wouldst thou do, wretched slave?" + +"Induce Banfi to withdraw his troops from the road leading to Kalota, +and thus leave us a loophole of escape." + +"And dost thou think that possible?" + +"It may, or it may not be so. Where death is certain, a man cares not +what he risks. If I can speak to Banfi this evening, you may be able to +escape the same night. If I succeed, well. If not, we shall be no worse +off than we are now." + +"The fellow speaks boldly. Do as thou dost desire. I'll trust thee. +Allah alone reads the secrets of the heart. Go!" + +Zuelfikar laid down his arms, and went all alone down to the narrow pass +leading to Kalota. When he came to the Hungarian outposts, his eyes fell +upon rows of dead Turks who had been hung up on the trees along the +wayside. This sight did not appear to disturb the renegade in the least. +He stepped boldly among the Magyars, and as they seized him, said +quickly to them in the purest Hungarian-- + +"Bring me to Denis Banfi. I am his spy!" + +"You lie!" cried they. "Sling him up." + +"I can prove it," continued Zuelfikar, with a loud voice, and taking a +neatly-folded parchment out of his turban, he handed it to the captain. + +The letter contained these words-- + +"I, Gregory Soeter, hereby declare to all the commanders of the Hungarian +troops that Zuelfikar, the bearer of this letter, is my faithful war-spy. +Let him pass free everywhere." + +The captain gave back the letter, not without grumbling, and bade two of +his soldiers lead Zuelfikar to Banfi, but they were to cut him down at +once if the general did not acknowledge him. However, at the first +glance Banfi recognized in him Pongracz, Balassa's former servant, and +motioned to his men to leave them alone together. + +"So you have turned Turk?" said Banfi. + +"This is no time for questions, my lord. 'Tis for me to speak, and to +the point. I'll be brief, if you'll let me. Emerich Balassa expelled me +from his house when he learnt that I had helped you to abduct Azrael." + +"Good!" said Banfi, contracting his brows. "The girl has flown from me +too--whither, I know not." + +"Yes, my lord, you do; and the worst of it is, others know it also. +Close to the Gradina Dracului there is a habitation among the rocks, and +there she dwells." + +"Silence!" cried Banfi, aghast. "How know you that?" + +"Balassa has lodged a complaint with the Prince about the abduction of +the girl. The matter is not such a trifle as you imagine. Azrael is the +Sultan's daughter, who, after being betrothed to Ali Pasha, was carried +off by Corsar Beg, whom Balassa's poison alone saved from the silken +cord, while Balassa himself has become a homeless vagabond because of +her. She has been the ruin of all who ever possessed her. It is your +turn now. The Prince having promised the disgraced Ladislaus Csaky +everything he likes to ask, if only he can ferret out the girl's +hiding-place, Csaky slyly commissioned the Patrol-officer to make +inquiries among the people whether a panther had been seen anywhere in +the woods, for he well knew that it is the habit of this wild beast to +roam about in search of prey. Its track led them to the rocky retreat, +the girl has been seen, and everything discovered." + +"Devils and hell!" cried Banfi, turning pale. + +"Listen further. Csaky communicated his plan to Ali Pasha, and it was +agreed between them that while the Pasha attacked Banfi-Hunyad, Csaky +with two thousand Wallachs was to scour the mountains under the pretext +of a hunt, and storm the Devil's Garden." + +"What infernal villainy!" cried Banfi, striking his sword with his fist. + +"It is just possible, my lord, that you might still arrive in time," +added the renegade insidiously, "if you do not stay here too long." + +"We'll be off at once," cried Banfi, pale with rage. "I'll teach these +lickspittlers to invade the domains of a free nobleman at the very +moment when he himself is fighting against the enemies of his country. A +few hundred men will be sufficient to keep Ali Pasha in check from this +side. With the rest I wager I'll be able to pull Master Ladislaus Csaky +out by the ears if I catch him trespassing." + +And immediately Banfi commanded his men to set out for Marisel as +swiftly and as silently as possible, and bade the little band he left +behind him light many large fires in the wood, so as to make the enemy +believe that the whole host was bivouacking there, while he himself +hastened towards the imperilled hiding-place. To Zuelfikar he paid five +hundred gold pieces for his timely warning. + +The same night Ali Pasha fell with his whole host upon the two or three +hundred Hungarians whom Banfi had left behind him; scattered them after +a brief resistance, and hastened back to Grosswardein, swallowing as +best he could the indignity of a great defeat, for he left behind him +two thousand dead, and the whole of his baggage. + +From him too Zuelfikar received the covenanted one thousand gold pieces, +thus doing a service to the Turks and to the Hungarians at the same +time, and making both of them pay him for his pains. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE BANQUET TRIBUNAL. + + +The blast of hunting-horns resounded from the Batrina Mountains, the +hubbub of the chase came nearer and nearer; a group of well-dressed, +well-mounted gentlemen led the way, and at their head rode Count +Ladislaus Csaky. + +"After him! after him!" resounded on all sides, and the pack were +already in full cry, when the cavalcade, emerging from the thicket into +an open glade, suddenly encountered another party coming from the +opposite direction, in whose leader they all recognized Denis Banfi. +Csaky with considerable confusion called the beaters back. + +Banfi rode up to the group with an ironical smile. + +"Welcome, gentlemen, to my domains. Delighted, I'm sure, at my great +good fortune. Probably you have lost your way; but, if not, you are my +guests, and consequently doubly welcome. But, pray, why do you stare at +me so wildly? You really remind me of the Hindoo proverb, which says, He +who beats the woods for a stag, oftentimes falls in with a lion." + +"We regard your Excellency neither as a stag nor yet as a lion," +returned Csaky, blushing up to the ears in his confusion. "The fact is, +we fancied ourselves on lawful ground." + +"Of course! of course!" returned Banfi, with an offensive smile. "You +are on my property, and that is certainly lawful ground. I don't know +how to express my gratitude for such an honour. No doubt you are tired +too. I therefore invite you all to Bonczhida, just to take a little +pot-luck with me." + +"We are much obliged," returned Csaky angrily, "but we are unable just +now to accept your invitation." + +"Nay, nay; you'll not put me off. It is not my practice to let those who +have come to me as guests depart hungry and thirsty. I cannot regard +you as poachers, I suppose? And if you are not poachers, you must be +guests." + +"A third case is also possible." + +"I know of none." + +"Your Excellency shall learn from me that there is, though." + +"Quite right. But there will be time for that at table. So turn your +horses' heads towards Bonczhida, gentlemen." + +"I've already said that we can't accept your invitation." + +"What! Are you so ill acquainted with my hospitality as not to know +that, if necessary, I will carry you off by force? Ha, ha! You must take +away with you a reminiscence of Bonczhida. As you know now what my wild +animals are like, you must make the acquaintance of my domestic animals +also. In any case, I mean to take you by force." + +"A truce to jesting, Banfi. This is not the place for it." + +"Methinks 'tis you that jest. I am perfectly serious when I say that I +will take you with me even against your will." + +"We should like to see you do it." + +"Then see it you shall," and with that Banfi blew on his horn, and +instantly armed squadrons poured forth from every corner of the wood. +Count Csaky and his merry men were completely surrounded. + +"Ha! this is treachery!" cried Csaky wildly. + +"Oh dear, no! 'Tis only a little carnival jest," replied Banfi, +laughing. "This time 'tis the quarry which captures the huntsmen. +Forward, comrades! Take these gentlemen's horses by the bridles, and +follow me with them to Bonczhida. If any one stands upon ceremony, tie +his legs to the stirrups." + +"I protest against this compulsion," cried Csaky furiously. "I take you +all to witness that I enter my protest against this act of violence." + +"I for my part call every one to witness," repeated Banfi, laughing, +"that I've invited these gentlemen to a banquet in the most friendly +manner in the world." + +"I protest! 'Tis violence." + +"Nonsense! 'Tis a merry jest. 'Tis Hungarian hospitality!" + +Some of the gentlemen laughed, others swore. As however Banfi had +numbers on his side, the Csakyites sulkily and wrathfully submitted at +last to their jocose tyrant, and allowed themselves to be conducted to +Bonczhida, though Csaky stopped every one he met on the road, and took +them to witness that Banfi was doing him violence, while Banfi +laughingly endeavoured to make it plain to the good people that the +worthy gentleman was a trifle fuddled, and that they were playing a +harmless little practical joke upon him. + +"You will live to bitterly rue this!" cried Csaky, gnashing his teeth, +and half beside himself with rage. + +As they were passing through a village, one of Csaky's company, a young +nobleman, whom his friends called Szantho, broke away from the crowd and +vanished before he could be overtaken. + +"Let him go to the devil!" cried Banfi gaily. "We will manage to be +merry without him, eh! my lord Ladislaus Csaky?" + +Gradually Csaky recovered his sangfroid, and his wrath seemed to abate; +indeed, by the time they reached Bonczhida he wore a radiantly smiling +countenance, for he was well aware that it would be indecent as well as +ridiculous to pull wry faces before ladies. He therefore allowed himself +to be presented to Dames Apafi and Banfi as a chance guest picked up on +the way, without the least show of ill-humour. + +Banfi crowned his insult by assigning to Csaky the place of honour at +the head of the table, next his wife, and sitting opposite to him +treated him with the most marked attention, through which there ran, +however, a vein of the most trenchant irony. And Csaky was not even able +to resent it! What must his feelings have been! + +As the banquet was drawing to a close and the general mirth increased +proportionately, Csaky grew more and more furious. He was sitting all +the time on burning coals, and had to smile and simper as if he liked +it. At last Banfi invented a fresh torture for him, by raising his pocal +and drinking his guest's health. Csaky was obliged to clink glasses, +drain his own to the very dregs, and endure to see Banfi laughing at him +in his sleeve all the time. Every drop he drank was so much poison to +him with that mocking laugh ringing in his ears. + +And all this refined torture was so delicately veiled, that it escaped +the attention of the ladies altogether. + +Just as the mirth was most uproarious, the folding-doors suddenly flew +wide open, and, without any previous announcement, Prince Michael Apafi, +to whom the fugitive Szantho had brought the news of Csaky's capture, +entered the room. + +Both ladies, with a cry of joyful surprise, hastened towards the +unexpected guest; but the gentlemen, perceiving from the Prince's face +that a storm was brewing, suddenly became very grave. + +Banfi alone preserved his usual grand seignorial gaiety, which could +even express anger with a smiling countenance. He sprang quickly from +his seat, and hastened joyfully towards the Prince. + +"By Heaven, a lucky coincidence! Your Highness comes to us at the very +instant that we are draining our glasses in your Highness's honour. This +is what I call an unlooked-for and most timely arrival." + +Apafi received this salutation with a slight nod, and leading the ladies +back to their places, sat down himself on Banfi's chair. Several of the +guests hastened to offer Banfi their seats, but the Prince beckoned him +to approach. + +"Your Excellency will remain standing. We would submit you to a little +friendly cross-examination." + +"If we are to be the judges in this case," interrupted the learned +Master Csekalusi, taking up his glass, "allow me to inform you that the +necessary preliminaries[40] have already been observed." + + [Footnote 40: A banquet was the usual prelude to + judicial as to all other public proceedings in + Hungary.] + +"I will be the judge," said Apafi; "although I do not quite know who is +the master at Bonczhida, myself or Denis Banfi." + +"The law of the land is the master of us both, your Highness," returned +Banfi. + +"Well answered! You would remind us that an Hungarian nobleman permits +no one to sit in judgment upon him in his own house. But this affair is +after all only a little carnival jest. At least you have been pleased to +call it so, and we will follow your example." + +The most anxious suspense was legible in the faces of all present: they +did not know whether the jest would end seriously or the reverse. + +"Your Excellency," continued Apafi, "has seized our envoy, Lord +Ladislaus Csaky, and brought him to your house by force." + +"Ah!" cried Banfi, with affected astonishment, "I see it all now. Why +then did not the Count tell me at once that you had sent him to hunt in +my preserves? And besides, if your Highness had taken a fancy to some of +my game, why did you not let me know it? I would have shot more +excellent bucks for your Highness than any that my Lord Csaky could +catch." + +"This has nothing to do with bucks, my lord baron. You know very well +the ins and outs of the whole business. Don't force me to speak out +plumply before these ladies." + +At these words Lady Banfi would have risen, but the Princess prevented +her. + +"You must remain here," she whispered in her ear. + +"So far, I don't understand a single word," said Banfi, in an injured +tone. + +"No? Then we'll recall to your mind a couple of circumstances. The +peasants have caught sight of a panther in your woods." + +"It is possible," returned Banfi, laughing--for a Hungarian gentleman +may jest with his guests but never be rude to them, however much they +offend him--"it is possible that this panther is a descendant of those +which came into the land with Arpad,[41] and may therefore be called +ancestral panthers." + + [Footnote 41: Arpad, the primeval ancestor of the + Hungarian princes, who first led the Magyars into the + plains of Hungary. He died in 907. With Hungarians, to + come in with Arpad is like our coming over with the + Conqueror.] + +"It is no matter for jesting, my lord. That panther has torn a young +Wallach to pieces in the sight of several persons, wherefore I sent out +Lord Ladislaus Csaky to hunt down the beast and kill it. And Csaky had +seen the monster and was hard upon it when you met him in the forest and +stopped him." + +"Lord Ladislaus Csaky no doubt mistook his own tiger-skin for a +panther." + +"No gibes, please. The lair of the monster is discovered. Do you +understand me now?" + +"I understand your Highness. But 'twas a pity to put my lord Csaky to so +much inconvenience for such a trifle. So 'twas he then who discovered +the pleasure-house which I built over a hot spring among the rocks? +Well, I don't think even such a discovery as that will earn for him the +title of a Columbus." + +"You persist in sneering then? Will nothing make you bow your haughty +head? Suppose now I knew the secret of that mysterious cave, what +then?" + +Banfi began to change colour, and he answered in a low, husky voice, +like a man who finds it very difficult not to speak the truth. + +"'Tis a very simple matter, sir. It was I who discovered Boervolgy; but +as soon as the rumour of the hot spring spread abroad, the public tried +to take possession of it. Now, I had also discovered a rich mineral vein +beneath the Gradina Dracului, and to prevent it from being appropriated, +I had a little private pleasure-house built there among the rocks for +the exclusive use of my wife." + +By these last words Banfi wished to make the Prince understand that he +ought to spare his wife, but they produced exactly the contrary effect. + +"Oh, you vile hypocrite!" cried the Prince, starting up and striking the +table with his clenched fist. "You would use your wife as a cloak, well +knowing all the time that you keep there a Turkish girl on whose account +the Sultan is about to ravage the land with fire and sword!" + +Lady Banfi uttered a piercing shriek. Her sister whispered in her ear-- + +"Be strong! Now is the time to show what you are made of." + +Banfi furiously bit his lips, but controlled himself with a mighty +effort, and answered calmly-- + +"That is not true, sir! That I deny!" + +"What! Not true! There are people who have seen her." + +"Who?" + +"Clement, the Patrol-officer." + +"Clement the poet? Ah! We all know that lying is the masterpiece of +poets." + +"Very well, my lord baron. As you deny everything, I will try to get to +the bottom of the matter myself. I will therefore go in person to the +place in question, and if I find confirmation of that whereof you are +accused, let me tell you that a threefold punishment awaits you: first, +for the rape of the Turkish girl; next, for the violence done to a +princely messenger; and thirdly, for adultery. Each one of these deeds +is sufficient in itself to hurl you down from your presumptuous height. +My lord Csaky, lead us to this place; and you, my lord Denis Banfi, will +in the meantime remain here." + +Banfi stood there with a bloodless face, and his feet rooted to the +ground. + +Meanwhile his wife had risen from her seat, and rallying all her +strength with a supreme effort, stepped in front of the Prince and +said-- + +"Sir, pardon my husband! He knows nothing of this thing--the fault is +mine--the woman whom you seek turned to me for protection in her hour of +need--and--I concealed her in that place--without my husband's +knowledge." + +Every word she spoke seemed to cost the pale, fragile lady superhuman +exertion. Banfi turned very red and cast down his eyes before her. The +Princess looked triumphantly at her sister and pressed her hand. + +"Well done!" she whispered. "That was indeed noble and heroic!" + +Apafi saw through the magnanimous fraud; but he was determined that +Banfi should not escape him that way, so, turning wrathfully upon him, +he exclaimed-- + +"And you permit your wife to commit such indiscretions, which might so +easily ruin your family, nay, the realm itself? She must be punished for +it, and I therefore request you to reprimand her on the spot!" + +Lady Banfi, full of resignation, sank down upon her knees before her +guests, and bowed her head like a criminal awaiting punishment. + +"It is not my practice to correct my wife in public," murmured Banfi, +with an unsteady voice. + +"Then I'll do so myself," cried Apafi; and approaching the lady he +said--"You deserve, madame, to be sent to jail!" + +"That I would not allow, sir!" muttered Banfi between his teeth. + +He was now as pale as a corpse. All his blood, all his fire, seemed +concentrated in his eyes. All his muscles quivered with shame and rage. + +"Gentlemen!" interrupted a sweet, sonorous voice. How soothingly it +sounded amidst the rough contention of angry men. It was the voice of +the Princess, who stepped between the lady and her accuser. "In former +times," she cried reproachfully, "noblemen were ever wont to respect +noble ladies." + +"So you are again at hand to defend those whom I attack?" cried the +Prince petulantly. + +"I am again at hand to prevent your Highness from committing an act of +injustice. I have always the _right_ to defend my sister--but it becomes +my _duty_ to do so when she is insulted!" + +With these words the Princess embraced Margaret, who no sooner felt +herself in the embrace of a stronger than herself, than she lost all her +artificial strength, and sank senseless into her sister's arms. + +Banfi would have hastened to his wife's assistance, but Dame Apafi waved +him back. + +"Go!" cried she; "I'll take care of her!" + +"Then you mean to remain here?" said the Prince to his consort, in a +voice trembling between wrath and compassion. + +"My sister has need of me--and you, I see, can do without me." + +Apafi, ever since his wife had begun to speak, had plainly lowered his +crest, and fearing lest she might rout him altogether, he hastily +quitted the battle-field with a half triumph. He could not fail to be +very much discontented with the result of his investigation. He felt +that he had wounded Banfi in a sore place, but he also felt that the +wound was not mortal. The great nobleman had been affronted rather than +humbled. So much the worse for him! What will not bend must be broken. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE DIET OF KAROLY-FEHERVAR. + + +It is the fate of many a town, as of many a nation, to rise from the +dead. + +One people perishes there. The walls fall to pieces. The name of the +town passes into oblivion. And again there comes another people, which +builds upon the ruins, gives the place a new name; and while the old +stones, cast one upon another, seem to bewail the past, the city, +radiant with new palaces, rejoices in its youth like a flattered beauty. + +The hill on which Transylvania's only fortress stands was once covered +with massive buildings by Diurban's race. Who now remembers so much as +its name? The Roman legions subjected the nation, threw down the +shapeless walls, and instead of the altar dedicated to the Blood-God, +and stained with human sacrifices, there arose a temple of Vesta; the +wooden palace of the Dacian duke vanished, and the marble halls of the +propraetor took its place, with their Corinthian columns, their white +mosaic floor, their artistically carved divinities. The place was then +called _Colonia Apulensis_. + +Again the town grew old, fell down, and died. + +A new and mightier race came into it; the former inhabitants were buried +beneath the ruins of their palaces and temples, and instead of the +propraetor's palace, the gilded and enamelled dwelling of Duke Gyula,[42] +with its skittle-shaped roof, towered up like an enchanted castle from +the Thousand and One Nights, and on the ruins of the temple of Vesta the +pagan forefathers of the Magyars built altars under the open sky, where +they worshipped the sun, the stars, and a naked sword. Then the town was +called Gyula-Fehervar.[43] + + [Footnote 42: _Gyula_ = Julius. The heathen Prince of + Transylvania at the end of the tenth century.] + + [Footnote 43: _Gyula-Fehervar._ White Julius' town.] + +A century passed, and Stephen, saint and king, cast down the altars of +the fire-worshippers, and built a vast church on the spot where so many +false gods had been adored. The sun-worshippers disappeared, and the +Christian world called the church after the name of the Archangel +Michael. + +What sort of church was it?--Nobody can now tell! Two centuries later +the Tartars came, levelled town and church with the ground, and put the +population to the sword. On their departure they gave to the town the +scornful nickname Nigra-Julia.[44] + + [Footnote 44: _Nigra Julia._ Black Julia.] + +Our nation's greatest man, John Hunniady, rebuilt it. Traces of his huge +Gothic arches may still be found there. In the crypt, built at the same +time, all the Princes of Transylvania were buried in richly-carved +sarcophagi. Here _rested_ Hunniady himself and his headless son +Ladislaus.