Kitabı oku: «The Village Notary: A Romance of Hungarian Life», sayfa 9

CHAP. VIII

Dustbury is the chief market town of the county of Takshony. While the Greeks of old built their cities in the clefts and hollows of rocks, as the learned tell us, we are informed that the vagrant nation from which we are descended were wont to settle on fertile soil; wherever our ancestors found luxurious crops of grass and a fountain of sweet water, there did they stop and feed their flocks. In this spirit they made their earliest camp at Dustbury. But when the tents gave way to houses, the luxuriant green of the pasturage disappeared, and the fountains of sweet waters, which invited our fathers to stay and rest on their banks, stagnated, and became a vast substantial bog. Still, if you look at the streets of Dustbury in autumn, and if you take notice (for who can help it?) of the deep cart-ruts in the street, you must confess that Dustbury does indeed lie in Canaan; and throughout many weeks in every year even the least patriotic of the natives of Dustbury find it difficult, and even impossible, to leave the city. The houses of Dustbury are intersected and divided by a variety of narrow lanes and alleys, which, by their intricacy, are apt to perplex the stranger within her gates. They have a striking family likeness. Except only the council-house and a few mansions, they are all, to a house, covered with wood or straw; and so great is their uniformity, that the very natives of Dustbury have been known to make awkward mistakes. A great deal might be said of the modern improvements of the town, – such as the public promenade, the expense of which was defrayed by a subscription; and the plantations, containing trees (the only ones in the neighbourhood), which are protected by the police, and which left off growing ever since they were planted. There was a plantation of mulberry-trees, too; but it dated from the days of the Emperor Joseph; and no more than three mulberry-trees were left in it to tell the tale of departed glory. Next, there is the pavement, which a French tourist most unwarrantably mistook for a barricade; though, for the comfort of all timid minds, be it said, that the pavement has since been covered with a thick layer of mud, so as to be perceptible to those only who enter the town in a carriage. I could adduce a variety of other matters to the praise and glory of Dustbury, but I abstain; and, leaving them to the next compiler of one of Mr. Murray's Handbooks, I introduce my readers into the council-house of Dustbury, and the lord-lieutenant's apartments.

The great man's antechamber was thronged with men of all parties, who, "armed as befits a man," waited for the moment – that bright spot in their existence! – which allowed them to pay their humble respects to his Excellency. Rety, Bantornyi, Baron Shoskuty, Slatzanek, and all the county magistrates and assessors, were there, either to report themselves for to-morrow's election, or to offer their humble advice to the royal commissioner. And truly their advice was valuable. One man said that X., the juror, was a man of subversive principles, and that the crown was in danger unless X. was to lose his place and Z. to have it. Another man protested that Mr. D. must be sworn as a notary: in short, every one had the most cogent reasons for wishing a certain place out of the hands of the very man who held it. The crowd dispersed at the approach of the evening. Some went to their club-rooms to harangue the Cortes, while others were busy preparing a serenade for the lord-lieutenant. That great man, meanwhile, tired out with his own kindness and condescension, promenaded the room, and talked to his secretary.

"So you think," said his Excellency, "that things will go on smoothly to-morrow?"

"Smoothly enough, except for those who may happen to get a drubbing. Rety is sure to be returned. Bantornyi does not care. He put himself in nomination merely to please his brother. His party will be satisfied with a few of the smaller places. Rety, who is a good, honest man, resigns the office, and Kriver, who is agreeable to either party, takes his place."

"I trust there will be no outrages."

"Nothing of the kind. We have two companies of foot on the spot, and the cuirassiers are coming to-morrow."

"But you know very well that I detest the interference of the military. People will misconstrue that kind of thing. They talk of the freedom of election."

"No!" said the secretary, smiling; "your Excellency can have no idea how fond the people here are of bayonets. Bantornyi and Rety asked me at least ten times whether due preparation had been made for the maintenance of order and tranquillity, and when I told them of the horse, they were ready to hug me from sheer delight. Your Excellency's predecessor was fond of soldiers, and there are people who cannot fancy a free election without bayonets. If they were called upon to paint the picture of Liberty, they'd put her between a grenadier and a cuirassier."

"Pray be serious!"