[45] They _rested_ here, but only for a time. Robber-hordes +came and scattered the sacred relics, and devastated the church, and the +succeeding princes who patched it up again during the Turkish dominion, +added to the Gothic groundwork the peculiarities of Arab architecture, +serpentine columns, and Moorish arabesques. + + [Footnote 45: _Ladislaus Hunniady._ The eldest son of + the great hero, treacherously beheaded in 1456.] + +And last of all came the renovations and restorations of modern +times--four-cornered towers, with little low windows and shapeless +portals. The arabesques were all white-washed, and where here and there +the mortar falls from the walls, you may catch a glimpse of the stones +with which the church was originally built, relics of every age which +has visited the place and vanished tracklessly. Here sculptured +fragments of the old Mythra cultus; there mutilated Vestals. Below, the +top of an ancient altar with the broken symbol of a sun upon it; above, +florid and fantastic arabesques. + +And again the town lost its name. + +They call it now Karoly-Fehervar.[46] + + [Footnote 46: _Karoly-Fehervar._ White Charles' town. + German: Karlsburg.] + + * * * * * + +At the time in which our story is laid, this town was the place where +the Princes of Transylvania used to be consecrated and the Diets to be +held. Where the episcopal palace now stands stood then the Prince's +residence, restored by John Sigismund,[47] with marble inlaid chambers, +and walls covered with battle-pieces in fresco. The great hall where the +Diet met was separated from the surrounding chambers by a balustrade of +tinted marble. Round about the walls hung the busts of princes and +woywodes interspersed with trophies. In front stood the throne covered +with purple, and round about it a triumphal baldachin made of banners, +shields, and morning-stars. + + [Footnote 47: John Sigismund Zapolya (1540-1571), with + whom the line of the Transylvanian princes began.] + +The rest of the town was scarcely in keeping with the pomp of the +Prince's residence, for in 1618 the Diet had been obliged to command the +inhabitants to cease dwelling in tents, and build up their ruinous +houses again. + + * * * * * + +The Estates of the Realm have already assembled. Every one is in his +place. Only the seat of the Prince is still vacant. + +There they sit in order of precedence--the Transylvanian patricians, the +heads of the Hungarian nobility, the most eminent in wit, wealth, and +valour--the Bethlens, the Csakys, the Lazars, the Kemenys, the Mikeses, +the Banfis!--those mediaeval clans whose will is the nation's, whose +deeds form its history, whose ancestors, grandfathers and fathers, have +either perished on the battle-field in defence of their princes, or on +the scaffold for defying them. And their descendants loyally follow +their examples. A new prince comes to the throne, and they take up again +the swords which have fallen from their fathers' hands--to wield it for +or against him, as Fate may decree. + +The Szekler deputies with their homely garb and sullen, dogged faces, +and the Saxon burghers with their simple, round, red countenances, and +their primeval German costume, form a striking contrast to the dashing +and resplendent Hungarian magnates. + +The mob assembled in the galleries and behind the barrier presents a +most motley picture. Many amongst it can be seen pointing out the +celebrities to their neighbours, or shaking their fists at the deputies +they dislike. + +At last a flourish of trumpets announces that the Prince has arrived. +The pages throw open the doors. The crowd shouts "Eljen!" His Highness +appears surrounded by his court. + +Denis Banfi, as Marshal of the Diet, leads the way, with the national +standard in his right hand. Beside him is Paul Beldi of Uzoni, who, as +Captain-General of the Szeklers, bears the mace. Behind them comes the +Prime Minister, Master Michael Teleki, bringing with him in a silken +case the Imperial _athname_: all three gentlemen are in gorgeous robes +of state. In the midst walks the Prince himself, in a magnificent green +velvet kaftan and an ermine embroidered hat: he holds the sceptre in his +hand. Around and behind him throng the foreign ambassadors, foremost +among whom stand the Sultan's envoy in a robe sparkling with diamonds; +Forval, the Minister of Louis XIV., a sleek, courtly man, with silken +ribbons in his dolman, gold lace on his hat, and a richly-embossed +sword-scabbard; his colleague, the Abbe Reverend, with a smiling +countenance, his lilac surplice fastened by a purple sash; and +Sobieski's minister, wearing a _bekesch_ with divided sleeves, which so +closely resembles the Magyar costume. + +All these dignitaries now take their places. The ambassadors remain +behind the Prince's throne; and while the long and tedious protocols of +the last Diet are being read, many of them engage in conversation with +the lords behind the barrier. + +Among these latter we perceive Nicholas Bethlen, the young Transylvanian +whose acquaintance we made a long time ago in Zrinyi's hunting suite. He +is now a vivacious and sensible young man, having spent his youth in +travelling through all the civilized countries of Europe, cultivating +the acquaintance of their most famous men, and even of their princes, +and appropriating the progressive ideas of the age, without losing +anything of his national peculiarities. The French themselves tell us +that it was he who first acquainted them with the hussar's uniform, and +that the dolman he wore at Versailles served Louis XIV. as a pattern for +equipping his first Hussar regiments. + +When Bethlen caught sight of Forval, whom he had learnt to know in +Paris, he hastened to his side and greeted him heartily. + +"You'll lose the thread of the discussion," said Forval, hearing that +something was being read, but not knowing what. + +"So far, they can get on without me. The bills now before the house +merely regulate how many dishes should be set before servants; or +discuss the best method of compelling poor people to grow rich enough to +pay more taxes. When the real business of the day begins you will find +me also in my place." + +"Then tell me in the meantime who are the capable men here, and who are +not. You know everything about Transylvania." Forval had only just +arrived there. + +"Such a classification is by no means an easy one," returned Bethlen. +"Formerly, when I was a party man myself, and had seen no country but my +own, I was quite convinced that all the members of my own party were +honest men, and all its opponents scoundrels without exception; but now +that I have severed party ties, and seen a little of the world, I begin +to perceive that a man may be a good patriot, an honest man, a valiant +warrior, or the reverse, whether he belongs to the Right or the Left. +Everything depends on the point of view you take. However, as you desire +it, I will give you my own views of the state of parties, you can then +draw your own conclusions. That proud man on the right of the Prince is +Denis Banfi; the one on the left is Paul Beldi. They are the two most +eminent men in the land, and both are determined opponents of the war it +is proposed to commence; in all else they are adversaries, but on this +one point they are inseparable. Banfi seems to be in league with the +Emperor, Beldi with the Turk. In their opinion Transylvania is strong +enough to drive back every invader of her territories, but not strong +enough to play the invader herself. Now cast a glance at that baldish +man on the left of the Prince. That is Michael Teleki. 'Tis the genius +of that man which alone keeps the other two in check. He is a near +relative of the Princess, and would renew here the war which has been +the ruin of the national party in Hungary. The trial of strength between +those three men will be an interesting spectacle." + +"And if the peace party should prevail?" + +"Then the nation will have declared for peace." + +"And the Prince cannot go against it?" + +"Here, my friend, we are not at the Court of Versailles, where a Prince +may venture to say, '_L'etat--c'est moi!_' Each of those three men has +as much authority here as the Prince, and their authority is one with +his. But let him only try to act against the will of the nation, and he +will soon become aware that he stands alone. So, again, those great +nobles would remain isolated if they undertook anything in opposition to +the Diet." + +"Be candid now. Do you think the war party will prevail?" + +"Scarcely this time. I do not yet see the man who can bring a war about. +Amongst the whole Hungarian party there is no one fit to become the +ideal of a martial nation. Zrinyi has perished. Rakoczi has deserted it. +Teleki knows how to overthrow but not how to create parties. Besides, he +is no warrior, and it is a warrior that they want. He represents cold +reason, and here there is need of a soul of fire. He has no _mission_ to +fight for Hungary, but only a political interest. One of the Hungarian +magnates, that moustacheless youth yonder, Emerich Toekoeli, has lately +sued for his daughter's hand in order to engage the father in his +interests. Mark my words. That young man has a career before him. His +one idea is power--and Fortune is fickle, and her instruments are many." + +This cold consultation was somewhat distasteful to Forval. Meanwhile the +tiresome recitation of the protocols had come to an end, and Bethlen +took his seat. + +The Prince very sulkily informed the Estates that the reason he had +summoned them would now be explained to them by Master Michael Teleki; +then, wrapping himself in his kaftan, he leaned negligently back in the +depths of his huge arm-chair. + +Teleki stood up, waited until the applause of the crowd had subsided, +then, casting a calm look upon Banfi, thus began-- + +"Worshipful and valiant Orders and Estates! The recent events in Hungary +are well known to you all, and if you did not know them, you need only +cast a glance around you, and the sad, despairing faces with which your +assembly has been augmented would tell their own tale. These are our +unfortunate Hungarian brethren, once the flower of the nation, now its +withered leaves, which the storm has scattered far and wide. You have +not denied your kinsmen in their adversity; you have shared hearth and +home with them; you have mingled your tears with theirs. But oh! they +have not turned to us for the bread of charity, or for womanly +lamentations. Thou, Bocskai,[48] thou, Bethlen,[49] whose images now +look down upon us from these walls with dumb reproaches; whose +victorious, dust-stained banners wave around the throne, why can you not +rise up again in our midst to seize those banners, and thunder in the +ears of an irresolute generation--The banished beg of you a country, the +houseless a home?" + + [Footnote 48: Stephan Bocskai, Prince of Transylvania, + 1605-1606. A great statesman and warrior.] + + [Footnote 49: Gabriel Bethlen, the wisest of all the + Transylvanian princes. He reigned 1601-1629.] + +Here Teleki paused as if awaiting applause, but every one remained +perfectly silent; mere rhetoric did not affect that Assembly in the +least. Teleki saw his mistake, and instantly changed his tactics. + +"You reply to my words by silence. Am I to take it that _qui tacet, +negat_? I'll never believe that your hearts are too cold to be fired. +You only hesitate because you would count up your forces. But let me +tell you that we shall not take the field alone. The sight of our +despoiled churches and our enslaved clergy has called all the Protestant +princes of Europe to arms. Even the Belgian King, whom our fate concerns +least of all, has rescued our brethren in the faith from the Neapolitan +galleys; nor has the sword of Gustavus Adolphus grown rusty in its +sheath. Nay, more, even the most Catholic of princes, even the followers +of Mahommed, are ready to assist our cause. Behold the King of France, +at this moment the mightiest ruler in Europe, raising troops for us, not +only in his own land, but in Poland also; and, if necessary, the Sultan +certainly will not scruple to break a peace that was forced upon him; or +he will, at the very least, place his frontier troops at our disposal. +And when all around us we hear the din of battle, when every one grasps +the sword, shall we alone leave ours in its scabbard, we who owe so much +to our brethren and to ourselves? What happened to them yesterday may +happen to us to-morrow, and what country will then offer us a refuge? +Therefore, my fellow-patriots, hearken to the prayers of the banished as +if you stood in their places; for I tell you, that a time may come when +you will be as they are now; and as you treat them now, so will Destiny +treat you then!" + +Teleki had done. He fixed his eyes on Denis Banfi as if he knew +beforehand that he would be the first to reply to him. + +Banfi arose. It was plain that he was making a great effort to keep +within bounds and speak dispassionately. + +"My noble colleagues!" he began, in an unusually calm voice. "Compassion +towards unfortunate kinsmen and hatred of ancient foes are sentiments +which become a man; but in politics there is no room for sentiment. In +this place we are neither kinsmen, nor friends, nor yet foes; we are +simply and solely patriots, whose first duty it is to coolly calculate, +for, to say nothing of the joy or grief resulting from it, the fate of a +whole land depends upon the issue of our deliberations. Now the question +before us is really this: Are we to stake the existence of Transylvania +for the sake of Hungary? Are we to shed our blood for the sake of +raising her from the dead? Listen not to your hearts, they can only +feel--'tis the head that thinks. Just now there is peace in +Transylvania. The people are beginning to be happy; the towns are rising +from their ashes; the mourning weeds are gradually being laid aside, and +ears of corn are ripening on fields of blood. At present the Magyar is +his own master in Transylvania. No stranger, no adversary, no protector +exacts tribute from him. None may interfere in our deliberations. The +neighbouring powers are obliged to protect us, and we are not obliged to +do them homage for it. Reflect well upon all this ere you stake +everything on one cast of the die! Would you again see all Transylvania +turned into a huge battle-field, and your vassals transformed into an +army, perhaps not even a victorious army? And even if our hosts were +sufficient, who is there to lead them? None of us has inherited the +genius of a Bethlen or of a Bocskai; neither I, nor Master Teleki. And +then again, whom can we trust besides ourselves? The capricious Louis +XIV. perhaps? His policy can be changed every moment by a pair of bright +eyes. If we depended only on him, a petty Versailles intrigue might +leave us in the lurch when we most required assistance." + +Here Forval coughed to conceal his annoyance. + +"As for Sobieski," continued Banfi, "depend upon it he will not attack +his present ally the Emperor for our sweet sakes; nor will the Sultan +break his oath as lightly as Master Michael Teleki seems to imagine. +What then remains for us to do? Call the nomadic Tartars into Hungary, I +suppose! The poor Hungarian population would certainly express their +gratitude for such assistance as that! Your ideal Hungarian, Nicolas +Zrinyi, used to tell a tale which deserves to be handed down to our +latest posterity. The devil was carrying a Szekler away on his back. The +Szekler's neighbour met and thus accosted him: 'Whither away, gossip?' +'I am being carried to hell,' said he. 'Eh! but that is a very bad job,' +returned the other. 'Yes, but it might be much worse,' replied the +rogue. 'Just fancy if he were to sit on my back, dig his spurs into me, +and compel me to carry him instead!'--Let every one apply this fable as +he thinks best. For my part, I cannot quite decide which I fear the +most, the enmity of the Emperor or the amity of the Sultan. For, tell +me, what will be the end of this war? If we conquer with the aid of the +Sultan, Transylvania will become a Turkish Pachalic; if we are +conquered, we shall sink into an Austrian province, while now we are a +free and independent State by the grace of God! In any case Hungary's +fate is bound to improve, and that fate touches my heart quite as much +as theirs who fancy they can heal the sick man with the sword. But +nothing is to be won in that way. How much blood has not already been +shed without the slightest result? Let us try some other way. Surely the +Magyar has sense enough to subdue by his intellectual superiority those +whom he cannot overcome by force of arms? Subdue your conquerors, I say. +You who are second to none in sense, energy, wealth, and the beauty of +manliness, why do you not take the highest posts which belong to you of +right? If you were to sit where the Pazmans[50] and the Esterhazys[51] +have sat, there would be no room left for a Lobkovich.[52] If instead of +fighting petty, fruitless battles now and then, you were to use your +intellects and your influence, you might make your land happy without +costing her a drop of blood. It rests with you to restore once more the +age of Louis the Great,[53] that foreign prince who became enamoured of +his adopted people, turned Magyar, and made the nation as great and as +powerful as the nation made him. The Estates of Transylvania will +undertake to mediate between Hungary and the Emperor, and so get you +back your privileges and your possessions. I will be the first to +stretch out a helping hand, and assuredly Master Michael Teleki will be +the second. If, however, you do not accept this offer, then, I say, +beware of what you do. As to the prophecy--Our turn to-day, yours +to-morrow! I'll only say, Fear nothing for Transylvania. I'll be bold to +say, that whoever invades her by force of arms, will always find a host +of equal strength ready to meet him; but let me tell you, that that same +host will never be so foolhardy as to invade a foreign land." + + [Footnote 50: Cardinal Peter Pazman (1570-1637), a + famous Hungarian patriot and statesman.] + + [Footnote 51: The celebrated Nicholas Esterhazy of + Galanta, Palatine of Hungary.] + + [Footnote 52: Lobkovich (Eusebius Vincent), Leopold + I.'s prime minister (1670-73), who attempted to make + the Emperor absolute in Hungary.] + + [Footnote 53: Louis the Great, King of Hungary, + 1342-1381.] + +"Then Hungary is to you a foreign land?" cried a mocking voice from the +crowd. + +This interruption was too much for Banfi's composure. He turned +furiously towards the quarter whence the question came, and meeting the +cold, contemptuous looks of the Hungarians assembled there, he quite +forgot himself; everything around him seemed to be in a whirl, and +dashing his kalpag to the ground, he cried-- + +"Right, right--indeed! A foreign land--nay more, a stepmother you have +always been to us. We have always had to suffer for your sins. We have +won victories, and you have frittered away the fruits of our victories. +Your discords have thrice brought Hungary low, and thrice have we raised +her from the dust. We have given you heroes; you have given us +traitors!" + +These last words Banfi was obliged to roar out at the top of his voice +to make himself heard above the ever-increasing din. The uproar was +general. Every one tried to shout down his neighbour. The Hungarian +gentlemen sprang from their seats and reviled Banfi. The graver members +of the peace party shook their heads when they saw how Banfi's +indiscretion had let loose the passions of the Assembly. + +Beldi now arose. All lovers of order cried at once--"Let us hear Beldi!" + +Then a young man suddenly leaped over the barrier, and placing his hand +on Teleki's arm-chair, planted himself in front of Banfi with a flushed +and defiant face. It was Emerich Toekoeli. + +"I too have got a word to say," cried he, in a voice audible above the +tumult. "I also have the right to say a word or two within this barrier. +If you will deny your mother, Hungary, and draw boundaries between her +and you, it is time for me to speak. I am just as good a territorial +noble here in Transylvania as that proud and petty demigod, whose father +before him was just such another reviler of his mother country!" + +Beldi was making his way towards Toekoeli to stop him from speaking, when +some one from behind seized his hand, and turning round, he was +astonished to see his own son-in-law, Paul Wesselenyi, who begged him to +step outside for a moment. + +Beldi retired into the lobby, while Toekoeli's voice thundered through the +hall above the never-ending din. + +A veiled lady awaited Beldi in the lobby, whom, when she had unveiled +her face, he had some difficulty in recognizing as his daughter Sophia, +so much had grief and care changed and broken her. Her beautiful eyes +were red with weeping. + +"We are homeless fugitives," sobbed Sophia, sinking on her father's +breast. "They have taken from us our Hungarian possessions; my husband +has been driven from his castle, and a price set on his head." + +Beldi became very serious. This unexpected ill-tidings pricked him to +the heart. Within, Toekoeli's thundering voice was raising a perfect +tempest of indignation, but Beldi no longer made haste back to quell it. + +"Remain with me," said he, with a troubled countenance; "here you can +dwell in peace till things improve." + +"Too late!" said Wesselenyi. "I have already enlisted under the flag of +the French General, Count Boham, as a common soldier." + +"You a common soldier! You, the descendant of the Palatine Wesselenyi! +And what in the meantime is to become of my daughter?" + +"She will remain behind with you--till Hungary has been won back again!" +and with these words he placed his wife in Beldi's arms, kissed her on +the forehead, and departed with dry eyes. + +Within raged the tumult. Beldi heard his daughter sobbing, and a bitter +feeling began to fill his breast, a feeling not unlike a nascent desire +of vengeance. He felt almost pleased that war was being demanded within +there; and he, the leader of the peace party, was also just about to +draw his sword, rush into the Diet, and exclaim--"War! war! and +retribution!" when the pages led into the lobby an old man as pale as +death, who, recognizing Beldi, staggered up to him and addressed him in +a trembling voice-- + +"My lord, are you not the Captain-General of the Szeklers, Paul Beldi of +Uzoni?" + +"Yes. What do you want with me?" + +"I am the last inhabitant of Benfalva!" stammered the dying man. "War, +famine, and pestilence have carried off all the others. I alone remain, +and feeling that I too am on the point of death, I have brought you the +official seal of the place and the church bell. Give them to the Diet. +Preserve them in the archives, and write over them--'These are the bell +and the seal of what was once Benfalva, the inhabitants of which utterly +perished.'" + +Beldi's nerveless arm dropped the hilt of his sword, and he tore himself +from his daughter's embrace. + +"Go to your mother at Bodola, and learn to bear your fate with a stout +heart!" + +Then he took the seal and the bell from the dying man, and hastened back +to the hall of the Diet, where Toekoeli had just finished his speech, +which had produced a terrible effect on the Assembly. The French +ministers were shaking hands with him. + +Beldi stepped up to the president's table, and placed upon it the seal +which had just been handed to him. + +Every one looked at him, and seeing that he was about to speak, became +silent. + +"Look!" cried he, with a voice broken by emotion. "A desolated town +sends its official seal to the Diet by its last inhabitant. There are +already enough of such towns in Transylvania, and in time there may be +more. War and famine have wasted the fairest portions of our land. You +should not forget, gentlemen, to place this seal among your +other--trophies!" + +At these last words Beldi's voice sank almost to a whisper, yet so deep +was the silence, that he was heard distinctly in every part of the hall. +A thrill of horror passed through every one present. + +"Outside that door I hear some one weeping," continued Beldi, with +quivering lips. "It is my own dear daughter, the wife of Paul +Wesselenyi, who, driven from her fatherland, on her knees implored me, +as I loved her, to let the _lex talionis_ assert its rights. But I say, +let my child weep, let her perish, may I also perish with my whole +family if need be, but let not the curse of war fall on Transylvania! +May no one in Transylvania have cause to weep because I suffer. No! I +would declare against war though every one here present were for it.... +Gentlemen!... this seal ... and the other relic too ... forget not to +preserve them among your trophies!" + +Beldi sat down. Long after his words had ceased to sound, a death-like +silence continued to prevail. + +Teleki, ascribing this silence to indignation against Beldi, very +confidently arose, and bade the Estates give their votes. But for once +he had wrongly felt the pulse of public opinion, for the majority of +the Diet, deeply touched by the foregoing scene, voted for peace. So +great was still the influence of Banfi and Beldi in the land. + +Teleki looked with some confusion at his future son-in-law, who clenched +his fists, and murmured bitterly with tears in his eyes-- + +"Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo!" + + * * * * * + +As the Assembly broke up, Forval and Nicholas Bethlen again met +together. + +"So our hope that Transylvania will take up arms has been dashed," +observed the crestfallen Frenchman. + +"On the contrary, our hope only now begins," returned Bethlen, tapping +his friend on the shoulder. "Did you hear that young man Toekoeli speak?" + +"Yes; he spoke very prettily." + +"Prettily or not, it strikes me that he is just the man you seek." + +"A King of Hungary, eh?"[54] + + [Footnote 54: Toekoeli (Emerich), the most extraordinary + Hungarian of his day, famous for his marvellous courage + and beauty, his adventures and vicissitudes. In 1682 + the Turks proclaimed him Prince of Hungary, and for the + next five years he disputed possession of that country + with the Emperor. After being twice thrown in prison by + the Sultan, he was released and proclaimed Prince of + Transylvania, but, after many successes, was finally + obliged to fly to Turkey. He was excluded by name from + the general amnesty at the Peace of Lovicz, 1697, + between the Turks and the Emperor; but the Sultan made + him Count of Widdin and one of his chief counsellors. + He died in 1705 at Nicomedia in Bithynia. He married + Helen Zrinyi, who accompanied him everywhere with + heroic fidelity.] + +"Either that or an outlaw. Fate will decide." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE JUS LIGATUM.[55] + + + [Footnote 55: _Jus ligatum._ The right of conspiring + secretly against an offender unreachable by the + ordinary law.] + +'Tis a good old custom which requires that every ceremony should end +with a feast, and so the boisterous Diet was succeeded by a still more +boisterous banquet, whereat Michael Apafi also presided; and here he was +in his proper place, for the chronicles tell us that a skin of wine at a +sitting was a mere nothing to his Highness. + +Wine inflames hate as well as love. When ladies are at table, we must +look to our hearts; but when only men sit down together, our heads are +often in danger. + +After dinner, according to Transylvanian custom, the guests stood up to +drink. Conversation flows more easily thus, and the Prince, going the +round of his guests, presented to them an overflowing beaker with his +own hand, challenging them one by one to drain it--"Come, a toast--my +health, the welfare of the realm, and whatever else you like!" + +The gentlemen were in high good-humour, and kept falling out with each +other and making it up again from sheer lightness of heart. Only one man +was quite sober--Michael Teleki, who never drank at all. + +Beware of the man who keeps sober while every one else is in his cups. + +Teleki went about among the wrangling roysterers, and lingered for a +long time round Banfi's chair. When the magnate caught sight of him, +creeping about like a cat, he turned sharply round upon him. + +"Why, how sad you look!" he cried, with a mocking laugh; "just like a +man whose coveted palatinate falls into the dust before his eyes." + +That was all Teleki wanted. + +With a smile, beneath which there lurked a deadly sting, he replied-- + +"That is no merit of yours. If Paul Beldi had not been present, you +would have been left all alone with your vote. But I must confess that +we all bow before such a distinguished man as Paul Beldi. The whole +nation cries Amen! to whatever he says." + +Teleki then bowed low, with a semblance of deep respect, well aware that +he had sent a venomous shaft into the proud magnate's heart, for nothing +wounded Banfi so much as to see some one honoured above himself, +especially some one who really deserved it. + +Teleki next turned to Beldi, drew him into a window-niche, and thus +began in his suavest manner-- + +"I had always held your Excellency for a very magnanimous man, but +to-day I learnt to recognize you as doubly such, though it was to my own +detriment. The Diet only knows that in voting for peace you sacrificed +your fatherly affection; but _I_ know that at the same time you +sacrificed your hatred of Banfi." + +"I?--I have never hated Banfi." + +"I know why you conceal your hatred. You fancy that no one knows your +secret reasons for it. My friend, we men know well that a sword-thrust +may be forgiven, but a _kiss_ never." + +Beldi started. He knew not what reply to make to this man, who, after +planting the sting of jealousy in his heart, quitted him with a smiling +countenance, leaving the wound to rankle. + +At that moment Banfi appeared behind Beldi's back with his haughtiest +air. He was burning to make Beldi feel his haughtiness, and was thinking +how he could best pick a quarrel with him. + +Beldi at first did not perceive him, and when the Prince, chancing to +stray into that part of the room, holding a costly pocal set with +turquoises, which he affably extended, saying familiarly--"Drink, my +cousin!" Beldi, fancying that the invitation was meant for him, and +never suspecting that any one was behind him, took the cup out of the +Prince's hand, and drained it to his Highness's health, at the very +moment when Banfi also held out his hand towards it. + +Banfi, purple with rage, turned furiously upon Beldi, and said in his +most insulting tone-- + +"Not so fast, Szekler. You might, I think, have a little more respect +for the Marshal of the Diet, and not snatch away the cup from beneath my +very nose. Let me tell you, sir, that if you persist in such courses, +you and I shall fall out!" + +Beldi was anything but a quarrelsome man. Had he been in another frame +of mind, he would simply have apologized for his mistake. But now he too +was in a pugnacious mood, so, calmly measuring Banfi from head to foot, +he replied with suppressed rage-- + +"Yes, Denis, I am a Szekler, as you say, and a tough one too; and if it +came to a bout between us, and I fell uppermost, I'd give you such a +squeeze that you'd never raise your head again in this world." + +"Come, come! What's all this nonsense about?" cried the Prince, +intervening. "I'm surprised at you, gentlemen! _Inter pocula non sunt +seria tractanda._" And, with that, Apafi compelled the two magnates to +shake hands with each other, and then passed on, thinking that the whole +affair was a mere drunken brawl, and that he had put it right. + +But it did not escape Teleki that, immediately after this scene, both +the magnates quitted the room, and he learnt soon afterwards that they +had suddenly left Fehervar, thus leaving the field clear for him. + +Teleki and his satellites remained alone with the half-besotted Prince. + +"Drink, gentlemen! drink! be merry!" cried Apafi. "Don't drop off one by +one! Who last went out there?" + +"Beldi!" cried several voices. + +"Ah, I understand! The poor fellow has not seen his wife for a long +time. Let him go. And who else has gone?" + +"Banfi!" + +"What? Banfi too? What's the meaning of that?" + +"He has gone to lord it at home?" sneered Szekely, one of Teleki's +creatures. + +"He can't endure to be anywhere where there is a greater than he," put +in Nalaczi. + +"I certainly shall not resign the princely diadem to please his +Excellency!" cried Apafi. + +"That is not necessary!" insinuated Teleki. "He knows how to rule in +Transylvania without an _athname_. When he commands the country must +obey, and what the country commands he contemptuously rejects." + +"I should like to see him do it!" murmured Apafi angrily. + +"But is it not so? We want war, he doesn't, and we must give way. We +want peace, and he is immediately up and waging war against our allies +on his own account. The throne is ours, the realm is his!" + +"Don't say that, Master Michael Teleki!" + +"I appeal to you, Nalaczi! What answer did he give in the Zolyomi +affair?" + +"He said that if the country wished him to surrender the Gyulai property +to Zolyomi, it must give him in exchange the domain of Szamos-Ujvar." + +"What!" cried the Prince, "the property which the Estates gave to me for +my maintenance! My princely domains! The man must be mad!" + +"So he said, adding that he would not surrender the property even if +Zolyomi saddled us with the Turks in consequence." + +"Well, now we've had enough of him. Not a word more about it, +gentlemen." + +"The insult to the Turks your Highness might overlook," persisted +Teleki, "but we really cannot look through our fingers any longer at the +way in which he treats the gentry. The latest victim of his tyranny is +Lady Saint Pauli. The poor widow's ancestral dwelling was an eyesore to +the great lord, because it spoiled the prospect from his palace windows; +so he had the house appraised at his own valuation, and turned the poor +lady out of doors. The magistrate gave her a letter of indemnity, but my +Lord-Marshal tore the letter to pieces, and pulled down the poor widow's +sole possession, her ancestral dwelling-place. The Diet, he said, might +build it up again if it felt so disposed. Such an act, sir, in ordinary +times has been known to cost the doer thereof his head!" + +Apafi was silent, but his bloodshot eyes began to glow savagely. + +"But that is not all," continued Teleki; "outrages on individuals are of +small account when the security of the whole realm is at stake. This +great lord can speak very prettily about the blessings of peace, let us +see now how he labours to uphold it. He takes the sword out of our hands +and closes our mouths, while he himself collects an army and goads the +Turk against us, well knowing that we have no money wherewith to buy the +gifts necessary to counteract his vagaries. Now, three letters have +reached us simultaneously--one from the Pasha of Grosswardein, another +from the Pasha of Buda, and a third from the Sultan himself--demanding +instant satisfaction, or an indemnity of three hundred purses of gold, +for the defeat which the Pasha of Grosswardein has suffered at Banfi's +hands. As, however, we cannot expect Banfi to pay the indemnity, will it +please your Highness to consider from whence such a large sum of money +is to be procured?" + +"From nowhither!" cried Apafi furiously, smashing his glass to pieces on +the table. "I'll show the world that I'm able to exact satisfaction from +whomsoever I will, let him be even as mighty again as Denis Banfi." + +"Then I wish your Highness would tell us how, for we know that Banfi +will not appear to our summons, and we cannot compel him, for he has +shown himself stronger than the whole realm. If we attempted to use +force he would call out the banderia and the garrison troops, and then +it might fare with us as it fared with Ladislaus Csaky--he would arrest +the officers sent to arrest him, and expose us to universal derision." + +"As our first counsellor, it is your province to give us good counsel in +such cases," cried Apafi wrathfully. + +"I only know of one remedy capable of curing the realm thoroughly of +this disease." + +"Then prescribe it. In what does your remedy consist?" + +"In the _jus ligatum_." + +Apafi, despite his semi-besotted state, instinctively shrunk back from +such an expedient, and throwing himself into his arm-chair, looked +blankly at Teleki. + +"Are you not ashamed of yourself," he murmured in broken sentences, as +tipsy people usually do, "to propose a secret conspiracy against a free +nobleman? To privily conspire against him is contrary to the law of the +land." + +"It is not my fault if the expedient is shameful," returned Teleki +calmly and steadfastly; "but it is shameful that the law should not +possess sufficient power to bring a rebel to book, and that one of our +own subjects should be able to openly defy justice and laugh at the +decrees of the Prince. If in such a state of things the _jus ligatum_ is +our only means of defence, the shame falls not upon me but upon the +Prince." + +Apafi rose angrily from his seat and paced to and fro. The lords +remained perfectly silent. + +At last the Prince stopped short in front of Teleki, and, leaning on the +back of his arm-chair, asked him-- + +"And how then do you propose to bring about this league?" + +Nalaczi and Szekely exchanged a smile. It was plain that the idea had +caught the Prince's fancy. Teleki beckoned to Szekely to fetch him +writing materials and a strip of parchment. + +"We will quickly draw up the necessary articles of impeachment; your +Highness will subscribe them, and we'll secretly persuade the great men +of the land to consent to Banfi's arrest and join the league before any +legal steps have been taken." + +At these words many of the gentlemen present began to bite their +moustaches and move uneasily in their chairs. + +Teleki observed the movement, and added emphatically-- + +"I perceive that no one here has the courage to put down his name first +on the list. Nevertheless I have already found a man, who in dignity and +power is every whit Banfi's equal, and when once he has subscribed the +list, the other signatures will follow as a matter of course." + +"And who may that be?" asked Apafi. + +"Paul Beldi!" + +The Prince shook his head. + +"He won't do it. He is much too honourable a man for that." + +Wine-inspired as this sentence was, it completely ruffled Teleki's +equanimity. Turning vehemently upon the Prince he cried-- + +"Then you mean to imply that _we_ are acting dishonourably?" + +"I meant to say that Beldi is never very willing to pick a quarrel with +anybody. He is a peace-abiding man." + +"But I know his sore point, and if you but touch it with the tip of your +finger, he'll answer with his clenched fist, and the lamb will become a +lion. I'll get him to----" + +At that moment the door opened, and, to every one's astonishment, the +Princess entered the room. + +Nevertheless, her appearance at this time was no freak of chance. You +could see by her agitation that she was well aware of what was going on. +The lords were confused, and Apafi, despite his tipsy wrath, became so +frightened when he beheld the pale face of his consort that he whispered +to Teleki-- + +"For heaven's sake put that document out of sight." + +Only Teleki kept his countenance, and instead of hiding the parchment, +ostentatiously spread it out before him. + +"What are you doing?" asked the Princess. She was very pale, and her +bosom heaved tempestuously. + +"We are holding a council," replied Teleki grimly. + +"A council?" repeated Anna, approaching nearer and nearer to the table. + +"Yes; and we venture to ask your Highness by what right you intrude +here, while we are deliberating over the most momentous affairs of +state?" continued Teleki in a hard, dry tone. + +"Deliberating over the most momentous affairs of state, eh?" repeated +the lady, measuring Teleki with a searching look. Then with a loud, +vibrating voice she exclaimed--"What mean these wine-cups then? You are +holding a council of state when the head of the state is drunk, that you +may sow discord and confusion." + +Teleki sprang from his seat and turned towards the Prince-- + +"May it please your Highness to dismiss us. We perceive that a domestic +scene is about to begin." + +"Anna!" cried Apafi, scarlet with shame and wine, "leave the room this +instant. We command it--and for a week to come do not presume to appear +in our presence." + +"Be it so, Apafi. I have nothing more to say to you, for you are not +yourself; but to you, Mr. Chief-Counsellor, to you who are always sober, +I have a word to say. I raised you from the dust; I helped you into the +place where now you stand; you requite me by thrusting yourself between +me and the Prince's heart, for I find you in my way every time I +approach my husband. You have taken the sceptre out of the Prince's +hand, and have substituted for it the headsman's sword; but let me tell +you that if I cannot reach the Prince's heart, I can, at least, step in +the way of the sword, and as often as it descends, you will find me +between the stroke and the victim!--And ye! Nalaczi and Szekely, +ennobled lackeys as you are, who cannot explain to yourselves how you +became great lords, reflect that the wheel of Fortune debases as often +as it exalts, and that as you treat others to-day so may others treat +you to-morrow. And I say to you all, ye noble cavaliers, who seek your +courage in your cups, bethink you and tremble at the thought, that not +wine but innocent blood is foaming in the beakers that you hold in your +hands! Shame, shame upon you all! who give wine to the Prince in order +to ask blood of him. And now your Highness may add a couple of weeks to +my term of banishment." + +With these words, the Princess rapidly left the room. The lords were +dumb, and dared not look at each other. But Teleki got up, closed the +door, dipped his pen in the inkhorn, and said-- + +"And now we will go on where we left off." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +DEATH FOR A KISS. + + +Paul Beldi went straight from Fehervar to Bodola: all the way he was +tortured by the thought which Teleki's words had revived. + +In itself, a kiss is a very harmless thing. But what if another knows of +it or has perceived it? Then indeed it becomes the pole of our +suspicion, round which the mind weaves a whole pandemonium of doubts and +guesses. We begin to think what might have led up to it, and what it may +lead to. And in this case another did know of it. The husband had +reasoned with himself: a kiss of which nobody knows anything makes no +rent in a wife's virtue--and behold! it is in every one's mouth already. +And perhaps they don't stop there. Perhaps while he, fond fool! imagined +his honour in safe keeping, the world with a loud Ha, ha! has long been +dragging it through the mire, and his ear is the very last to catch the +insulting laugh. And that his mortal foe, too, should be at the bottom +of it! + +Night had fallen. The horses were tired out. Beldi had nowhere given +them rest, nowhere changed them for fresh ones. He wanted to get home as +quickly as possible. He wanted to meet face to face the woman who had so +disgraced him, heaven only knew how much! But why be content to see a +woman weep or die, when there was a man on whom vengeance could be +taken? A man who had ever been his foe, from the time when they had been +pages together at Prince Gabriel Bethlen's court, and had now fastened +on the most sensitive spot in his heart and ruthlessly torn it. + +"Turn back," he cried to the coachman, "and go in the direction of +Klausenburg." + +The old servant shook his head; turned into a side-path, and so +completely lost himself in the darkness of the night, that he was forced +to confess to his master that he really did not know where he was. + +Beldi's rage and impatience knew no bounds. Looking about him, he +perceived a small light burning at no great distance, and sulkily bade +his coachman drive in that direction. + +It was into the courtyard of a lonely country-house that they rolled at +last, and Beldi recognized in the master of the house, who appeared at +the barking of the large watch-dogs, old Adam Gyergyai, one of his +dearest friends, who, when he saw Beldi, rushed into his arms, and was +beside himself with joy. + +"God be with you!" said the good old man, covering his guest with +kisses. "I will not ask what piece of good fortune has brought you to +me." + +"To tell the truth, I've lost my way. I was on the road to Klausenburg. +I must get there to-night; but I'll rest my horses here for an hour or +two if you'll let me." + +"What pressing business is this you have on hand?" + +"I must deliver a message," replied Beldi evasively. + +"If that be all, why so much hurry? Write it down, and one of my mounted +servants shall immediately take it to its destination while you remain +here." + +"You are right," said Beldi, after some reflection; "it will be better +to send a letter," and with that he asked for writing materials, sat +down, and wrote to Banfi. + +The mere act of writing generally clears and calms the mind, so that it +was in a fairly moderate tone that Beldi challenged Banfi to meet him at +Szamos-Ujvar on an affair of honour. Beldi then sealed the letter and +gave it to Gyergyai, requesting him to forward it at once. + +"So you are writing to Banfi, my brother?" said the old man, looking at +the address of the letter. "Why, you only parted from him a little time +ago! What is all this between you?" + +"Do you recollect the time, my father," said Beldi, "when you saw Banfi +and me fight together in the lists at the tournament held by Prince +George Rakoczy?" + +"Quite well! On that occasion you had both vanquished every other +competitor, but could do nothing against each other." + +"You then said that you would very much like to see which of the two +would beat the other if we set to it in earnest." + +"Yes; I well remember it." + +"Well, now you _shall_ see!" + +Gyergyai looked Beldi in the face. + +"My brother, I know not what this letter contains, but I can guess your +thoughts from your face. My father used to say that a letter written in +wrath should never be sent off the same day, but should be put under +one's pillow and slept upon. The advice is not bad; follow it, and send +off the letter to-morrow morning, for, to be candid with you, I won't +send it to-night." + +Beldi followed the old man's advice. He put the letter under his pillow, +lay down, went to sleep, and dreamt that he was in the bosom of his +family, saw his wife and children, and was very happy. It was only the +rolling of his carriage into the courtyard next morning which woke him +out of his slumbers. The first thing that occurred to him was his letter +to Banfi. He broke the seal, read the letter through again, and was much +ashamed that he had ever written such a letter. + +"Where was your common-sense, Beldi?" he asked himself, tore the letter +to pieces, and threw it into the fire. "How the world would have laughed +at me!" thought he. "An old fool, to take it into his head all at once +to be jealous of the mother of his children!