"So I am. Still it makes me laugh to think that the very men who now divide the county trace their origin as political parties to an idle controversy on the uniforms of the county-hussars. Hence the yellows and the blacks. I am sure your Excellency would laugh if you had seen their committee-rooms. Rety's head-quarters ring with high praises of his patriotism, for his having at the last election fixed the price of meat at threepence a pound; while in the next house you find all the butchers of the county for Bantornyi, the intrepid champion of protection and threepence-halfpenny. Just now, at the café, I overheard an argument on Vetshöshy's abilities, which were rated very low, because he is known to be a bad hand at cards. In short, your Excellency can have no idea of the farce which is acting around us. Slatzanek called half an hour ago, lamenting the lose of two of his best Cortes. They were stolen."

"They were – what?"

"Stolen, your Excellency. One of the men is forest-keeper to the bishop. He is a powerful fellow, with a stentorian voice, strongly attached to his party, and very influential in his way. He is a black. The yellow party surrounded him with false friends; they made him dead drunk, and in that state, in which they keep him, they take him from village to village, with the yellow flag waving over his head, thus showing him off, and making believe that he had joined their party. The thing happened a week ago, and the fellow, fancying that he is with the blacks, shouts 'Eljen!' with all the fury of drunken enthusiasm. The blacks have made several unsuccessful attempts to rescue their leader, and three noble communities, who were wont to vote with the bishop's keeper, have joined Bantornyi's party. The other man is a notary at Palinkash. They have put him down to a card-table, and whenever the wretched man thinks of the election, they cause him to win or to lose, just an it serves their turn to keep him there."

The lord-lieutenant laughed.

"Have you spoken to Tengelyi, the notary of Tissaret?"

"He is coming. To see that poor man lose his time and labour is really distressing. I never saw more sincerity of enthusiasm and more manliness of feeling. The good man is almost sixty, and still he has not learnt that a village notary cannot possibly be a reformer."

"I am afraid he's tedious," said his Excellency; "but we must bear with him, since you tell me he is a man of influence."

"So he is, and more so than any notary in any county I know of. Vandory, by whom the clergy of this district are wont to swear, votes with the notary."

"He is a demagogue, I am told."

"No; I do not think that name applies to him. The principles, which demagogues make tools of, are the grand aim and end of his life. In short, he is half a century in advance of his age."

"The worse for him, he'll scarcely live to see the day of general enlightenment. Men of his stamp are most dangerous."

"Hardly so. Men of strong convictions are for the most part isolated. They want the power to do harm, for they have no party. Who will side with them?"

"Nous verrons!" said the Count Maroshvölgyi. "The notary is a family man; besides, he is poor. Kriver told me all about him, and I dare say there are means of settling him."

"If your Excellency is right, I am mistaken."

"Nor will this mistake be the last of your life," said his Excellency, rising. "The glaring red on a woman's cheek ought to tell you that that woman is painted, and the belle des belles of the ball is palest in the morning. But I hear somebody in the next room. Pray see who it is; and if it be Tengelyi, leave me alone to talk to him."

The secretary left the room, which Tengelyi entered soon afterwards. His Excellency received him with great cordiality.

"Have I your pardon," said the great man, "for asking you to come to me? I wanted to see you, and I was disappointed in my hopes of finding you among my other visitors."

Tengelyi replied, that he was always ready to obey his Excellency's orders, but that he knew his position too well to trouble the Count with his presence on such a busy day as this.

"My dear sir, you are wrong to believe that I know not to distinguish between a man and his position, and that I mistake you for one of the common notaries."

"And your Excellency is wrong to believe that this would hurt my feelings. The extent of our usefulness determines the value which we have for others. People do not value our will, but our power; and though a village notary such as I, may possibly in his own thoughts rate himself higher than he does his colleagues, it would be wrong in him to ask others to do the same. But may I inquire what are your Excellency's commands?"

"Some years ago, when you were intimate with the Retys, I used to see more of you."

Tengelyi looked displeased.

"Pardon me," added the count, "if I have pained you by reminding you of that time."

"On the contrary, I feel truly honoured that your Excellency should have remembered my humble self, painfully though I feel that my influence does not stretch to the length of my gratitude."

There was a hidden sting of bitterness in Tengelyi's words, and especially in the tone in which they were delivered. The count continued: —

"What I ask – or rather what I crave of you – has nothing to do with influence. It rests solely with you to grant my suit, and to oblige me for all time to come."