--and for the sake of a kiss +too given in drunkenness and rejected with indignation. What a weapon I +should have put into Banfi's hands, had I led him to suppose that I was +jealous of my wife on his account." + +"Let us go to Bodola," said he very gently to his coachman, and with +that he took leave of his host. + +"But how about that pressing letter of yours?" asked Gyergyai anxiously. + +"I have already sent it--up the chimney," replied Beldi, smiling, and +set out on his journey with feelings very different from those with +which he had started. + +So you see a man can be drunk without wine! + +While still some distance from Bodola, he could see all the members of +his family looking out for him on the castle terrace, and no sooner did +they perceive his carriage, than they hastened down to greet him. He met +them all in the park, wife and children; they threw themselves on his +neck with cries of joy, and he kissed them all, one after another, over +and over again; but his warmest embraces were for his darling wife, who +smiled up at him with a radiant face, which he could not feast his eyes +upon enough. It seemed to him as if her eyes were brighter, her features +more enchanting, her lips sweeter than ever they had been. + +"What a fool a man is, to be sure," thought Beldi, "who, when his wife +is out of sight, is capable of supposing everything bad of her, and when +she stands before his eyes cannot make too much of her." + +In the abandonment of his joy he did not at first perceive that there +was a strange face in the family circle--a handsome, stately young Turk, +with frank and noble features, not unlike an Hungarian. + +"You do not even notice me, or perhaps you forget me," said the youth, +stepping in front of Beldi. + +Beldi looked at him. The youth's features were familiar to him, and yet +he could not recall his name till his youngest daughter, Aranka, who was +dangling on her father's arm, remarked archly-- + +"What! Not recognize Feriz Beg, papa! Why, I knew him at the first +glance." + +Beldi at once held out his hand and heartily greeted the youth, whose +manly features however wore a grave and serious look. + +"My father sends me to you on an urgent errand," said he, "and had you +not come, I must have gone to seek you, for my message admits of no +delay." + +Beldi was struck by the youth's earnest tone, and on reaching the castle +immediately took him aside into a private room, and there the young Beg +handed him a parchment roll tied round with silken cord, and sealed with +a yellow seal. Beldi broke the seal and read as follows-- + + "The blessing and protection of heaven rest upon you + and your family!--Transylvania is in great danger. The + Sultan is enraged at the war which Denis Banfi wages + with the Pasha of Grosswardein. They say that this + great noble is in league with the Emperor. See to it + that the land chastises Banfi, the power to do so is + still your own. But if the Prince cannot, or will not + punish him, the Sultan has sworn to drive the pair of + them out of the realm, and convert Transylvania into a + Turkish Pachalic. The Pashas of Grosswardein and + Temesvar, the Lord-Marchers, and the Tartar Khan have + been ordered to hold themselves in readiness to invade + Transylvania from all sides at a moment's notice. Put + a bit therefore in the mouth of this great lord, for + death hangs over your heads on the film of a spider's + web. + + "Your friend and brother, + + "KUCSUK PASHA." + +Beldi's face grew dark as he read this letter. So it was all in vain +that he had driven Banfi's name out of his head. This letter conjured up +that odious form once more before his eyes. + +He folded up the parchment and gave the grave youth a brief answer to +take back with him-- + +"Let your father know that we will take the necessary steps to avert the +threatened evil, and thank him heartily for his warning." + +Feriz Beg immediately quitted Bodola Castle. Beldi remained alone in his +room, pacing to and fro in a brown study, and racking his brains to find +a way out of the danger. He could find none. It was not to be expected +that Banfi's pride would yield to the Pasha, especially after a +brilliant victory and in a just cause; and yet the welfare of the land +required the sacrifice of the just cause. + +Brooding thus, he did not notice that somebody was tapping at his door, +who after thrice knocking and receiving no answer, opened it, and as +Beldi suddenly came to himself and looked around him with a start, he +perceived Michael Teleki standing before him. So amazed was Beldi by +this apparition, that for the moment the power of speech forsook him. + +"You appear surprised," said Teleki, observing his amazement. "You are +astonished that I should travel such a long way to see you, after +parting from you only twenty-four hours ago. But great events have taken +place in the meantime. Transylvania is threatened by a danger which must +be averted as quickly as possible." + +"I know it," replied Beldi, and putting his hand over the signature, he +let Teleki read Kucsuk's letter. + +"Great heaven!" exclaimed the minister. "You know more than I did. But +what I want to say on this matter is a secret which the very walls +around us may not hear." + +"I understand," replied Beldi, and immediately commanded his heydukes +to admit no one into the vestibules; placed guards in front of the +windows, and drew the curtains down to the ground. There now only +remained a little tapestried door, at the back of the room, which led +through a narrow corridor to his wife's bed-chamber, an arrangement very +common, at that time, in the mansions of Hungarian magnates. By way of +additional precaution Beldi closed this door also. + +"Does your Excellency feel secure enough now?" asked Beldi. + +"One thing more. Give me your word of honour that if what I am about to +disclose does not meet with your approbation, you will at least keep it +secret." + +"I promise," returned Beldi, impatiently awaiting the _denouement_ of +all this mystery. + +Teleki thereupon drew forth a long strip of parchment, unfolded it, and +held it before Beldi's eyes, without however letting it out of his +hands. + +It was the league against Banfi, signed and sealed by the Prince. + +The more Beldi read of this document, the blacker grew his looks, till +at last, turning his face away, he pushed the document aside with an +expression of deep disgust. + +"Sir," said he, "'tis a dirty piece of work!" + +Teleki was prepared for some such answer, and summoned to his aid all +the sophistry of which he was so perfect a master. + +"Beldi!" cried he, "we must, for once, put aside all narrow-minded +sentiment. Here it is a question of the end and not of the means. The +means may seem bad, but we really have no other. Whenever a subject +becomes so powerful in a state that the arm of the law is no longer able +to bring him to justice, then I say he has only himself to blame if the +state is compelled to conspire against him. He whom the axe of the +executioner cannot reach, must fall beneath the dagger of the bravo. +Denis Banfi, by despising the Prince's commands and waging war on his +own account, has placed himself outside the law. In such a case, where +the ordinary tribunals become inoperative, we must of course have resort +to secret tribunals. If any one injures me, and the law can give me no +remedy, I make use of my own weapons, and shoot him down wherever I meet +him. If the country is injured by any one whom it cannot punish, it must +fall back upon the _jus ligatum_, and lay hands upon him whenever and +wherever it can. The commonweal requires, the common danger compels +such a step." + +"We are in the hands of God!" replied Beldi. "If 'tis His will to +destroy the fatherland, we can only bow the head and die in defence of +our freedom with a good conscience. But never ought we to lift our hands +against the liberties we have inherited from our forefathers. Rather let +us endure the wrongs which spring from those liberties, than lay the axe +to the root of them ourselves! Rather let war and strife burst over the +land, than conspire against the laws! That may cost the nation its +blood; but this will destroy its very soul. I disapprove of this league, +and, sir, I mean to oppose it!" + +At these words Michael Teleki rose from his seat, sank down upon his +knees before Beldi, raised his hands to heaven, and cried-- + +"I swear by the living God, that as I hope for my own and my family's +protection and happiness here and for salvation hereafter, that what I +now do, I do as your loyal friend, well knowing that all Banfi's efforts +aim at the ruin of your house, and I solemnly adjure you, as you love +your life and the lives of your wife and children, to avert the +impending danger by signing the league. I have now done all in my power +to save you and my country, and that too at my own risk and peril. I +have no other object. Before God I lie not!" + +Beldi turned with calm dignity towards the minister, and said, in a tone +of immovable conviction-- + +"_Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!_" + + * * * * * + +A few moments after Teleki's arrival at Bodola, a mounted heyduke had +galloped into the courtyard; it was Andrew, Dame Apafi's faithful old +servant, who handed to Dame Beldi a letter from the Princess, adding +that the message was doubly urgent, as he already perceived in the +courtyard Teleki's coachman, whom he ought to have forestalled. + +Dame Beldi hastily opened the letter and read as follows-- + + "DEAR SISTER-- + + "Michael Teleki has set out for Bodola to see your + husband. His aim is to secretly ruin Banfi by the hand + of Beldi. The magnates have conspired together to + break the law. Fortunately, every one of them has a + wife, and in the hearts of our women the better + feelings of human nature are not yet extinguished. I + have charged each one of them to preserve their + husbands from Teleki's wiles; but 'tis to you that I + chiefly look for help. Beldi is the most eminent of + them all. If he joins the league, the rest will follow + his example; but he is also the most honourable of men + and the best of husbands. I count upon your firmness. + Move heaven and earth! + + "Your loving sister, + + "ANNA BORNEMISSA." + +On reading this letter, Dame Beldi almost swooned. + +Teleki had already been closeted with her husband for more than +half-an-hour, and the servants had brought word that every one had been +ordered away, even from the passages leading to the room. In an instant +she divined everything. Terror seized her. Perhaps it was already too +late! But what could she do? Suddenly, the secret corridor occurred to +her, which led from her bedroom to her husband's. Urged by fear, she +rapidly traversed the corridor, reached the tapestried door, stood still +before it with a beating heart, and listened. She could only hear +Teleki, and he was speaking in an unusually excited voice, which rose +almost to a scream. She looked through the keyhole, and beheld the +minister on his knees before her husband with uplifted hands, +endeavouring to move him by solemn oaths. + +Such a sight made Dame Beldi perfectly frantic. What must it be that +could make a man so proud and so exalted kneel down before Beldi? What +is he swearing so vehemently? Suddenly Banfi's name struck on her ear; +she turned pale with horror, and at the same instant she heard Beldi say +the words--"_Fiat justitia, pereat mundus!_" Ignorant as she was of the +Latin language, she at once jumped to the conclusion that her husband +had yielded, and in her desperation pressed hard upon the door-latch, +and finding it immovable, shook the door furiously, exclaiming wildly at +the same time-- + +"My husband! My beloved lord! Lord of my soul! Give no heed to Teleki's +words, for he would ruin you." + +Both the men started at this passionate cry, and Beldi rose from his +seat, went to the door, opened it, and cried angrily to his wife-- + +"Go to your work, woman! You have no business here." + +Then Dame Beldi lost her presence of mind altogether. Fear did not allow +her to reflect. The idea that her husband was consenting to Teleki's +schemes rendered her incapable of grasping the situation; and she forgot +that the most complaisant of husbands, rather than see his uxoriousness +paraded before the world, will do violence to his better nature. So Dame +Beldi rushed wildly into the room, sank down at her husband's feet, +convulsively clasped his knees, and cried in a voice of passionate +remonstrance-- + +"Sweet lord of my heart! I adjure you not to believe in that man. Don't +be led away. He would bring down innocent blood upon your head. You are +too just and merciful to become a headsman." + +"Get up, woman! You are mad!" + +"Oh! I know what I'm saying. I saw him kneel to you. He who believes in +God, kneels not to man. He would ruin Denis Banfi through you. Woe +betide us if you help him! For if Banfi be the first, you will assuredly +be the second." + +When Teleki saw his secret design thus exposed, he grew wroth. + +"If my wife were to treat me so," cried he passionately, "I would tear +her eyes out. If any one came to me with a saving word of friendship on +his tongue, I would thank him for it, and not allow my wife to lead me +by the nose." + +Beldi turned furiously upon his wife and ordered her out. + +"I'll remain here even if you kill me, for 'tis a matter of life or +death. When the peace of my family is at stake, I think 'tis time for me +to speak. I beg, I implore you to hear me. I'll not allow you to +sacrifice Banfi." + +Beldi was already so ashamed of this onslaught on his marital authority +that he was nearly beside himself; but when his wife began to plead for +Banfi, he started back as if an adder had bitten him. + +This did not escape Teleki, and with malicious innuendo he exclaimed-- + +"It seems to me that wives forget _some things_ much sooner than their +husbands." + +Quick as lightning the dart pierced through Beldi's soul. The +recollection of that kiss came back to him. Pale and speechless, he +seized his wife's arm; her loud sobs only inflamed his jealousy, and +dragging her to the tapestried door, he pushed her out and closed it +behind her. There she remained, lying on the threshold, loudly cursing +the Prince's minister, and hammering at the closed door with her fists. + +Beldi, pale as death, sat down at the table, gnashed his teeth, and +whispered huskily-- + +"Where's the document?" + +Teleki spread out the parchment roll before him on the table. + +Beldi took up his pen without a word, and wrote his name in a bold hand +beneath that of Michael Apafi. + +A triumphant smile played around Teleki's lips. + +No sooner was the deed done than something in Beldi's breast began to +accuse him. Resting his hand on the document, he turned with a very +grave face towards Teleki. + +"I expressly stipulate," he murmured, in a hollow voice, "that if Banfi +be arrested, right and justice shall be done to him, according to the +law of the land." + +"Quite so! Of course!" returned the Prince's counsellor, making a snatch +at the document. + +Still Beldi would not let it go. + +"Sir," said he, "promise me that you will not secretly assassinate +Banfi; but that when once he is arrested you will proceed against him +before the proper Court of Justice, and in the usual, legitimate way. If +you don't guarantee me that, I'll tear this parchment to pieces and +throw it into the fire, together with my own and the Prince's +signatures." + +"I promise it to you on my word of honour," replied the minister, +inwardly smiling at the man who was so weak so long as he stood upright, +and made such a brave show of firmness when he had already fallen. + +That same day Teleki hastened with the subscribed league to Ladislaus +Csaky, and from him to Haller, and from him to the Bethlens. As soon as +they saw Beldi's name, they signed the document without more ado, for +all of them hated Banfi. + +In every case the wives intervened. Terrible scenes took place. Nowhere +did Teleki escape scot-free. But the league was successfully carried +through, and that was, after all, the main thing. + +And thus it was that Transylvania dug her own grave. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CONSORT AND CONCUBINE. + + +Ever since that painful scene at Bonczhida, Lady Banfi had not met her +husband. Fate so willed it that Banfi was constantly away from home; +scarcely had he come back from the Diet of Fehervar when he was called +away to Somlyo, where his troops stood face to face with the Turks. +During the few hours however that he remained at home, his wife had +locked herself up from him; not even the domestics caught a glimpse of +her face. She did not quit her chamber, and received no one. + +One day both the spouses were invited to Roppad by a distant kinsman, +one Gabriel Vitez, who knew nothing of their estrangement, to act as +sponsors to his new-born son. To decline the invitation was impossible, +and thus it came about that on the day in question, Lady Banfi coming +from Bonczhida and her husband from Somlyo met together, to their mutual +confusion, at the festive mansion of the Vitezes. + +At the first meeting they instinctively shrank back from each other. +They had both indeed longed for such a meeting, but pride had kept them +apart, and thus while their affection rejoiced at, their pride revolted +against this chance encounter. Of course they let nothing of all this +appear openly. In the presence of their friends they had so to conduct +themselves that nobody might suspect that this meeting was anything but +an everyday occurrence. + +At the end of the banquet, which lasted far into the night, Master +Gabriel Vitez took care that all his guests should be lodged with the +utmost convenience. Husbands and wives and all the young girls had +separate quarters, and the young men were accommodated in the hunting +saloon. For Banfi and his spouse the garden pavilion had been reserved, +which, being at some distance from the noisy courtyard, promised to be +the quietest resting-place of all. The host, with the most distinguished +courtesy, accompanied them thither himself. + +It was now a long time since they had slept together under the same +roof. + +Before so many acquaintances they could not declare their estrangement, +and had been compelled to accept the nice quarters provided for them by +their amiable host, who insisted, despite their protests, in showing +them the way; jested pleasantly with them for a time, and only left them +to themselves after wishing them good-night some scores of times. + +The pavilion consisted of two small adjoining rooms, such cosy little +cribs, with quite an air of home about them. In one of them a merry fire +was crackling and flickering on the hearth. In the corner a tall solemn +clock was softly ticking. The brocade curtains of the large tester-bed +were half drawn back, revealing behind them a comfortable, snow-white, +downy expanse, on which lay, side by side, _two_ little pillows adorned +with red ribbons. + +In the other room, which was half lighted by the reflection of the fire, +a couch was visible provided with a bear-skin covering and a single +stag-skin bolster. In all probability no one had ever thought that it +would be occupied. + +Banfi looked sadly at his wife. Now that he was no longer free to +approach her, he saw what a heaven he had possessed in that noble and +lovely being. She stood before him with downcast eyes, so sorrowful and +yet so mild. + +In her heart, too, many traitorous thoughts pleaded for her husband; +wounded pride, that unbending judge, was already beginning to waver. In +a noble breast it is not hate but grief that takes the place of love. + +Banfi drew nearer to his wife, seized her hand, and pressed it in his +own. He felt that her hand trembled, but he also felt that it did not +return his pressure. + +He went still further. He tenderly pressed her to him, and kissed her +forehead, cheeks, and lips. She suffered his caresses but did not return +them. But if only she had looked up into her husband's eyes, she would +have seen them glistening with two tears as sincere as ever repentant +sinner shed. + +Banfi, with a deep sigh, sat down in an armchair, still holding +Margaret's hand in his own; it needed but a single tender word from his +wife, and he would have flung himself at her feet and wept like a +remorseful child. Instead of that, Dame Banfi, with self-denying +affectation, said to her husband-- + +"Do you wish to remain in this room, and shall I go into the other?" + +The icy tone of these words cut Banfi to the heart. His broad breast +heaved a deep sigh, his eyes looked sorrowfully at Margaret's joyless +face--to him a closed paradise. He rose gravely from his seat, pressed +his wife's hand to his lips, whispered her a scarcely audible +good-night, and tottered into the adjoining room, closing the door +behind him. + +Dame Banfi set about disrobing, but on casting a glance at the lonely +couch, a painful feeling overcame her. She threw herself sobbing on the +pillows, and then, finding no rest for her soul there, she stood up +again, drew a chair in front of the fire, sat down, and burying her face +in her hands indulged in brooding, melancholy, dreamy thoughts. + +And can there be any greater grief than when the heart fights against +its own conviction; when a woman can no longer conceal from herself that +the ideal of her love, him whom, after God, she loves the most, is after +all only a common, ordinary mortal?--that he whom she has loved so nobly +deserves nothing but her contempt? And yet she cannot but love him! She +feels she ought to hate him, yet she cannot bear the thought of being +without him. She would fain die for him, and the opportunity of dying +will not come. + +A single unlocked door separates her from him. They are only a few steps +apart. How small the distance, and yet how great! She can hear him +sighing. He too cannot sleep while he is so near to her whom he has so +deeply wounded. What bliss it would be to traverse those few steps, to +nestle side by side, to gratify each other's longings! But +reconciliation is impossible; her heart yearns after it and recoils from +it, loves and loathes at the same moment. + +Oh! why can we not forget the Past? Why is it impossible to prevent +Grief from grieving? + +The lady fell a-thinking, a-dreaming. + +It seemed to her as if she were talking to her husband in a vision-- + +"You said yourself that we ought to part while we still loved each +other, while our hearts would bleed at the rupture. Then why don't you +do it? Why do you sigh when you look at me? Why do you kiss me? Those +sighs, those kisses are torture to me; they wound my heart. Let us +part! It was your own wish." + +The fire had burnt very low in the grate; over the ruddy embers a pale, +ever-dwindling flame was feebly flickering to and fro, like the last +thought of an extinguished passion. All around the room was growing +darker and darker; the light of the expiring embers barely lit up the +form of the sorrowing lady who sat there, with her head buried in her +hands, like a marble statue mourning over a tomb. + +Suddenly, amid the silence of the night and of her own thoughts, it +seemed to her as if whispering voices and stealthy footsteps were +approaching the doors of the pavilion. + +Lady Banfi really did hear these sounds; but she was like one but +half-awakened from his first sleep, who hears but heeds not, who knows +what is going on about him without regarding it. + +The whispering was now audible close beneath the windows, and now and +then it seemed to her as if the smothered clash of arms was mingling +with it. In her dreamy state the lady fancied she had got up and bolted +the door; but this was a delusion, the door remained ajar. + +Then some one pressed the latch, and the creaking sound made Lady Banfi +dream that her husband had come to her, and was speaking to her in a +tearful, supplicating voice. She felt the terrors of nightmare strong +upon her as she came within the magnetic influence of that shape. "Let +us part, Banfi!" she would have said, but the words died away on her +lips. Then the dream-shape whispered to her--"I am not Banfi, but the +headsman!" and seized her hand. + +At this cold touch Lady Banfi uttered a shriek and started up. + +Two men stood before her with drawn swords. The lady looked into their +faces with a shudder. Both were well known to her. One was Caspar +Kornis, chief captain of the Maros district, the other John Daczo, chief +captain of Csik, who now stood before her with menacing looks, and the +points of their naked swords at her breast. + +"Not a sound, my lady!" said Daczo grimly. "Where's Banfi?" + +The lady, thus scared out of her first sleep, was scarcely able to +distinguish the objects around her: terror made her dumb. + +Suddenly she observed through the open door that the passage was filled +with armed men, whereupon her presence of mind seemed instantly and +completely to return. She grasped at once the tremendous significance of +the moment, and when Daczo, gnashing his teeth, again asked her where +Banfi was, she bounded from her chair, ran to the door which separated +her husband's chamber from her own, turned the key quickly round, and +screamed with all her might-- + +"Banfi! Save yourself! They seek your life!" + +Daczo ran forward to stop her mouth and snatch the key from her; but +with singular presence of mind Lady Banfi had, in the meantime, thrown +the key into the heart of the red-hot embers, and cried again-- + +"Fly, Banfi! Your enemies are here!" + +Daczo tried to pick the key out of the fire, and burnt his fingers very +badly in the attempt, whereupon, still more furious, he rushed upon the +lady sword in hand to cut her down, but Kornis held him back. + +"Softly, sir! We have no orders to kill the woman, nor would it be +worthy of us; let us try rather to burst open the door as quickly as +possible," and with that they both pressed their shoulders against the +door, Daczo cursing and swearing, and calling upon all the devils in +hell to help him, while Lady Banfi on her knees prayed God to allow her +husband to escape. + + * * * * * + +Banfi had gone to sleep at the same time as his wife. He too had had a +tormenting dream. He fancied he was in prison, and the moment he heard +Margaret's shriek, he sprang in terror from his couch, tore open the +window of the pavilion, and without thinking what he was doing, leaped +into the garden at a single bound. He looked hurriedly about him. The +house was surrounded by armed Szeklers, and the rear of the garden was +bounded by a broad ditch filled with greenish rain-water. Amongst the +masses of infantry stood here and there a group of grooms, holding by +the bridles the chargers from which their masters had just dismounted. + +Banfi had very little time for reflection, nor did he need much. Under +cover of the darkness, he rushed swiftly upon the nearest groom, gave +him a buffet which brought the blood in streams from his nose and mouth, +sprang upon one of the vacant horses, and struck the spurs into its +flanks. + +The cry of the groom, who had fallen beneath the horse but still held on +fast by the bridle, brought up to the spot a crowd of yelling Szeklers. +It immediately occurred to Banfi to put his hands into his +saddle-pouches, where pistols were sure to be found, and the moment he +felt the handles, he as quick as light sent two shots among the crowd +which was pressing upon him from all sides, and taking advantage of the +consequent hubbub and confusion, spurred his horse fiercely, till it +reared and plunged and flew away with him through the garden. The groom +still stuck to it like a leech, and allowed himself to be dragged along +the ground, till at last his head came into collision with the stump of +a tree and he fell back unconscious. Banfi thereupon galloped towards +the ditch, and leaped it at a single bold bound; his pursuers, not +daring to follow him that way, were obliged to make a long detour to +reach the gates, thus giving Banfi a start of several hundred paces. His +steed too, scared by the noise of the pursuit, had become half frantic, +and Banfi gave him his head, and away they went over stock and stone, up +hill and down dale, without aim or purpose. + + * * * * * + +"Oh, accursed woman!" roared Daczo, threatening Lady Banfi with his +fists, when he learnt that Banfi had made his escape. "'Tis all through +you that Banfi has slipped through our fingers." + +"Oh, Almighty God! I thank Thee!" stammered Margaret, with hands +upraised to heaven. + +The Szeklers, enraged at having let the husband escape, swung their +weapons and rushed upon the wife to murder her. + +"Let her die! Her blood be upon her own head!" they roared, with bestial +rage. + +"Kill me! Death will be welcome to me!" cried Margaret, kneeling down +before them. "To die for him was my only wish. God be with me!" + +"Be off with you!" cried Kornis, suddenly intervening, beating down the +weapons of the Szeklers with his sword, and covering the kneeling lady +with his body. "Shame on you! Would you kill a woman? Ye are worse than +the Pagan Tartars. If you've let Banfi escape, run after him." + +"We'll kill her! We'll kill her!" bellowed the Szeklers, and again they +attempted to tear Kornis away from the lady. + +"Eh! you damned beasts! Who commands here, I should like to know? Am I +not your captain?" + +"No!" bluntly replied a stiff-necked, bull-headed Szekler, twitching +his bulky shoulders to and fro. "Our captain is Nicholas Bethlen, and he +is not here." + +"Then go and find him. But let me tell you that whoever does not +instantly quit this room shall be beaten into a pulp." + +Still the Szeklers persisted in remaining, and there is no knowing what +they might not have done, had not one of the hindermost suddenly +exclaimed-- + +"Let us go to Bonczhida!" + +Thereupon all the others fell a-shouting--"To Bonczhida! to Bonczhida!" +and they withdrew, cursing horribly, and in the most chaotic confusion. + +But Captain Kornis quietly put Lady Banfi into a carriage, and sent her +to Bethlen Castle, which then belonged to Paul Beldi, hoping that Banfi +would behave with a little more discretion when he heard that his wife +was a prisoner. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, the Szekler rabble sent out against Banfi by order of the +Prince had arrived at Bonczhida, and on showing the castellan the +Prince's mandate, the gates were opened to them without the slightest +contradiction. Daczo only left a portion of his band there, whom he +strictly charged to arrest Banfi the moment he appeared, then with the +rest he went on to Oermenyes, where Banfi had another castle, to seek him +there. + +The Szeklers left behind at Bonczhida no sooner perceived themselves +captainless, than they proceeded to make themselves perfectly at home in +the occupied castle. At first indeed they only jostled each other in the +hall and vestibules, but presently they began to insist that the private +apartments should also be thrown open to them. + +The castellan hesitated. He declared that there was no necessity for +such a step, and begged the noble gentlemen to keep within their legal +rights, whereupon the before-mentioned broad-shouldered, bull-headed +rogue stepped forth, twirled his blonde moustache, which consisted of +about nine hairs, and thrusting his pock-marked face close under the +castellan's nose, exclaimed-- + +"What do you mean by that? You are a conspirator! You have robber-bands +concealed in those rooms. Open the doors instantly, or we'll burn the +house down!" + +The castellan was very wroth, but he was also very frightened, so he +threw open the rooms in order that the Szeklers might see with their +own eyes that nobody was concealed there. + +The Szeklers thereupon, with astonishing conscientiousness, thoroughly +explored every hole and corner, even looking into places where no one +would ever have thought of hiding anything. They looked under and inside +all the beds. They pulled out all the cupboards. They took the grates +out bodily to see what was behind them. They pitched all the books out +of the book-cases, and, after ransacking every room, came at last to +Lady Banfi's bed-chamber. + +"Look! look! There sits Banfi!" cried the bull-headed ringleader, +recoiling at first before a lifelike portrait of the Baron, but +immediately afterwards rushing forward and gouging out one of its eyes +with his spear. "And that pretty lady yonder is his wife, I suppose?" +asked he, pointing to another portrait by the side of the first. "Ai, +ai, ai! We were like to have killed her a little while ago, not knowing +that she was so pretty. Let us be off, comrades! This room we must leave +untouched, for it belongs to that pretty lady," and with that he drove +his comrades out, and wrote with a piece of charcoal on the white +enamelled door, in letters each an ell long--"THIS IS THE PRETTY LADY'S +CHAMBER." + +"Why do you do that?" asked the castellan in some surprise. + +"To prevent any fuddled blockhead from thrusting his nose in there, in +case we all get drunk." + +"But where will you all get the drink from, pray?" asked the castellan, +more and more amazed. + +"Nay, gossip! we must certainly have a peep at the cellars also, to see +if anybody is lurking there." + +"There you cannot go, and so I tell you once for all, unless you have +brought petards with you under your coats of mail." + +"What! Just say that again! I should like to hear it once more. Do you +know, gossip, to whom you are speaking? My name is Firi Firtos, and if +you speak a single word more, I'll chuck you over the house, so that you +will fall to the ground in half-a-dozen pieces." + +"Why bandy words with him?" cried a voice from the crowd. "Let us pitch +the fellow out of the window." + +The Szeklers did not wait to be told twice, but instantly raised the +castellan into the air and threw him, despite his frantic struggles, out +of the window. Luckily he fell on his feet, and took to his heels, to +the great indignation of Firi Firtos, who seized all the cactus and +hortensia plants that stood in the windows, and hurled them after him, +pots and all, after which the whole mob rushed bellowing down to the +cellars. Finding it impossible to open the large iron doors, they +dragged forward huge casks, filled them with big stones, and sent them +flying down the cellar steps, till at last the iron doors fell in with a +tremendous crash. + +The vast cellar was fitted with huge butts and barrels of every size and +shape, and the Szeklers forthwith fell upon them and knocked the tops +off with their morning-stars to see what was inside them. The costly +wine poured out into the cellar. The Szeklers drank as only Szeklers can +drink, and what they could not drink was simply wasted. + +When they had all drunk as much as they could hold, the mob stormed +up-stairs again, and while another batch took their place below, they +forced their way into the state-rooms, rolled about on the costly divans +and oriental carpets, hustled one another against the furniture and +mirrors, and indulged in many other like pleasantries. Firi Firtos +climbed on to a round ebony table in order to paint a moustache on the +portrait of a mediaeval lady with a piece of charcoal, but some one else +jerked the table from under him, and the merry wag fell crashing down +into a glass chest containing the family treasures. Mad with rage, he +immediately began pitching about everything which came to hand: gorgeous +gold pocals, silver plates, enamelled snuff-boxes, flew one after +another at the heads of the Szeklers, who, entering into the joke, flung +them all back at him with great spirit. + +This was the signal for a general devastation. The mania for destruction +is contagious. It needs but one to begin it, and the mob, as if +rejoicing at the sight, is never so ready as when there is something to +be pulled, torn, or smashed to bits. In an instant every piece of +furniture was broken up and every bit of tapestry torn down. Splendid +costumes, costly, fur-trimmed pelisses, gala-mantles--everything was +torn to pieces. They ripped open the feather-beds, scattered the +eider-down out of the windows, and bellowed to those who stood +below--"It is snowing! it is snowing!" whereupon all the others came +rushing up to tear and pull to pieces what still remained whole. + +They pulled up the fragrant jasmines by the roots to make posies of +them, and cut up into neckties the delicate tapestries which Lady Banfi +had worked with her own hands. Stealing gave the Szeklers no pleasure, +it was destruction for its own sake that they found so delightful. Thus +they threw to the ground a rare and costly clock which needed winding +only once a year, broke it up, distributed the wheels and chains as +buckles for their shoes, and melted the silver keys into bullets, which +they fired off into the air. + +Here too it was edifying to see how Firi Firtos tried to get at the +bottom of everything. He took down an antique urn and stuck it on his +head upside down by way of a helmet. A clock chain he wound round his +loins as a girdle, and he danced about hugging in his arms a huge statue +of Gutenberg, declaring that it would make an excellent scarecrow for +the Somlyo vineyards. + +The fragments of the broken furniture they piled up on the hearth, and +made a great fire of the priceless ebony, mahogany, and palisander +woods. The conflagration of a whole village would not have been half so +costly. + +Over this fire they hung, on a silver chain, a Corinthian amphora of +exquisite workmanship by way of a kettle, filled it with finely-chopped +mutton, and sent Firi Firtos out for beans, salt, and onions. He brought +them instead green coffee beans, white powdered sugar, and the most +costly tulip, amaryllis, and hyacinth bulbs, all of which they threw +pell-mell into the kettle, with the natural consequence that the mess, +when finished, was very nearly the death of them all, and the end of it +was that they pitched Firi Firtos neck and crop into the courtyard. + +The Szekler, mad with rage and unable to obtain any other satisfaction, +rushed down to the cellars to drink himself dead drunk, but there all +the hogsheads had already been staved in, and he waded in wine up to his +middle. Looking about him, he perceived a door leading to a second +cellar, broke it open with his axe, and was overjoyed to see by the +light of the torch he held in his hand, a whole row of fresh casks. He +immediately rushed upon the first of them, and knocking the top in, held +the torch over it to see what was flowing out. It was _gunpowder_! +Luckily for him he was drunk, otherwise he would certainly have sent the +castle and everything it contained the shortest way to heaven. "That's +not good to drink!" thought he, and broke open the second cask; in that +too there was powder, and in the third also, and he swore a terrible +oath that if the fourth held the same thing he would hurl the torch into +it holus bolus. In the fourth cask, however, there was honey, and shake +it as much as he would, he could get nothing else out of it. At last he +came upon a six-gallon cask, and, smelling the bung, inhaled a strong +odour of spirits, which made him madder than ever, and seizing it by the +spigot he raised it bodily from the ground and swallowed long draughts +of the strong corn brandy, till over he fell backwards, cask and all. +There he wallowed about in the streaming honey; struggled laboriously to +his feet again, stumbled a few steps further on, fell down into the +gunpowder; rolled backwards and forwards in it for some time, and +finally, all candied as he was, scrambled into the courtyard, and there +the honey-and-powder-bedaubed form fell prone into the heaps of +eider-down which covered the ground, and sprawled helplessly about till +he was covered with plumage from the crown of his head to the soles of +his jack-boots, and in this plight the grotesquely hideous creature +crawled up stairs on all fours in amongst his carousing companions. The +man no longer resembled any known beast of the Old or New Worlds. He was +black and white all over: white where he was not black, and black where +he was not white. Perhaps he had some distant resemblance to a polar +bear with a hide of feathers instead of hair, but his roaring was like +the roaring of a hippopotamus. It is therefore not surprising that when +the Szeklers beheld this strange monster crawling towards them on all +fours and bellowing loudly, they should take to their heels in terror, +scatter to all points of the compass, and leave the flesh-filled kettle +in the lurch. Most of them took the shortest but most dangerous way out +of the window, exclaiming--"That is Banfi's devil! Here comes Banfi's +devil!" + +The Szekler, perceiving the success of his involuntary masquerade, sent +after the fugitives a still more ghastly howl, took the amphora down +from the chain, sat down with it in the middle of the parquetted floor, +thrust both hands into it at once like a demon of the woods, and gobbled +and roared alternately. + +And these savage scenes took place in the very same chamber where, only +a few days before, the delicate form of Dame Banfi had appeared among +her jasmines and mimosas like a melancholy shade from fairyland which +only listens with its soul and speaks with its eyes. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Denis Banfi, after breaking through the ambush laid for him at +Koppad, began, as the noise of the pursuit gradually died away, to look +about him in the star-bright night, and picked his way so carefully +through woods and over stubble-fields that, at dawn of day, he saw +before him the towers of Klausenburg. + +Once rid of the terrors of pursuit, anger and revenge began to rage +within him. He thought at first that this night attack was simply an +audacious conspiracy of his private enemies concocted without the +knowledge of the Prince, on the principle that an accomplished act is +more easily justifiable than an act that has still to be accomplished. +But the attempt had not succeeded, and the escaped lion had both the +will and the power to turn upon his pursuers and teach them respect for +the laws. + +In the plain before the town Banfi's troops were just going through +their morning exercises when their leader came galloping up to them, +pale, agitated, unarmed, and without either hat or mantle. His captains +hastened towards him, aghast and curious. + +"I've just escaped from a murderous assault," said Banfi, with a hoarse +voice and a heaving breast; "my enemies have treacherously fallen upon +me. I have escaped them, but my wife is in their hands. I recognized the +voices of Daczo and Kornis among my pursuers." + +"Yes, and Daczo's name is embroidered on this saddle-cloth," said +Michael Angel. + +Banfi appeared much disturbed. His face was dark and troubled, as if +neither the future nor the past was quite clear to him. + +"I don't understand it at all," said he to his captains. "If the attack +was by the Prince's command, I ought to have been served beforehand with +a writ, a citation, or, at the very least, a notice of judgment. If +however it be only an act of private vengeance, my band is more than +sufficient to reach these honest Szeklers. In any case, you will remain +under arms before the town while I go up to my castle. In a few hours I +shall know whither we have to turn." + +Thereupon Banfi rode into the town, accompanied by Michael Angel. As he +turned the corner of his palace, he was obliged to pass over the ground +where the house of Dame Saint Pauli had formerly stood. All that +remained of it now was a large stone, and Banfi, chancing to look in +that direction, saw the mistress of the vanished house sitting on that +single stone, and evidently awaiting him. He turned impatiently away, +but she arose, curtseyed low, and cried derisively-- + +"Good-morning, your Excellency! Good-morning!" + +Banfi haughtily rode on without a word. At the palace gate the castellan +of Bonczhida awaited him, who, after escaping from the violence of the +Szeklers, had discreetly kept his evil tidings secret, and now told his +lord, in a hurried whisper, that his castle had been turned upside down, +and the Szeklers were making merry there to their hearts' content. + +Banfi answered not a syllable, but he sent for his armour and his +charger, and calmly got ready to depart. + +"Your lordship would do well to hasten," said the castellan; "by this +time the Szeklers must have penetrated into the state apartments." + +"It is well," replied Banfi, walking up and down the room with folded +arms. + +"No, my lord; it is not well. They have smashed to pieces everything in +the rooms, torn the carpets to shreds, divided among them the +curiosities, flooded the cellars with wine, and even made away with the +horses." + +"It does not matter," replied the magnate hoarsely. What cared he at +that moment for his costliest treasures, his wine, his horses? + +"They have done still worse, my lord. They forced their way into her +ladyship's bedroom, set up the bust of her ladyship as a target, and +mutilated it horribly amidst peals of laughter." + +"What! My wife's bust?" cried Banfi, putting his hand to his sword. "My +wife's bust did you say?" repeated he with sparkling eyes. "Ha!" he +roared, and tearing his sword from its sheath, raised his face to heaven +with an expression which no one had ever seen there before. It was like +the face of a furious tiger chained down by force, with bloodshot eyes, +thick starting veins in the forehead, and lips thirsting after blood. +"God be gracious and merciful to them!" cried he, with a terrible voice, +threw himself upon his horse, and hastened to his host. + +"My friends!" cried he, ere yet he had had time to marshal their ranks. +"A marauding swarm of hornets has fallen upon my castle and plundered +it. They have smashed everything in my rooms, emptied my stables, stolen +or destroyed my family treasures. All that troubles me little. Let the +half-starved wretches eat and drink their fill! Let them keep what they +have got! Let them rob, burn, and ravage if they will, poor devils! I am +still the master of many mansions, and can pay off this beggarly +Szekler crew out of one pocket. But they have defaced the image of my +wife!