Tengelyi cast a glance of suspicion at the great man. "Your Excellency," said he, drily, "may rely on me, if your command can be reconciled to my principles."

"I know you too well, and respect you too much to express any other wish. What I ask of you will convince you how deeply sensible I am of your merits."

Tengelyi bowed.

"I know," continued the count, "that you are au fait of the condition of the county. Your office brings you in contact with the lower classes. You see and hear many things which a lord-lieutenant can never know. Speak freely to me, I pray, and be assured that to advise me is an act of charity."

The notary was silent.

"Do not impute my demand to an idle and vain curiosity. The election comes off to-morrow. It decides the fate of the county for the next three years. You must be sensible of the importance of this moment, and you know that my influence can be of use to the public, if I exert it with my eyes open."

Tengelyi was in the act of opening his lips and heart to the lord-lieutenant; but he remembered that a man may take any line that suits his plans, and that his Excellency was known to be not over nice in such matters. He replied, therefore, that he was not mixed up with any party, and that he could not, to his great sorrow, enlighten his Excellency on that head.

Maroshvölgyi, who was a master in the noble art of flattery, had never yet encountered such an antagonist in the county of Takshony. He waived the attack.

"You mistake me. Do you indeed fancy me to be ignorant of the position of parties? I know more of them, I assure you, than is either good or wholesome for me. But is there nothing in the county beyond these wretched parties? Ought I not to know the condition of the people? Ought I not to know how the functionaries behave in their offices, and what the poorer classes have to expect from the candidates?"

"Is it then the condition of the people which your Excellency wishes to know?" said Tengelyi, with a deep sigh. "But who can give you an idea of their condition? Did you not, when you rode through the county, look out from your carriage at the villages on the roadside? And what was it you saw? Roofless huts, the fields neglected, and their population walking dejectedly, without industry, without prosperity, without that joyful merry air so characteristic of the lower classes of other countries. Believe me, sir, the people in this country are not happy!"

"But, my dear Tengelyi, I think there is some exaggeration in your words. The Hungarian people do not stand so low as you would place them: I know none more proud and manly. The Hungarian peasant is happier than any I ever saw."

"Do not be imposed upon by appearances. The peasant of Hungary is a stiff-necked fellow; and I must say, I take a pride in this race, when I see that the oppression of so many years has not bent its neck. A nation which after so much oppression can still hold up its head, seems to be made for liberty, – but for all that, the people are not happy. We do not see them in rags, – but why? because they never had any clothes, except linen shirts and trowsers! but do they therefore feel the cold of winter less? They do not complain. No; for they know, from the experience of centuries, that their complaints are unheeded. But do they not feel the oppression which weighs down upon them? Do they not feel the separation from their sons, when the latter are enrolled in the regiments, while the children of their noble neighbours show their courage in hunting at the expense of the subject's crops?"

"You live among the people," said the lord-lieutenant, quietly; "but believe me, in this respect, you are mistaken. I know Hungarian peasants who in wealth can vie with the agriculturists of any country."

"Of course; but are they the only peasants in Hungary? Are not there others in our counties, – men who are equally our brethren, – and who equally claim our attention? Consider the Russniak population of the county. We see them in rags, starved and wretched. Has any thing been done to bind these people to our nation? has any attempt been made to raise them to the rank of Magyars? of citizens of the country?"

"You are right, and it is to be hoped that the nation will soon understand its own interests. But what can the county magistrates do in this respect? What can I do?"

"Very much indeed!" replied the notary, enthusiastically; "if your Excellency would only extend your protection to the poor people! – if you would use your influence for the election of officers who are alive to the sacred duties of their office!"

"Alas!" said Maroshvölgyi, "I wish to God it were so, and that I could be to the people what I wish to be."

"Your Excellency can!" cried Tengelyi. "There are honest men, even among the present county magistrates: I need not tell you their names. You know them as well as the Retys, Krivers, Skinners. Take the part of the former, and oppose the latter. Believe me, your Excellency, the county has no lack of noble and generous men, and it lies in your hands to make the people of Takshony a happy people."