--my wife I say! Therefore will I take vengeance upon them, a +fearful vengeance. Follow me! The trees of the orchards of Bonczhida +have not borne fruit for a long time. We will now hang fruit upon them +ourselves!" + +The enthusiastic shouts of the squadrons proved that the host was ready +to follow Banfi whithersoever he might choose to lead it. The captains +marshalled their divisions, and the second flourish of trumpets had +already sounded, when a company of twelve horsemen suddenly appeared in +front of Banfi's host. In the foremost of this company they recognized +the Prince's herald, a broad-shouldered man of gigantic stature, who +boldly rode up to Banfi and his staff, and raising his escutcheoned +baton, cried--"Halt!" + +"Use your eyes! We _are_ halting!" retorted Michael Angel. + +"In the name of his Highness, the Prince, I cite you, Denis Banfi, to +appear within three days before the Privy Council at Karoly-Fehervar, +there to defend yourself as best you may against the charges brought +against you. Till then your consort remains in our hands as a hostage +for your good behaviour." + +"We _are_ coming," retorted Michael Angel; "don't you see that we are +already about to start? We only wanted to know whither, and now we know +it." + +"Silence, captain!" cried Banfi; "one must not jest with the Prince's +ambassador." + +The herald next turned to the captains. + +"This citation does not concern you. I have a very different message to +deliver to you in the Prince's name." + +"You had better keep your message to yourself, or I'll speak a word in +your ears which will make them tingle," jeered one of the captains, +aiming at the herald with his pistol. + +"Down with your weapons," exclaimed Banfi; "let him proclaim the +Prince's mandate. Give him room that he may speak freely." + +The herald rose in his stirrups, and looking along the ranks cried +aloud-- + +"The Prince forbids you from henceforth to obey Banfi! Whoever takes up +weapons for him is a traitor!" + +"You're a traitor yourself," roared Michael Angel, and the next moment +the crowd fell furiously upon the herald, with loud cries of "Kill him! +kill him!" A hundred blades flashed simultaneously over his head. + +"Hold!" cried Banfi in a voice of thunder, covering the herald with his +body; "this man's person is sacred and inviolable. To your places! +Sheathe your swords! I--your leader--command it!" + +"Eljen! eljen!" roared the brigades, and at the word of command they +fell back into their places and stood there like an iron wall. + +"You will not be very angry with me," said Banfi to the herald, who had +suddenly turned deadly pale, "you will not be very angry with me, I +hope, for making them obey me this once? Go back to the Prince and tell +him that in three days I will appear before him." + +"And tell him that we will be there too," cried the captains in chorus. + +The herald and his suite withdrew. Banfi moodily bent his head. + +The third flourish of trumpets had already sounded, and the banners were +all unfurled; but Banfi still continued staring blankly, darkly, dumbly +before him. + +"Draw your sword, my lord!" cried Angel; "place yourself at our head, +and let us start. First to Bonczhida and then to Fehervar." + +"What do you say?" said Banfi, with a start. "What is it?" + +"I say that if the law of the sword is to try you, the sword must also +be your defence." + +"And such a process is generally called _civil war_!" + +"We have not kindled it." + +"Nor will we fan it. 'Tis no longer, I see, a struggle against my +personal enemies, but against the Prince, and he is the head of the +land." + +"And are not you its right arm? If they choose to light up the flames of +civil war, we will not allow it to be quenched in your blood." + +"And why should my blood flow at all? Have I committed any capital +offence? Can I even be charged with such a thing?" + +"You are powerful, and that is a sufficient reason for killing you." + +"I care not. I'll go, and what is more, alone. My wife is in their +hands. They have the power to make me feel their wrath in the most +painful way, and if there were no other reason for appearing, it is my +knightly duty to release her." + +"You can save both her and yourself much more efficaciously by force of +arms." + +"I have nothing to fear. I have done nothing for which I need blush in +the sight of justice, and if they plot privily against me, are not you +here? Summon hither my Somlyo troops as well, and only intervene if they +practise foul play." + +"Oh, my lord! that army is good for nothing which is abandoned by its +leader. To-day it would go through fire and water for you, and is even +ready to proclaim you Prince; but to-morrow, when it hears that you have +appeared before the court, it will disperse and deny you." + +"They need know nothing of my resolution. I'll immediately take coach +and go to Fehervar. Tell the troops I've gone to Somlyo to collect my +other forces, and keep them under arms till you hear from me." + +With that Banfi rode off to Klausenburg, and Michael Angel irritably +stuck his sword into its sheath and told the troops that they might rest +if they felt tired. + + * * * * * + +An hour later Banfi was rolling in a carriage-and-four towards Torda, on +his way to Fehervar; a mounted servant led a spare horse after him by +the bridle. + +The further he withdrew from the seat of his power, the more anxious he +became. His soul wavered. He began to see phantoms at every step. Only +his pride prevented him from turning back again. + +Everything now wore a different aspect. He could read in the looks and +salutations of all whom he met what they thought of him. A smile was a +sign of compassion; a mere nod, a token of ill-will. He stopped to speak +to every one, even to very slight acquaintances, even to those whom he +had hitherto looked down upon or had never regarded at all. He even +condescended to question them. In the hour of misfortune it is wonderful +how a man recollects all his acquaintances. At such a time he who once +haughtily rejected the hand of friendship is ready to meet his very +enemy half-way. + +Suddenly he perceived an open carriage coming towards him from Torda, +and in it sat a man wrapped up in a grey cloak, in whom, as he passed, +Banfi recognized Martin Kuncz, the Unitarian bishop; he called to him to +stop for a moment. The bishop, not hearing him for the clatter of the +wheels, simply doffed his hat and drove on. Banfi thought he did it on +purpose, and took it for a very bad omen. He who ordinarily treated all +danger so lightly, now recoiled before the veriest bugbears. He stopped +his carriage, and taking horse bade his coachman drive on to Torda and +await him there. In the meantime he galloped after the bishop's +carriage, whereupon the bishop, catching sight of him, stopped and +awaited the magnate, who cried to him from a distance-- + +"So you will not answer when I speak to you, eh?" + +"I am at your lordship's command. I did not know that you wished to +speak to me." + +"You know my situation, I suppose? What do you think of it? What ought I +to do?" + +"In such a case, my lord, it is as difficult to give advice as to take +it." + +"I have resolved to appear to the citation." + +"Really, my lord?" + +"I have nothing to fear. I feel that my cause is just." + +"No doubt; but it does not follow that you will get justice because your +cause is just. In this world anything is possible." + +Banfi understood the allusion. He had formerly said the very same words +to the bishop, and now he had not even sufficient strength of mind to +leave him and go on his way defiantly; on the contrary, he dallied with +him for some time longer. + +"The Prince indeed is my enemy; but the Princess has always defended me, +and I have every confidence in her Highness." + +"Yes; but unfortunately the Prince has quarrelled with his consort. They +say that he even forbids her to enter his apartments." + +This answer seemed to quite confound Banfi; but he had still one hope +left. + +"I don't believe they'd dare to do me mischief, for they know that at +Klausenburg and Somlyo I have armies in battle array which can call them +to account at any moment." + +"Oh, my lord, it is difficult to direct an army from the walls of a +prison, and you know very well that a live dog is stronger than a dead +lion." + +These words seemed to produce a great change in Banfi. For a time he +moodily rode by Kuncz's carriage; then, after a long pause, he replied +in a very low voice--"You are right," gave his horse the spur, and rode +back to Klausenburg with the firm resolve of not allowing himself to be +enticed from his stronghold. + +On reaching the spot where scarcely six hours before he had restrained +the enthusiastic ardour of his troops, he was much surprised to find a +band of gipsies apparently searching for something on the ground. + +"What are you doing here?" cried he, as he came up to them. + +At this question their leader came forward, and recognizing Banfi, +humbly doffed his cap. + +"Verily, your Excellency, the gipsies have come hither to collect the +cartridges which the brave and noble gentlemen have scattered about +here." + +"But where then are the gentlemen?" + +"Gone, your Excellency." + +"But why, and whither?" + +"The moment they heard your lordship had quitted +Klausenburg--whew!--they dispersed in all directions." + +"And Michael Angel?" + +"He was the first to depart." + +Banfi felt sick and dizzy. The tears rushed to his eyes. To be so +abandoned by every one, by Fate, by his fellow-men, and even by his own +self-confidence! What now remained of all his former might? Whither +should he turn? What should he devise? Every way was closed against him. +Neither with the sword of justice nor with the sword of battle could he +fight. There was no hope and no refuge. + +His horse carried him whither it would. The magnate sat upon it with a +darkened face, staring blankly at the clouds or on the ground. The +earth, the sky, and his own heart--everything within him and around him +was dark and desolate. Hitherto his soul had been so full of pride that +there was no room for anything else, and now all his pride was gone, and +had left a hideous blank behind it. On, on he went; but it was his horse +that chose the road. Vast forests lay before him, and he thought--What +lies beyond those forests? Lofty hills. And what beyond the hills? Still +higher hills. And what then? The snowy peaks. And nowhere was there any +refuge or shelter for him! So at the very first stroke every one had +fallen away from him, and he who only the day before had ruled over the +half of Transylvania, and held fortresses at his disposal, cannot even +find a hut to shelter him from the night. Or shall he give himself up +to the derision of his enemies, and not even have the poor satisfaction +of meeting death with front erect and a smiling countenance? Shall he +perish ignobly like a hunted beast? He fell a-thinking. If die he must, +he would at least die like a man. But how? + +Gradually a thought began to dawn in his benighted soul, and with that +thought the colour returned to his cheeks. Slowly he raised his head, +and this secret thought ripening into a quick resolution, it was as +though a voice within him cried--"Yes! Thither! thither!" His eyes began +to sparkle, he turned his horse's head towards the forest, and +disappeared beneath the thick foliage. + + * * * * * + +The tempest is raging. The storm snaps the trees. The rain patters down, +and the swollen torrents roar. From time to time fitful lightning +flashes illumine the whole region, and snowy mountain peaks grow dark +and the black sky gleams white--and again the sky darkens and the snowy +peaks shine forth. + +The scanty patches of brushwood clinging to the bald rocks are rudely +torn and shaken by the hurricane, and the distant pine forests roar like +the last trump. Every beast crouches trembling in its den and listens to +the storm. + +Lofty, inaccessibly steep rocks shut out the horizon, and far, far down +in the vale below, like a toiling ant, we see a horseman struggling +through the pathless wilderness. + +God be merciful to him in such a night in such a place! + +It is the Devil's Garden! + + * * * * * + +A gorgeous oriental chamber opens out before us. Round about the walls +gleam hundreds of torches; but the ceiling is so lofty that it is +invisible, the light of the torches never reaches it. Two rows of +columns support the gigantic architrave, slender columns with capitals +in the shape of beasts' heads, as we are wont to see them in ancient +Persian temples. Splendid curtains fill up the interstices of the +columns. Moorish arabesques adorn the walls; the arched portals are +ablaze with gold and malachite. In the centre of the room a lofty red +velvet couch rests on four gold griffins with amethyst eyes. In front of +the couch is a little ivory table, supported by intertwining silver +snakes, and beside the table a golden censer exhales light-blue fragrant +clouds of ambergris and aloes. On the couch reclines a sylph-like girl +with languishing and yet ardent eyes. A string of pearls, dependent from +her neck, draws her light tunic up to her bosom. Her slender form is +girdled round the hips by a gorgeous oriental shawl. Her black locks are +held together by a golden fillet, which encircles her brows, and the +huge diamond clasp of this fillet flashes its myriad blinding rays +amidst her dark tresses, like a rainbow condensed into a star gleaming +through darkest night. + +The girl is alone. Everything around her is motionless. We seem to be in +an enchanted fairy palace. Nowhere a sound, a movement. + +Who would ever have thought of finding such a magic chamber in the +bowels of the earth, six hundred feet within the solid rock, on the +surface of which the storm is worrying the hardy shrubs and trees? + +It is the crypt of the Devil's Garden, and the woman, sylph or demon, +who inhabits it is Azrael. + +How can this woman live here so lonely, so far from everything human? + +And yet, why not? She is a whole world, a hell, to herself. Within the +resounding walls of the populous harem she felt herself lonely, and she +peoples this vast vault with the creations of her own wild fancy. Here +she shapes the future, forms endless plans, dreams of battles, of +intoxicating love, of more than earthly might, of new realms of which +she is the Queen, the Sun surrounded by her starry train. + +Suddenly a light trampling is heard overhead, as if some one were riding +over the vaulted roof. Azrael arises and listens. The sound of footsteps +is audible in the corridors, and presently three familiar, measured +knocks are heard at the doors. + +"'Tis he!" she whispers; springs from her couch, hastens to the door, +draws back the heavy bolts, tears the door violently open, and falls +into the arms of him who enters. + +"At last! at last!" she murmurs, twining her arms round the man's neck +and pressing her cheeks to his lips. + +The man is Denis Banfi. + +Sad, speechless, broken as he never was before, he does not even greet +the girl as he enters. He seems to freeze, all his limbs are trembling. +He has left his tiger-skin outside, but the drenching rain has soaked +him through and through. + +"Thou art wet to the skin," says the girl. "Quick! warm thyself. Thou +hast come from afar. Thou dost need repose," and dragging Banfi to her +couch, she took off his dolman, covered him with her own costly ermine +mantle, placed under his feet soft velvet cushions, which she first +warmed over the steaming censer, and pressing the man's frozen hands to +her throbbing bosom, warmed them there. + +Yet Banfi remained dumb. Misfortune seemed to be written on his +forehead. A far less practised eye, a far less penetrating genius than +Azrael's, could have seen at a glance that he was no longer the haughty +magnate he had been, but a fallen viceroy, whose fall was all the +greater because he had stood so high; who had come to her, not because +he had forsaken every one, but because every one had forsaken him; whom +not pleasure but despair had brought to this place. + +"I have been waiting for thee!" cried the girl, burying her head in +Banfi's bosom, while he played involuntarily with her rich tresses. "To +me thy absence is an eternity, thy presence but a fleeting moment." + +Not for all the world would Azrael have let Banfi perceive that she had +observed the change in him. She pushed a little round stool in front of +the couch, took up her mandolin, and began to sing with a voice of +thrilling sweetness one of those improvisations which the ardent +imagination of the East brings spontaneously to the lips, striking the +while with her fingers wild, fantastic chords. + +"If thou hast joy, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt have so much +the more. If thou hast grief, share it with thy beloved, and thou wilt +have so much the less." + +Banfi looked at the odalisk with beetling brows. + +But Azrael struck fresh chords and began another song-- + +"False is the world and all that is therein! Every day the sun forsakes +the sky. Every day the sea forsakes her shores. Every year the swallow +forsakes her nest. But the maiden who loves never forsakes her beloved." + +Still Banfi remained silent. There he sat with staring, bloodshot eyes, +his head resting on his elbows, like a poor, mortally-wounded lion. + +And again the odalisk sang-- + +"If choice were thine, which wouldst thou choose--love with hell, or +heaven without love?" + +Banfi stretched out his arms towards Azrael, and as the odalisk, casting +away her mandolin, bent down to kiss his hand, he drew her to his +breast, and the odalisk, softly stroking Banfi's forehead, said-- + +"What mean these wrinkles on thy noble brow, which I have never seen +there before? Vainly do I charm them away with my kisses; they come back +again and again. Wait!--I'll cover them with this diadem. So!--how well +a kingly crown becomes thy brow!" + +Banfi uttered an inarticulate cry, tore the diadem from his head, and +hurled it far away, while with the other hand he roughly repulsed the +girl. Every line of his face proclaimed his agony of mind. The odalisk +looked into his face and could read there everything which had happened. + +This passionate outburst, however, aroused Banfi from out of his dull +despondency. He sprang from the couch, resumed with an effort his usual +proud, devil-may-care look, and raising the girl into the air cried, +with bitter, scornful mirth-- + +"Bring me wine! To-day I'll make merry! Over our heads the storm is +howling--let it howl! We'll laugh at it, eh! my pretty wench? To-day is +ours! On this one day we'll heap together everything which can bring +bliss and mad delight, so as to leave nothing for the morrow. Wine and +kisses and music--and hell-fire!" + +The girl skipped away like a chamois, and came back like a Hebe with a +large silver salver covered with gold goblets. + +"No, not the golden pocals!" cried Banfi. "They won't break when we dash +them against the wall. Serve the wine in Venetian crystals." + +The odalisk obediently brought forth the gorgeously-coloured and gilded +Venetian glasses, then so much in vogue, and pushed a broad, +short-legged table close to the couch. + +"Come, embrace me!" cried Banfi, drawing the girl to his bosom, and +gazing into her abysmal black eyes. + +"My love is an endless sea," whispered the girl, her hands resting on +Banfi's shoulder. + +"My desire is as hell itself, which drinks to the very dregs!" cried +Banfi, embracing the odalisk and pressing a burning kiss on her lips, as +if he would have drunk in her very soul. + +With that he seized the first glass that came to hand; the wine sparkled +in the torch-light. Azrael's kisses had not yet softened his heart. With +bitter scorn he raised the glass, and cried-- + +"I drink to my friends." + +He drained it to the last drop, and hurled it contemptuously against +the wall, so that it was shivered to pieces. Immediately afterwards he +seized a second glass-- + +"I drink to my enemies." + +With a wild peal of laughter he hurled the second glass into the air. In +its flight it almost reached the ceiling, but it fell back again on the +couch and did not break. + +"See, it mocks me and will not break!" exclaimed Banfi, with sparkling +eyes. + +Azrael sprang up, seized the glass, and crushed it beneath her foot. + +In Banfi's heart the flames of three passions began to mingle--wrath, +intoxication, and frantic love. + +He raised the third glass to his lips, and while the girl held his body +fast embraced, Banfi exclaimed, with flushed face and strident voice-- + +"I drink to Transylvania." + +He drained the glass, but when he took it from his lips, the smile had +frozen on his face, and instead of dashing the glass against the wall, +he placed it gently on the table. A cold shudder ran through him at his +own words--"I drink to Transylvania." + +He did not remove his hand from the glass, and would shyly have put it +aside in a safe place, when the crystal, without any visible cause, +suddenly burst in pieces, filling the magnate's hand with a million +fragments. + +The diamond ring on his finger had scratched the glass, which, as all +badly-cooled crystals are wont to do, shivered instantly at the contact, +scattering its sparkling fragments in every direction like a Bologna +flask. + +Banfi shrank shuddering back at this phenomenon and hid his face in +Azrael's bosom, as if he had seen a portentous enchantment. + +The girl, however, impetuously seized her glass and cried exultantly-- + +"I drink to our love." + +Her voice broke the spell of Banfi's sobering horror and plunged him +into frenzied joy. He caught the slim, supple body of the odalisk in his +arms, and pressed her to him with the strength of a boa-constrictor: she +was almost stifled in his embrace. + +"I know not what you have given me to drink," stammered Banfi, "but I +have lost my head. I am beside myself for love." + +"Then take heed that thou dost not faint. Long hast thou let me +languish, and I swore that when next thou camest, to murder thee in thy +sleep, so that thou mightest never forsake me more." + +"Oh, do it, do it," whispered he, and drawing his dagger from his girdle +and stretching himself at full length upon the couch, he laid bare his +breast with one hand and gave the girl the dagger with the other. + +Azrael, with demoniacal ferocity, grasped the dagger by its beryl +handle, and threw herself like an armed Fury upon Banfi, who looked at +her with a frenzied smile as the sharp edge of the dagger grazed his +breast. Then the weapon fell from the hand of the odalisk, and the +madly-distended eyes and lips resumed their languishing smile. + +"Kill me rather than forsake me," stammered the girl, embracing Banfi. + +"We'll die together, eh?" + +"Yes, yes!" + +"Jest not, Azrael. I am ready to do what I say." + +"And I am ready to die," replied the girl. "Come, I'll show thee +something,"--and with that, drawing aside the carpet, she lifted up a +trap-door, beneath which was visible through the gloom a deeper, lower +room, supported by short, stout, arched columns, close beside which a +number of large barrels had been placed. + +"Yes," said Banfi, "I know. In that cellar I have hidden the gunpowder +which I saved after John Kemeny's fall." + +"Look at this long nitrous linstock," said Azrael, drawing up the end of +a thick cotton coil out of the cellar; "the barrels are connected with +it, and many a time when thou hast been with me have I had the end of +this lunt under the cushions of my couch, and held in my couch the torch +which was to have kindled it whilst thou wert sleeping with thy head +upon my breast, and I lay and listened calmly for the explosion which +was to send us both to heaven or to hell." + +"And you were afraid to do it?" + +"Not for myself. But I reflected that thou wert not thine own but thy +country's." + +"I belong to no one now." + +"Thy mind was so full of lofty plans. Destiny chose thee to be a Prince +among men, a hero among the kings of the earth whose name should fill +the pages of history." + +"All that is over now," cried Banfi, with drunken self-forgetfulness. +"I am nobody and nothing. The vault beneath this floor is all that +belongs to me. In the world without I am a fugitive and a vagabond." + +"Ha!" hissed Azrael. "Then thy enemies have triumphed over thee?" + +"My curse be upon their heads! I had compassion upon them, so I have +perished." + +"Is Csaky also among thy persecutors?" + +"Yes; he is my most pitiless pursuer." + +"And have all thy faithful friends deserted thee?" + +"The fallen has no faithful friends." + +"Thou mightst hire mercenaries and begin the struggle anew. Thou art +rich enough." + +"My wealth has gone." + +"Thou mightst beg for help from foreign lands." + +"That would be treason against my country. I have fallen and know what +awaits me. I must die. But my enemies shall not triumph at my death as +at a festival, or laugh aloud to see me go pale and downcast to my doom. +I will die alone." + +"By Allah, thou shalt not die alone! Come, let us fill our glasses. +Accursed be the world! we'll speak of it no more. Come, stifle thy soul +in the delirium of joy, and when thy drooping head sinks down upon my +breast, I will light the end of this lunt. Thou shalt dream of bliss, of +paradise, of kisses ravished and returned; the twofold throbbing of our +hearts shall beat the minutes; here below, the stillness of death; there +above, the howling of the tempest and of thy foes; and then an +earthquaking thunder, rending and scattering the rocks, shall proclaim +to heaven and hell that none shall ever find Denis Banfi here on earth +again!" + +"Azrael, thou art a devil, and I love thee!" cried Banfi, and he clasped +the girl in his arms as if she had been a little child. + + * * * * * + +An hour has passed, and the room has grown dark. The torches are +expiring. In the huge vaulted chamber no other light is visible but the +red vapour streaming from the orifices of the censer, which gleams like +a many-eyed monster, and the burning end of the linstock, lit by Banfi +in the midst of his mad orgy, crawling slowly along the room like a +fiery serpent. + +Naught is to be heard in the deep silence but the sighs of two lovers, +and the throbbing of two hearts. + +Banfi slept long. + +Suddenly he awoke. Pitch-black darkness surrounded him. It was some time +before his reeling brain could realize where he was, or why he was +there. He felt an icy wind streaming through the room, but it was only +after a long interval that he grasped the fact that a door was open +somewhere, and that the cold night air was rushing in from outside. + +Gradually the scenes of the by-gone night and the vows of death came +back to his mind, and he felt that he still lived. "The girl has +certainly repented of her wish to die," thought he, and he began to +grope about for her. The couch was empty. + +"Azrael! Azrael!" he cried repeatedly; but there was no answer. + +At last he tottered to his feet, and snatching some embers from the +hearth, lit a torch. The solitary, feeble light did not penetrate far, +but as far as it extended Azrael was nowhere to be seen. + +The first thing he perceived was the linstock cut in two by a pair of +shears. + +"Coward soul!" he growled, and, pierced through and through by the air, +would have put on his mantle, when a roll of parchment fell at his feet, +and picking it up he recognized Azrael's handwriting, and read as +follows-- + +"My lord, you read not hearts aright. We give our love for our own +sakes, but we do not give ourselves for love's sake. You have frittered +away your power, and, deserted by all the world, think to find me +faithful who loved your power and that only: I am his who has inherited +that power. He who is in the ascendant I adore, but I hate and despise +the fallen. Corsar Beg's fate should have warned you that one day you +too might fare like him ..." + +Banfi could not read it to the end. His face grew dark with shame. "To +sink so low as this! This wretched slavish soul even while embracing me +was devising treachery! And I to wish to spend my last moments in the +arms of such a monster----" At that moment he _loathed_ himself. + +"Cowardice and infamy! A man who has lived as I have lived, to desire +such a death! He who has always been wont to meet his foes face to face, +to hide himself from them in his last moments!--to hide himself in the +arms of a slave! Shame upon him! + +"This lesson has done me good. It was meet that I who could forget a +wife who sacrificed herself to deliver me out of the hands of my +enemies, should fall into the power of a harlot who would have betrayed +me to them. Yet even now it is not too late. My life is forfeit, but at +least I can save my honour. None shall be able to boast that he has +betrayed me. My enemies shall never say that I hid myself from them and +they found me out. I'll appear before them boldly, as I ought to have +done at first." + +Full of this resolution, Banfi went straightway into the secret +courtyard, where he had left his horse. He was surprised to find it no +longer there. The odalisk had taken it away with her. + +He smiled disdainfully. + +"What matters it, so long as she has not stolen me also." + +He returned into the rocky chamber, rekindled the lunt, came out, and +closing the iron door behind him made his way along the banks of the +cold Szamos. + +Towards midday he sat down on the bank to rest, and he had scarcely been +there a quarter of an hour, when he heard the trampling of horses, and +looking up--the bushes completely concealed him--beheld Ladislaus Csaky +and Azrael on horseback, side by side, at the head of an armed band. The +girl seemed to be pointing out something to Csaky on the rocks above, +and the worthy gentleman was beside himself for joy. + +Banfi smiled scornfully. + +"Poor Tartars!" + +As soon as the band had passed by, Banfi continued his journey. He had +not gone far when he came upon a poor peasant cleaving wood. + +"Dost know whither that armed band has gone?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir. They have gone to capture Denis Banfi, on whose head a great +price has been set." + +"How much?" + +"If a noble capture him he will receive an estate, if a peasant, two +hundred ducats." + +"Little enough, but enough for you, I dare say. I am Denis Banfi." + +The peasant took off his cap. + +"Does my lord wish to be led anywhither?" + +"Lead me to the place where they will pay you two hundred ducats." + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour afterwards a tremendous explosion resounded +through the mountains, which shook the earth for half-a-mile around. The +enchanted garden of the Gradina Dracului had collapsed into an +inaccessible chaos. + +Csaky had fortunately lingered on the road, or he and his company would +have perished utterly. + +On returning, he found Banfi already under arrest, and was thus deprived +of the glory of having captured his foe with his own hand. He +immediately hastened to accost him, and, with exquisite malice, brought +with him the odalisk, who looked at Banfi as if she had never seen him +before. + +Banfi, however, since his voluntary surrender, had quite resumed his +former sangfroid, and looking contemptuously over his shoulder at Csaky, +said-- + +"So your Excellency means in future to wear my cast-off clothes, eh?" + +At this bitter jest Azrael hissed like a snake upon whose tail one has +suddenly trodden, whilst Csaky blushed up to his ears and tried hard to +smile. + +"Does your Excellency desire any favour from me?" asked Csaky presently, +with insulting commiseration. + +"None from _your_ Excellency. I came here of my own free will, and have +been arrested I know not why. My wife, therefore, can now be set free." + +"So at last we begin to whine for our wife, eh?" + +"On the contrary. So far from wishing to meet her, I desire that as soon +as I am put in prison she should be let go." + +"It shall be as you desire, my lord!" replied Csaky, with ironical +benevolence. + +Banfi requited him with a look of the most withering contempt, and +turning to the jailers entered into conversation with them: the magnates +he no longer regarded. + + * * * * * + +When Teleki heard of the capture of Banfi, he ordered him to be sent at +once to Bethlen Castle, to make the world believe that the anti-Banfi +faction was headed, not by him, but by Beldi, to whom the castle +belonged. + +On his way thither, the captive magnate learnt that his consort had +already been released, and thus relieved of his one remaining anxiety, +cared little for the rest. + +On reaching Bethlen Castle he was received by the Rev. Stephen Pataky, +Rector of Klausenburg, to whom he cried jocosely-- + +"So they've appointed you my father confessor, eh?" + +Pataky wept bitterly, but Banfi only smiled. + +The jailer conducted Banfi up the steps with every demonstration of +respect. + +Banfi turned round to him. + +"I hope you will let Reverend Master Pataky remain with me all the +time?" said he. + +Pataky was understood to say through his sobs-- + +"Truly your Excellency will find far better company awaiting you than +any my poor self can offer." + +Banfi, not knowing what to say to this, only shrugged his shoulders and +hastened towards the door of his prison, but remained standing on the +threshold transfixed with astonishment. In the room was a lady in deep +mourning, who turned very pale on perceiving him, and clung to the table +unable to utter a word. + +Banfi felt all his blood rush to his heart. The next moment he darted +impetuously forward and cried-- + +"My wife! Margaret!" + +The lady threw herself upon her husband's breast and sobbed aloud. + +"What! have they not released you?" inquired Banfi anxiously. + +"I would not be released," answered Margaret. "How _could_ I forsake you +in your prison?" + +The tears came to Banfi's eyes. Speechless he sank to the ground, and +covered her hands with glowing kisses. + +"While we were what the world calls happy we might avoid each other," +said Margaret, with a choking voice, "but misfortune has brought us +together again," and she bowed her head to kiss her husband's forehead. + +Banfi fell senseless at her feet. It was more than even his strong soul +could bear. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE SENTENCE. + + +The Diet, hastily summoned to Fehervar, strongly disapproved of the +secret proceedings against Banfi. Paul Beldi was the first to declare +that even if Banfi could be arrested by means of a league, a Diet was +the only tribunal which could try him, and insisted that he should have +every opportunity of defending himself. + +The Prince came to the Diet with red eyes, an aching head, and a very +irritable temper--the usual witnesses of a drunken debauch. + +Teleki, finding the Diet beyond his control, got Apafi to dissolve it, +by persuading him that if Banfi were brought before it he would escape +altogether, and even turn the two-edged sword of justice against the +Prince himself. + +In the Privy Council itself, Kozma Horvath's opposition to the +extra-judicial prosecution was all in vain. The league drew up +thirty-seven articles of accusation against Banfi, and the magnate was +impeached. + +Most of these articles were so utterly frivolous as to need no reply. +Banfi's real offence was his pretension to the throne, and this they +dared not bring forward at all. + +Banfi manfully replied on every count. In vain. Defend himself as he +might, his adversaries knew only too well how much they had offended +him: they could not afford to let him live. + +The matter came to the vote. + +Banfi was condemned to death. + +On the day when this took place, no one could get at the Prince except +the members of the league, who were constantly going in and out of +Apafi's apartments with hasty steps and eager faces. + +Towards evening they succeeded in bringing the besotted Prince to sign +the sentence. It was no longer possible to recognize in the +spectre-haunted drunkard the mild and gentle Prince, who had had a tear +for the sorrows of the meanest of his servants. + +Saddled horses and long rows of carriages had been standing before the +castle gates since midday. Suddenly Ladislaus Csaky came very hastily +out of the castle with a document hidden in the folds of his pelisse, +and calling for his horse, mounted, nodded significantly to the other +gentlemen who had followed him out, and galloped away. The other +gentlemen thereupon leapt into their carriages, or on to their horses, +with as much expedition as if some one was pursuing them, and exchanging +hurried whispers, decamped so swiftly that in a few moments the Prince +was left entirely alone. + +Teleki was the last who quitted him. The Prince accompanied the minister +to the very end of the ante-chamber. Black care was written in his face. +He would hardly let Teleki go. + +Teleki coldly withdrew his hand from the Prince's grasp. + +"You have no need to brood over it, sir. It is not a question of the +life of a man, but of the welfare of a state. If my own neck had stood +in the way, I would have said, Hew it off! I say the same when it is +another's." + +With that he took his leave. + +Apafi could not remain in his room. He was obliged to go out into the +fresh open air. Inside something seemed to choke him, the air was so +oppressive--or was it his own conscience? He went into the garden. The +cool night air soothed his throbbing head; the sight of the starry +heaven did good to his darkened soul. Leaning over the balcony, he +looked amazedly out into the quiet night, as if he expected a star +larger than all the rest to fall from heaven, or some one miles and +miles away to call him by name. + +Suddenly a scream fell on his ear. + +He looked around with a shudder, and terror made him speechless--before +him stood his consort, whom his counsellors had kept away from him for +weeks. + +The moment the last magnate had departed, her own faithful servants told +her that the Prince had signed the death-warrant, and the terrified +woman, breaking through the castle guards, rushed after Apafi, found him +in the garden, seized him roughly, and shrieking rather than speaking in +her agitation, exclaimed-- + +"Oh, accursed, accursed wretch! Thou hast shed innocent blood!" + +Apafi tried to avoid his wife. He feared her. + +"What do you want with me?" he asked in a hollow voice. "What do you +mean?" + +"You have signed Banfi's death-warrant." + +"I!" cried Apafi feebly, trying to catch hold of his wife's hand. + +"Away with that hand, monster! It is stained with my kinsman's blood." + +"Then you don't consent to it?" stammered the abject creature. "Neither +did I, but the magnates constrained me." + +The Princess smote her hands together, and looked at her consort +despairingly. + +"You have brought blood on our family! You have brought a curse on the +land and on me! Oh, why did I not let you perish in the hands of the +Tartars? Where you are concerned virtue itself becomes a sin." + +Apafi was crushed. Alone with his wife, he was something less than a +man. + +"I did not wish to kill him," he blurted out, "nor do I now; and if you +wish it, I'll reprieve him. Here, take my signet-ring. Send a horseman +after Csaky to Bethlen Castle. Reprieve your cousin and leave me in +peace." + +"What ho, there! Who is without?" shrieked the Princess. + +The domestic servants came pouring in, headed by the pantler. + +"Take four of the Prince's swiftest horses with you," cried Anna, as she +wrote out the pardon with her own hand and made her husband sign and +seal it. "Take this letter and hasten to Bethlen Castle. If one of the +horses falls under you, take the others. Stop not an instant on the +road! A man's life is in your hands!" + +The grooms led forward the swift horses; the pantler swung himself into +the saddle, and, leading the other three horses by the bridles, galloped +away. + +The Princess impatiently followed him with her eyes till he was out of +sight, and then went up to her room again; but unable to rest there +long, she came down once more, sent for her faithful old servant Andrew, +and giving him an old piece of green velvet,[56] set him on horseback +and sent him after the pantler. + + [Footnote 56: Green velvet was the symbol of the + princely dignity in Transylvania.] + +"If the Prince's reprieve arrives too late, this will be a cere-cloth +wherein to wrap the murdered man." + + * * * * * + +The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Paul Beldi called his +chief groom, bade him mount his swiftest horse, ride to Bethlen Castle, +and inform the castellan there that he would cut his head off if the +slightest harm happened to Banfi at Bethlen. He too dared not face his +wife at that moment. + + * * * * * + +The same hour, perhaps at the self-same moment, Michael Teleki pressed +the hand of his future son-in-law Toekoeli, and whispered in his ear, "We +are a step nearer." And beneath the pressure of the youth's iron hand, +the engagement ring which knitted him to Teleki's daughter snapped in +two, and Teleki took it as an omen[57] that, one day, the hand of this +youth would be stronger than his own. + + [Footnote 57: The omen was justified when, nearly + thirty years later, Toekoeli defeated and slew Teleki at + the battle of Zernyes, 1691.] + + * * * * * + +That night all Transylvania was greatly disturbed. Farkas Bethlen could +not sleep in his bed all night. Stephen Apor was so unwell that he had +to send for his confessor, and Kornis lost himself so completely on his +way home that he was forced to sleep in his carriage. + +And what was going on in heaven? Towards midnight a storm arose, the +like of which the oldest men could not call to mind. The lightning set +forests and castles on fire; the falling clouds drove the rivers out of +their beds. The alarm bells resounded everywhere. God sat in judgment +over the land that night. The whole population was sleepless. + + * * * * * + +Only the reconciled consorts slept calmly. + +With one arm under her husband's head and the other embracing him, the +pale and fragile lady fell asleep. At times she wept in her dreams, and +her tears fell on the pillow. She was dreaming of her happy bridal days, +and of that sweet moment when she had laid her first and only child in +her husband's arms, and she pressed him more closely to her, while he +lay sleeping there so calmly, at enmity with the world, but reconciled +to himself and to the better-half of his soul. Happiness, which had fled +him in his palace, sought him out in his dungeon. + +The night lamp cast its pale rays on the sleeping forms. + + * * * * * + +Through that terrible night, four horsemen, scarcely a thousand paces +apart, are galloping at full speed towards Bethlen Castle. During the +lightning flashes they sometimes catch a glimpse of each other, and then +each of them digs his spurs more deeply into his horse's sides. + +The first horseman reaches the castle gate and winds the signal horn. +The drawbridge sinks groaning down; the horseman springs into the +courtyard and places a letter in the hands of the flurried castellan. It +is Paul Beldi's messenger. + +The horseman who next arrives at the castle orders the gates to be +opened in the name of the Prince. He hands the castellan a second +letter. It is Ladislaus Csaky. + +The castellan grows pale as he reads this letter. + +"My lord," says he, "I have just received a message from Paul Beldi, +threatening us with death in case any harm befalls the prisoner." + +"You have your choice," answered Csaky. "If you obey me, Beldi may +perhaps cut off your head to-morrow; but if you don't obey me, I'll cut +off your head myself this instant." + +The trembling castellan bowed submission. + +"Up with the drawbridge!" commanded Csaky. "None must enter this castle +without my permission. Whoever acts against my orders is a dead man!" + + * * * * * + +The spouses lay tranquilly sleeping in each other's arms. A minute later +the door creaked on its hinges, and the Rev. Stephen Pataky, tearful and +terrified, entered the dungeon. His heart died within him when he saw +the consorts sleeping so calmly side by side. + +He stepped up to Banfi to rouse him. As he touched his hand, Banfi +awoke, and perceiving Pataky, who could not speak for emotion, tried to +disengage his head from his wife's encircling arm without awakening her. +At that very moment Lady Banfi opened her eyes. Pataky, wishing to +conceal the fatal message from her, addressed Banfi in the Latin +tongue-- + +"_Surge Domine! sententia lethalis adest!_"[58] + + [Footnote 58: Arise, sir, the death-warrant has come!] + +Lady Banfi, terrified by these mysterious words, the meaning of which +Pataky's face so ill concealed, asked in mortal fear what was the +matter. + +"Nothing, my darling! nothing!" said Banfi, embracing her with a tender +smile. "A pressing message which I must attend to at once. I'll be back +again soon! Lie down and sleep gently!" + +With these words he persuaded his wife to fall back upon her pillow, +kissed her repeatedly with great tenderness, and soothed her caressingly +between each kiss--"My soul! my delight! my love! my heaven!" + +The wife little suspected that this was the parting kiss of a man about +to meet his doom; Banfi looked at her so smilingly, feigning a joyful +countenance as he stood on the threshold of death. + +Then the castle horn again sounded. The Princess's first messenger had +arrived, and demanded admittance in her Highness's name. + +Csaky rushed hastily up-stairs, and just as Banfi, after half reassuring +his consort, was about to quit her, suddenly burst open the door, and +cried-- + +"Why so long a leave-taking? Get ready! The sentence stays for +execution!" + +Lady Banfi with a piercing scream rose from her couch, and stretching +out both her arms towards Banfi, gazed speechlessly at him for a moment, +then, clutching at her heart, fell back dead upon her pillow with +wide-open eyes. + +Banfi looked at his enemy with the bitterness of death, his streaming +eyes hurled more curses at him than any lip could have uttered. + +"Base, cowardly wretch!" he moaned, "was it then part of your mandate to +murder my wife also?" + +Csaky turned his head away, and said in a hoarse voice-- + +"Hasten! the time is short!" + +"Short for me, but it shall be long for you! For a time is coming when +you will curse the day of your birth, and will not be able to die as +calmly as I do!--Leave me!--I would fain pray; but I cannot call upon my +God while you are nigh!" + +Csaky, overcome despite himself, quitted the room. + +Banfi laid his hand on his forehead and prayed. + +Outside the heavens were thundering. + +"O God! who dost thunder on high, take my blood as a sacrifice for my +sins, but let not a drop of it fall on the heads of those who shed it! +Suffer not my native land to pay the price of my blood! Guard this poor +land from every ill! Visit not this people in Thy anger, but be their +refuge and their sure defence in the evil day! Forgive my enemies my +death, as I forgive them!" + +The thunder roared terribly. God was wroth that day. He would not +hearken to such a prayer. + +"Is your Excellency ready?" inquired Csaky impatiently, whilst the +Princess's messengers hammered furiously at the gates, and demanded +instant admission. + +Banfi stepped up to his lifeless consort and kissed her cold, pale face +for the last time; then, turning calmly to Csaky, he said-- + +"Yes; I am ready now!" + + * * * * * + +A quarter of an hour later Csaky admitted the messengers. + +"What do you bring?" he asked the pantler. + +"The Prince's pardon for the prisoner." + +"You are too late!--And you?" + +"A cere-cloth for the corpse!" + +"You have brought it very opportunely." + +The highest head of the Transylvanian nobility had already fallen in the +dust. + + * * * * * + +The tragedy ends with the hero's death. + +The tide of history brings other shapes and other leaders to the +surface. The fate, the fashion, and the history of Transylvania are no +longer the same.