"But you forget my political position. Rety, Kriver, and the other men, are men of my party whom I cannot possibly throw overboard: but, I assure you, I respect the feelings which you have expressed to me. If you were in my place, you would see that there are some great and fine ideas which a man cannot call into life, whatever his seeming power and influence may be. Whatever influence I may have in the county, I owe to the popularity which I have obtained through my conduct; and if I were to follow your advice, I should lose my popularity."

"Popularity! of course, all coteries have their popularity; whenever a body of men are united for a certain purpose, they show their gratitude for him who promotes that purpose, and applause, garlands, and triumphs fall to the share of him who speaks loudest, and agitates most zealously for the realisation of the common object. But do not others live in our country besides the nobility which fills our council-halls? Are there not nobler things to strive for than these paltry Eljens? And the people, those millions who silently surround us, those vast multitudes, who have at present no reward for their benefactors but sighs and tears, but who, on the day of their glory, will raise the names of their champions in a louder shout than all the Cortes in all Hungary; – are they nothing to you?"

Here the speaker was interrupted by a distant cry of "Eljen."

"I go, your Excellency," continued the notary, "to make room for others. You will be surrounded with adorers. You will have music and speeches; but, believe me, the gratitude of the people is not the less strong for being silent, and if our country has a future, it will certainly not pick out its great men from among the cheered of this wretched time!"

Tengelyi bowed. The Count Maroshvölgyi shook his hand, and followed him with a deep sigh as he left the room.

"What do you say now, your Excellency?" said the secretary. "Was I not right in saying that this man's proper place is not in this county?"

"Let me tell you that his proper place is nowhere in this country," said Maroshvölgyi, as he stepped to the window to receive the serenaders.

CHAP. IX

As the evening wore on, the streets of Dustbury were restored to their usual darkness. The lord-lieutenant had retired after supper, and everything was quiet. From the committee-rooms, where the Cortes were locked up to keep them safe from foreign influence, there proceeded a low, dreamy, murmuring sound, mixed up at intervals with a hoarse voice, shouting the name of Bantornyi, or Rety, as the case might be; but no other signs of turbulence were there to warn the stranger of that gigantic uproar which, in less than thirty hours, was to welcome the birth of the new magistracy. One of the principal causes of this strange tranquillity might have been found in the fact that the town was occupied by Bantornyi's men only, and that consequently, any general engagement of the hostile parties was quite out of the question. For the Rety party had recurred to the well-known stratagem of marching their troops, in small detachments, close up to the scene of the contest, without entering the city. They were thus secured from having their men kidnapped, and could expect that their appearance in one compact body would produce a general and striking effect in their favour.

One of their extra-mural camps was at the distance of five miles from Dustbury, at one of Rety's farms; and it is there we meet again with our old friends the three hundred noblemen of St. Vilmosh. The village inn is small. It is one of those agreeable hostelries in which the stranger, though he may not find accommodation for himself, is at times lucky enough to find a stable for his horse; nor is there any impediment to his eating a good supper if he happens to be provided with victuals, salt, plates, knives and forks. The stable and the large shed, which, save on rainy days, offered a good shelter at all times, were on this occasion filled with clean straw, and devoted to the exclusive use of the nobility. Mr. Pennahazy, the notary and leader of the St. Vilmosh volunteers, had carefully locked the gate of the yard, to prevent his men from deserting; and, having taken this necessary precaution, he retired to the bed of the Jewish landlord, while the Jew and his family lay on the floor of the same room. The inn was as noiseless and tranquil as if no stranger were tarrying within its gates. In the bar-room alone there was a light shining from a deal table, at which two men were engaged in discussing a small flask of brandy. One of these men is the Jewish glazier to whom my readers were introduced in Tengelyi's house. His comrade, who is just in the act of lighting his pipe, has not yet figured in the pages of this story; but anybody that has visited the gaols of the county of Takshony will at once be convinced that the gentleman before him is Mr. Janosh of St. Vilmosh, alias Tzifra Jantshy; for it is not probable that he should have seen the gaol at a time when Tzifra was not in it; nor is it likely that any one who had once seen the man should ever forget him. Tzifra's character was very legibly marked on his face. His low and wrinkled forehead, his bushy eyebrows, his grey restless eyes, protruding jaws and livid face, with the frouzy grey hair and bluish, scorbutic lips, were calculated to make a strong, and by no means agreeable, impression upon any one who saw him. His sinewy limbs and powerful figure were, in the present instance, the more conspicuous from their contrast to the spare and starved form of the Jew.

"Well, well!" said the latter, shaking his head; "who could ever have supposed that you would come to the council-house without being dragged to it?"

"If a man's a nobleman, and is called to come – you see that is a fine thing! I know the lower stories of the county-house extremely well, but I must say I like the upper stories better."

"If I were in your place, I would not go, that's all. There are so many people who know you, – the turnkeys, the haiduks – "

"What the devil do I care for them? Who dares to touch a nobleman of St. Vilmosh?" cried Tzifra, striking the table with his fist. "They shall know me! I want them to know me; and when they see me walking in the hall, and when that confounded turnkey sees that I am a nobleman, while he's but a scurvy cur of a peasant, he'll burst with envy. No, I want to go there to make them savage; and if any of the fellows dares to look at me, by G – d I'll kick his pipe out of his mouth."

"Well!" sighed the Jew; "it's a fine thing to be a nobleman."

"So it is; d – n me, so it is! If a man's once suspected, they nab him and put him into quod, where he may wait until the gentlemen upstairs have time to think of him. Now a nobleman is bailable; he goes about for two or three years; and when sentence is passed and they nab him, at least they dare not beat him. Oh! I tell you the franchise is a fine thing, especially as you get it dirt cheap."

"You're a devil, Tzifra!" said the Jew; "but don't let Viola know of your call at the parson's. If he were to know of it, I wouldn't change my skin with you for all your nobility, nor for your devilship either."

The robber seized his knife. "Don't laugh at me, thou dog!" cried he, "for I will be – "

The Jew jumped from his seat. A few moments afterwards he sat down again.

"Don't joke in this manner," said he; "I know you won't kill me, because I tell you of your danger. I myself heard Viola say that he will do for the man who did that job at the parson's."

"He'll never know it; or do you think that Viola suspects me?"

"No indeed, but – "

"Or do you mean to betray me?" cried the robber, again seizing his knife. "You are the only man who knows that I was at the parsonage."

"Tzifra, you are a fool!" cried the Jew. "What have I to do with Viola or with the parson; didn't I sell the roan horse for you, which you made beyond the Theiss? And didn't you get ten florins and a half for that same hack?"

"Yes, but you did me then; but never mind, you're born to do it – it's your nature. But don't you talk of that business – you know what I mean. Don't even tell it to your God; for otherwise Viola cannot possibly know it, and he'll be hanged before he is a month older."

"Will he, indeed!" said the Jew. "How will they do it?"

"Why, didn't they catch him the other day?" replied the robber. "He'd be done for by this time, had it not been for one of his comrades who fired the sheriff's haystacks."

"Does he owe that good turn to you?"

"To me! Can there be any one who hates him as I do? Viola was a child playing in the streets; when I came to the village with my men he used to hide behind the stove; and now, curse me! you ought to see him, how he lords it over me. If right and justice were done in this villanous world of ours, who do you think ought to lead the outlaws but I, Tzifra Jantshy, who have been their leader for many years? – I, who know every hole and corner on either side of the Theiss, and who am a greater man with the Tshikosh and Gulyash¹² than even their masters! But the rascals wanted another man, d – n them! I found Viola amongst them! – that fellow who trembles like a woman when he sees a drop of blood! that coward who pities a weeping child! they liked him better than me, and if I had said a word they would have hanged me. He commands and I obey – but, blast me! he'll have the worst of it!"

"Bravo!" said the Jew, pushing the bottle over to his comrade; "it is quite ridiculous to think that Viola should presume to give his orders to a man like you."

"Of course, so it is!" cried the robber; "and what stupid orders his are! The other day he finds me driving a peasant's oxen from the field, and kicks up a row, and swears that I must take them back, for he wouldn't allow any of the poor people to be hurt. Last year I shot a Jew, whereupon the fool told me he'd shoot me if that kind of thing were to happen again. But never mind! D – n him, we'll see which of us is to be food for the ravens first! He'll feel my revenge by and by!"

"Ah, I see!" cried the Jew. "It is you, then, who told his worship the justice that Viola was coming to Tissaret."

"Confound you! hold your tongue! And suppose I did tell him; what next?"