[59] The sword-stroke which slew Banfi cut short an +epoch only half begun. The body of that dominating form reposes in the +crypt of the church at Bethlen, and no one has inherited his spirit. + + [Footnote 59: The subsequent fortunes of Apafi, Csaky, + Teleki, Toekoeli, Azrael, and Feriz are related in + Jokai's second historical novel, _Toeroekvilag + Magyarorzagban_ (_The Turks in Hungary_), which is a + sequel to the present story, and ends with the collapse + of the Turkish power in Hungary.] + +But the chronicles say that whenever danger threatens Transylvania, the +blood of the buried patriot flows from his simple tomb, a terror to the +people, and a wonder to the world. + + +THE END. + + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, +LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + + +11, HENRIETTA STREET, W.C., +_May, 1894._ + +BOOKS +PUBLISHED BY +CHAPMAN & HALL, LD. +(A SELECTION.) + + +=Adams (Henry), M.I.C.E., etc.= + +=BUILDING CONSTRUCTION.= Key to Examinations of Science and Art +Department. 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Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Holmes (George C. V.).= + +NAVAL ARCHITECTURE AND SHIP BUILDING. [_In the Press._ + +MARINE ENGINES AND BOILERS. With 69 Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 3s. + + +=Houssaye (Arsene).= + +BEHIND THE SCENES OF THE COMEDIE FRANCAISE, AND OTHER RECOLLECTIONS. +Translated from the French. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Hovelacque (Abel).= + +THE SCIENCE OF LANGUAGE: LINGUISTICS, PHILOLOGY, AND ETYMOLOGY. With +Maps. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Hozier (H. M).= + +TURENNE. With Portrait and Two Maps. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Hudson (W. H.), C.M.Z.= + +BIRDS IN A VILLAGE. Square crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + +IDLE DAYS IN PATAGONIA. With numerous Illustrations by J. SMIT and A. +HARTLEY. Demy 8vo, 14s. + +THE NATURALIST IN LA PLATA. With numerous Illustrations by J. SMIT. +Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 16s. + + +=Hueffer (F.).= + +HALF A CENTURY OF MUSIC IN ENGLAND. 1837-1887. Demy 8vo, 8s. + + +=Hughes (W. R.), F.L.S.= + +A WEEK'S TRAMP IN DICKENSLAND. With upwards of 100 Illustrations by +F. G. KITTON, HERBERT RAILTON, and others. Second and Cheaper Edition. +Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Hutchinson (Rev. H. N.).= + +CREATURES OF OTHER DAYS. With Illustrations by J. Smit and others. [_In +the Press._ + +EXTINCT MONSTERS. A popular Account of some of the larger forms of +Ancient Animal Life. With numerous Illustrations by J. SMIT and others, +and a Preface by DR. HENRY WOODWARD, F.R.S. Third Thousand, revised and +enlarged. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +INDUSTRIAL ARTS: Historical Sketches. With numerous Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 3s. + + +=Jackson (Frank G.).= + +DECORATIVE DESIGN. An Elementary Text Book of Principles and Practice. +With numerous Illustrations. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=James (Henry A.), M.A.= + +HANDBOOK TO PERSPECTIVE. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + +PERSPECTIVE CHARTS, for use in Class Teaching. 2s. + + +=Jokai (Maurus).= + +PRETTY MICHAL. Translated by R. NISBET BAIN. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Jones.= + +HANDBOOK OF THE JONES COLLECTION IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. With +Portrait and Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. + + +=Jopling (Louise).= + +HINTS TO AMATEURS. A Handbook on Art With Diagrams. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d. + + +=Junker (Dr. Wm.).= + +TRAVELS IN AFRICA. Translated from the German by Professor A. H. KEANE, +F.R.G.S. 1875-1886. Profusely Illustrated. 3 vols. Demy 8vo. 21s. each. + + +=Kelly (James Fitzmaurice).= + +THE LIFE OF MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA: A Biographical, Literary, and +Historical Study, with a Tentative Bibliography from 1585 to 1892, and +an Annotated Appendix on the "Canto de Caliope." Demy 8vo, 16s. + + +=Kempt (Robert).= + +CONVIVIAL CALEDONIA: Inns and Taverns of Scotland, and some Famous +People who have frequented them. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Kennard (H. Martyn).= + +PHILISTINES AND ISRAELITES: A New Light on the World's History. Demy +4to, 6s. + + +=Lacordaire (Pere).= + +JESUS CHRIST; GOD; and GOD AND MAN. Conferences delivered at Notre Dame, +in Paris. Seventh Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Laing (S.).= + +HUMAN ORIGINS: EVIDENCE FROM HISTORY AND SCIENCE. With Illustrations. +Twelfth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE AND ESSAYS. Thirteenth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. +6d. + +MODERN SCIENCE AND MODERN THOUGHT. Nineteenth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. +6d. + +A MODERN ZOROASTRIAN. Eighth Thousand. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Lanin (E. B.).= + +RUSSIAN CHARACTERISTICS. Reprinted, with Revisions, from _The +Fortnightly Review_. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Le Conte (Joseph).= + +EVOLUTION: ITS NATURE, ITS EVIDENCES, AND ITS RELATIONS TO RELIGIOUS +THOUGHT. A New and Revised Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Lefevre (Andre).= + +PHILOSOPHY, Historical and Critical Translated, with an Introduction, by +A. H. KEANE, B.A. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Leroy-Beaulieu (Anatole)=, _Member of the Institute of France_. + +PAPACY, SOCIALISM, AND DEMOCRACY. Translated by B. L. O'DONNELL. Crown. +8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Leslie (R. C).= + +THE SEA BOAT: HOW TO BUILD, RIG, AND SAIL HER. With Illustrations. Crown +8vo, 4s. 6d. + +LIFE ABOARD A BRITISH PRIVATEER IN THE TIME OF QUEEN ANNE. Being the +Journals of Captain Woodes Rogers, Master Mariner. New and cheaper +Edition. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +A SEA-PAINTER'S LOG. With 12 Full-page Illustrations by the Author. +Large crown 8vo, 12s. + + +=Letourneau (Dr. Charles).= + +SOCIOLOGY. Based upon Ethnology. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +BIOLOGY. With 83 Illustrations. A New Edition. Demy 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Lilly (W. S.).= + +THE CLAIMS OF CHRISTIANITY. Demy 8vo. + +ON SHIBBOLETHS. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +ON RIGHT AND WRONG. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +A CENTURY OF REVOLUTION. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s. + +CHAPTERS ON EUROPEAN HISTORY. 2 vols. Demy 8vo, 21s. + +ANCIENT RELIGION AND MODERN THOUGHT. Second Edition. Demy 8vo, 12s. + + +=Lineham (W. J.).= + +TEXT BOOK OF MECHANICAL ENGINEERING. With numerous Illustrations. Crown +8vo. [_In the Press._ + + +=Lineham (Mrs. Ray S.).= + +THE STREET OF HUMAN HABITATIONS. Fully Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Little (The Rev. Canon Knox).= + +THE WAIF FROM THE WAVES: a Story of Three Lives, touching this World and +another. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + +THE CHILD OF STAFFERTON. Twelfth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in +cloth, 1s. 6d. + +THE BROKEN VOW. Seventeenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, boards, 1s.; in cloth, +1s. 6d. + + +=Lloyd (W. W.)=, _late 24th Regiment_. + +ON ACTIVE SERVICE. Printed in Colours. Oblong 4to, 5s. + +SKETCHES OF INDIAN LIFE. Printed in Colours. 4to, 6s. + + +=McDermott (P. L.)=, _Assistant Secretary_. + +BRITISH EAST AFRICA: A History of the Formation and Work of the Imperial +British East Africa Company. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Macdonald (F. A.).= + +OUR OCEAN RAILWAYS; or, the Rise, Progress, and Development of Ocean +Steam Navigation, etc, etc. With Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Malleson (Col. G. B.), C.S.I.= + +THE LIFE OF WARREN HASTINGS. [_In the Press._ + +PRINCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 6s. + +LOUDON. A Sketch of the Military Life of Gideon Ernest, Freiherr von +Loudon. With Portrait and Maps. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Mallock (W. H.).= + +A HUMAN DOCUMENT. One Volume. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Marceau (Sergent).= + +REMINISCENCES OF A REGICIDE. Edited from the Original MSS. of SERGENT +MARCEAU, Member of the Convention, and Administrator of Police in the +French Revolution of 1789. By M. C. M. SIMPSON. With Illustrations and +Portraits. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Maskell (Alfred).= + +RUSSIAN ART AND ART OBJECTS IN RUSSIA. A Handbook to the Reproduction of +Goldsmith's Work and Other Art Treasures. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + + +=Maskell (William).= + +IVORIES: ANCIENT AND MEDIAEVAL. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +HANDBOOK TO THE DYCE AND FORSTER COLLECTIONS. With Illustrations. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Maspero (G.)=, _late Director of Archaeology in Egypt_. + +LIFE IN ANCIENT EGYPT AND ASSYRIA. Translated by A. P. Morton. With 188 +Illustrations. Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Meredith (George).= + +(_For List of Works see page 16._) + + +=Mills (John)=, _formerly Assistant to the Solar Physics Committee_. + +ADVANCED PHYSIOGRAPHY (PHYSIOGRAPHIC ASTRONOMY). Designed to meet the +Requirements of Students preparing for the Elementary and Advanced +Stages of Physiography in the Science and Art Department Examinations, +and as an Introduction to Physical Astronomy. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + +ELEMENTARY PHYSIOGRAPHIC ASTRONOMY. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + +ALTERNATIVE ELEMENTARY PHYSICS. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d. + + +=Mills (John) and North (Barker).= + +QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS (INTRODUCTORY LESSONS ON). With numerous Woodcuts. +Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d. + +HANDBOOK OF QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Mitre (General Don Bartolome)=, _first Constitutional President of the +Argentine Republic_. + +THE EMANCIPATION OF SOUTH AMERICA. Being a Condensed Translation, by +WILLIAM PILLING, of "The History of San Martin." With Maps. Demy 8vo, +12s. + + +=Molesworth (W. Nassau).= + +HISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE YEAR 1830 TO THE RESIGNATION OF THE +GLADSTONE MINISTRY, 1874. Twelfth Thousand. 3 vols. Crown 8vo, 18s. + +ABRIDGED EDITION. Large crown, 7s. 6d. + + +=N'Zau (Bula).= + +CONGO FREE STATE AND ITS BIG GAME SHOOTING, TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES. +Illustrated from the Author's sketches. Demy 8vo. [_In the Press._ + + +=Nesbitt (Alexander).= + +GLASS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=O'Byrne (Robert), F.R.G.S.= + +THE VICTORIES OF THE BRITISH ARMY IN THE PENINSULA AND THE SOUTH OF +FRANCE from 1808 to 1814. An Epitome of Napier's History of the +Peninsular War, and Gurwood's Collection of the Duke of Wellington's +Despatches. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Oliver (Professor D.), LL.D., F.L.S., F.R.S.= + +ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL NATURAL ORDERS OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM, +prepared for the Science and Art Department of Council of Education. +With 109 Coloured Plates by W. H. FITCH, F.L.S. New Edition. Royal 8vo, +16s. + + +=Oliver (E. E.)=, _Under-Secretary to the Public Works Department, +Punjaub_. + +ACROSS THE BORDER; or, PATHAN AND BILOCH. With numerous Illustrations by +J. L. KIPLING, C.I.E. Demy 8vo, 14s. + + +=Papus.= + +THE TAROT OF the BOHEMIANS. The most ancient book in the world. For the +exclusive use of the Initiates. An Absolute Key to Occult Science. With +numerous Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Paske (Surgeon-General C. T.) and Aflalo (F. G.).= + +THE SEA AND THE ROD. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + + +=Paterson (Arthur).= + +A PARTNER FROM WEST. A Novel. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Payton (E. W.).= + +ROUND ABOUT NEW ZEALAND. Being Notes from a Journal of Three Years' +Wandering in the Antipodes. With Twenty Original Illustrations by the +Author. Large crown 8vo, 12s. + + +=Pierce (Gilbert).= + +THE DICKENS DICTIONARY. A Key to the Characters and Principal Incidents +in the Tales of Charles Dickens. New Edition, uniform with the "Crown" +Edition of Dickens's Works. Large crown, 5s. + + +=Perrot (Georges) and Chipiez (Chas.).= + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN GREECE. With about 500 Illustrations, 2 +vols. [_In the Press._ + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PERSIA. With 254 Illustrations and 12 Steel +and Coloured Plates. Imperial 8vo, 21s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHRYGIA--LYDIA, CARIA, and LYCIA. With 280 +Illustrations. Imperial 8vo, 15s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN SARDINIA, JUDAEA, SYRIA, AND ASIA MINOR. With +395 Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 36s. + +A HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART IN PHOENICIA AND ITS DEPENDENCIES. With 654 +Illustrations. 2 vols. Imperial 8vo, 42s. + +A HISTORY OF ART IN CHALDAEA AND ASSYRIA. With 452 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s. + +A HISTORY OF ART IN ANCIENT EGYPT. With 600 Illustrations. 2 vols. +Imperial 8vo, 42s. + + +=Pollen (J. H.).= + +GOLD AND SILVER SMITH'S WORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +ANCIENT AND MODERN FURNITURE AND WOODWORK. With numerous Woodcuts. Large +crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Pollok (Colonel)=, _Author of "Sport in British Burma_." + +INCIDENTS OF FOREIGN SPORT AND TRAVEL. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo. +[_In the Press._ + + +=Poole (Stanley Lane), B.A., M.R.A.S.= + +THE ART OF THE SARACENS IN EGYPT. Published for the Committee of Council +on Education. With 108 Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Poynter (E. J.), R.A.= + +TEN LECTURES ON ART. Third Edition. Large crown 8vo, 9s. + + +=Pratt (Robert).= + +SCIOGRAPHY, OR PARALLEL AND RADIAL PROJECTION OF SHADOWS. Being a Course +of Exercises for the use of Students in Architectural and Engineering +Drawing, and for Candidates preparing for the Examinations in this +subject and in Third Grade Perspective. Oblong quarto, 7s. 6d. + + +=Pushkin (A. S.).= + +QUEEN OF SPADES, THE, and OTHER STORIES. With a Biography. Translated +from the Russian by MRS. SUTHERLAND EDWARDS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d. + + +=Rae (W. Fraser).= + +AUSTRIAN HEALTH RESORTS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. A New and Enlarged Edition. +Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=RAPHAEL=; his Life, Works, and Times. By EUGENE MUNTZ. Illustrated with +about 200 Engravings. A New Edition, revised from the Second French +Edition. By W. ARMSTRONG, B.A. Imperial 8vo, 25s. + + +=Redgrave (Gilbert).= + +OUTLINES OF HISTORIC ORNAMENT. Translated from the German. Edited by +GILBERT REDGRAVE. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 4s. + + +=Redgrave (Richard), R.A.= + +MANUAL OF DESIGN. With Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + +ELEMENTARY MANUAL OF COLOUR, with a Catechism on Colour. 24mo, cloth, +9d. + + +=Redgrave (Samuel).= + +A DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF THE HISTORICAL COLLECTION OF WATER-COLOUR +PAINTINGS IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. With numerous +Chromo-lithographs and other Illustrations. Royal 8vo, L1 1s. + + +=Renan (Ernest).= + +THE FUTURE OF SCIENCE: Ideas of 1848. Demy 8vo, 18s. + +HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL. + +FIRST DIVISION. Till the time of King David. Demy 8vo, 14s. + +SECOND DIVISION. From the Reign of David up to the Capture of Samaria. +Demy 8vo, 14s. + +THIRD DIVISION. From the time of Hezekiah till the Return from Babylon. +Demy 8vo, 14s. + +RECOLLECTIONS OF MY YOUTH. Translated from the French, and revised by +MADAME RENAN. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Riano (Juan F.).= + +THE INDUSTRIAL ARTS IN SPAIN. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, +4s. + + +=Roberts (Morley).= + +IN LOW RELIEF: A Bohemian Transcript. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. +6d.; in boards, 2s. + + +=Robson (George).= + +ELEMENTARY BUILDING CONSTRUCTION. Illustrated by a Design for an +Entrance Lodge and Gate. 15 Plates. Oblong folio, sewed, 8s. + + +=Rock (The Very Rev. Canon), D.D.= + +TEXTILE FABRICS. With numerous Woodcuts. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. + + +=Roosevelt (Blanche).= + +ELIZABETH OF ROUMANIA. A Study. With Two Tales from the German of Carmen +Sylva, Her Majesty Queen of Roumania. With Two Portraits and +Illustration. Demy 8vo, 12s. + + +=Ross (Mrs. Janet).= + +EARLY DAYS RECALLED. With Illustrations and Portrait. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Russan (Ashmore) and Boyle (Fredk.).= + +THE ORCHID SEEKERS: a Story of Adventure in Borneo. Illustrated by +ALFRED HARTLEY. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Russell (W. Clark)=, _and other Writers_. + +MISS PARSON'S ADVENTURE, and OTHER STORIES by W. E. NORRIS, JULIAN +HAWTHORNE, MRS. L. B. WALFORD, J. M. BARRIE, F. C. PHILIPS, MRS. +ALEXANDER, and WILLIAM WESTALL. With 16 Illustrations. 1 vol. Crown 8vo, +5s. + + +=Ryan (Charles)=, _Late Head Master of the Ventnor School of Art_. + +EGYPTIAN ART. An Elementary Handbook for the use of Students. With 56 +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. + + +=Schauermann (F. L.).= + +WOOD-CARVING IN PRACTICE AND THEORY, AS APPLIED TO HOME ARTS. Containing +124 Illustrations. Second Edition. Large crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Seeman (O.).= + +THE MYTHOLOGY OF GREECE AND ROME, with Special Reference to its Use in +Art. From the German. Edited by G. H. BIANCHI. 64 Illustrations. New +Edition. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Seton Karr (H. W.), F.R.G.S., etc.= + +BEAR HUNTING IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS; or, Alaska and British Columbia +Revisited. Illustrated. Large crown, 4s. 6d. + +TEN YEARS' TRAVEL AND SPORT IN FOREIGN LANDS; or, Travels in the +Eighties. Second Edition, with additions and Portrait of Author. 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With Portrait. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. + + +=Statham (H. H.).= + +FORM AND DESIGN IN MUSIC: A brief Outline of the AEsthetic Conditions of +the Art; addressed to General Readers. With Musical Examples. Demy 8vo, +2s. 6d. + +MY THOUGHTS ON MUSIC AND MUSICIANS. Illustrated with Frontispiece and +Musical Examples. Demy 8vo, 18s. + + +=Stoddard (C. A.).= + +SPANISH CITIES: with Glimpses of Gibraltar and Tangiers. With 18 +Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + +ACROSS RUSSIA FROM THE BALTIC TO THE DANUBE. With numerous +Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. + + +=Stokes (Margaret).= + +EARLY CHRISTIAN ART IN IRELAND. With 106 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo, 4s. + +=STORIES FROM "BLACK AND WHITE."= By THOMAS HARDY, J. M. BARRIE, W. CLARK +RUSSELL, W. E. NORRIS, JAMES PAYN, GRANT ALLEN, MRS. LYNN LINTON, and +MRS. OLIPHANT. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 5s. + + +=Sutcliffe (John).= + +THE SCULPTOR AND ART STUDENT'S GUIDE to the Proportions of the Human +Form, with Measurements in feet and inches of full-grown Figures of both +Sexes, and of various Ages. By DR. G. ZCHADOW. Plates reproduced by J. +SUTCLIFFE. Oblong folio, 31s. 6d. + + +=SUVOROFF, LIFE OF.= By LIEUT.-COL. SPALDING. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Symonds (John Addington).= + +ESSAYS, SPECULATIVE AND SUGGESTIVE. New Edition in one volume. Demy 8vo, +9s. + + +=Tanner (Professor), F.C.S.= + +HOLT CASTLE; or, Threefold Interest in Land. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. + +JACK'S EDUCATION; OR, HOW HE LEARNT FARMING. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, +3s. 6d. + + +=Taylor (Edward R.).= + +ELEMENTARY ART TEACHING: An Educational and Technical Guide for Teachers +and Learners, including Infant School-work; The Work of the Standards; +Freehand; Geometry; Model Drawing; Nature Drawing; Colours; Light and +Shade; Modelling and Design. 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Rose).= + +WITH STANLEY'S REAR COLUMN. With Portraits and Illustrations. Second +Edition. Demy 8vo, 16s. + + +=Underhill (G. F.).= + +IN AND OUT OF THE PIG SKIN. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 1s. + + +=Veron (Eugene).= + +AESTHETICS. Translated by W. H. ARMSTRONG. Large crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. + + +=Walford (Major), R.A.= + +PARLIAMENTARY GENERALS OF THE GREAT CIVIL WAR. With Maps. Large crown +8vo, 4s. + + +=Walker (Mrs.).= + +UNTRODDEN PATHS IN ROUMANIA. With 77 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. + +EASTERN LIFE AND SCENERY, with Excursions to Asia Minor, Mitylene, +Crete, and Roumania. 2 vols., with Frontispiece to each vol. Crown 8vo, +21s. + + +=Wall (A.).= + +A PRINCESS OF CHALCO. A Novel. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. + + +=Ward (James).= + +ELEMENTARY PRINCIPLES OF ORNAMENT. With 122 Illustrations in the text. +8vo, 5s. + +THE PRINCIPLES OF ORNAMENT. 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Each Volume contains 8 Illustrations +reproduced from the Originals. + + + + +THOMAS CARLYLE'S WORKS. + +=THE ASHBURTON EDITION.= + +An entirely New Edition, handsomely printed, containing all the +Portraits and Illustrations; in 17 vols., demy 8vo, 8s. each. + +=LIBRARY EDITION.= + +Handsomely printed in 34 vols., demy 8vo, cloth, L15 3s. + +=PEOPLE'S EDITION.= + +37 vols., small crown 8vo, 37s.; separate vols., 1s. each. + + +=Sartor Resartus.= With Portrait of Thomas Carlyle. + +=French Revolution=: a History. 3 vols. + +=Oliver Cromwell's Letters & Speeches.= 5 vols. 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Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. and 6s. each. + + +=One of Our Conquerors.= + +=Diana of the Crossways.= + +=Evan Harrington.= + +=The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.= + +=The Adventures of Harry Richmond.= + +=Sandra Belloni.= + +=Vittoria.= + +=Rhoda Fleming.= + +=Beauchamp's Career.= + +=The Egoist.= + +=The Shaving of Shagpat=; and =Farina=. + + +F. M. EVANS AND CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, CRYSTAL PALACE, S.E. + + + +Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected. + +In Part I, Chapter I, "that Jokaei alludes to" was changed to "that Jokai +alludes to". + +In Chapter II, "the hinds see to their cattle" was changed to "the hands +see to their cattle". + +In Chapter III, "write his letter in own way" was changed to "write his +letter in his own way". + +In Chapter VII, a quotation mark was added after "on some one else's +shoulders." + +In Chapter VIII, "Arzael laughs aloud" was changed to "Azrael laughs +aloud". + +In Part II, Chapter II, "Behind the iconastastis" was changed to "Behind +the iconastasis". + +In Chapter III, "horses with flesh-cloured manes" was changed to "horses +with flesh-coloured manes". + +In Chapter VII, "the security of the whole realm are at stake" was +changed to "the security of the whole realm is at stake". + +In Chapter IX, "called away to Sombyo" was changed to "called away to +Somlyo", and "her husband from Sombyo" was changed to "her husband from +Somlyo". + +In the advertisements, numerous minor punctuation and spelling errors +were corrected, "Freicherr von Loudon" was changed to "Freiherr von +Loudon", and "BELUCHISTAN" was changed to "BALUCHISTAN". + +There are numerous cases of inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation +in the original text. 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