"Nothing that I know of; but I know an opportunity of giving Viola a kick, and making good sum of money too."

"Halljuk!" shouted the robber.

"Silence!" cried the Jew, "you'll wake every man in the house. What did you get for that little job at the parsonage?"

"Are you at it again, you hound of a Jew?"

"Never mind. What do you say to five-and-twenty florins? I'll put you in a way to get them."

"Five-and-twenty florins? But how?"

"If you've but pluck – "

"Pluck!" repeated Tzifra, staring at his comrade.

"Well, never mind! Mark me now. The papers which you could not get the other day are at Mr. Tengelyi's."

"I am glad to hear it."

"Be quiet, will you? They are in the large iron safe, where you won't put your fingers on them, if I do not open it for you. Now, look here!"

And the Jew produced an old rag from which he took two keys. "Here they are," said he; "here are the keys, my man. I've got the key of the room too, and – "

"D – n the fellow!" cried Tzifra, grinning; "how in the devil's name did you get those keys?"

"I reconnoitred the place, saw the box, and knew it at once. Tengelyi bought it from one of our people in the market at Dustbury. He gave me the keys. The notary is at present at the election. We can do the job, and there is little danger."

"Aye!" said the robber; "let me see?"

"I won't!"

But Tzifra took the keys and put them into his pocket.

"So, now I don't want you. I can do it alone."

"Don't be a fool!" said the Jew; "what can you do with the keys?"

"Do?" cried Tzifra. "Go in and win! I'll have a hundred florins instead of five-and-twenty. I know that's the price which they offered."

"You're vastly clever, my friend. But do you happen to know the secret of the lock?"

"What is the secret?"

"Not so fast! You may wait a long while before I tell you."

"If you don't I – "

"Don't kick up a row. Give me the keys, and come along with me, and the five-and-twenty florins are yours. All you have to do is, to watch the house, and, in case of danger, to come to my assistance."

"But twenty-five florins! Rascal, you know you'll have a hundred, and you offer me but twenty-five!"

"But who is it that enters the house? Who got the keys? Twenty-five florins is a deal of money – it is the price of two young oxen."

"Will you give me fifty florins?"

"Impossible!" said the Jew. "The keys alone cost me no less than ten."

"Impossible? Very well. Oh! I am quite satisfied. I'll go to the election, and you may go to – "

"Give me the keys!" cried the Jew. "I'll find another man."

"Nonsense! I'll keep them. If you want another comrade, I'll leave you to find other keys."

"I'll give you forty."

"I'll be d – d if I take less than fifty."

After quarrelling for a time they struck the bargain; and the Jew, putting his hand in his pocket, paid the robber ten florins in advance.

"Now let us be off," said the Jew, "for when the leaders get up they won't let you go."

"You are right," rejoined Tzifra. "They take us to the election as they do cattle to the market."

They had scarcely left the room when the dusky face of Peti was seen to emerge from a heap of coats and cloaks. The gipsy had listened to their conversation. He left his hiding-place, stole from the room, and hastened away to St. Vilmosh.

It is now our pleasant duty to turn to a far different scene from that which we were compelled to place before our readers, any of whom, if they have ever loved, can easily guess the sensation with which Akosh mounted his horse on the eve of the election, and, leaving the streets of Dustbury, hastened to Tissaret. Night had set in, and his absence escaped observation. A dense fog covered the plain between Dustbury and Tissaret, and the horseman found it difficult to keep on the path which led through the meadow-lands. But he did not feel the searching coldness of the night air, nor was he inclined to stop by the watch-fires of the shepherds, and to dry his clothes. He hurried on, for Etelka had promised her brother that he should meet Vilma, to whose house he now directed his course.

Strange though it may appear to the less initiated into the mysteries of the human heart, Tengelyi's influence with his family, though paramount in every other respect, was eclipsed by the superior power of their feelings; Vilma and her mother knew of young Rety's visit, and expected him with great eagerness and anxiety. Mrs. Ershebet's time and attention were indeed taken up with the cares and anxieties which fill the heart of a Hungarian housewife who is expecting and preparing for the reception of a favoured guest; but when the evening wore on, when the turkey¹³ was on the point of over-roasting, and the pastry drying up, – and when the good woman looked at the clock and saw its hands approaching to eight, she shook her head, and, looking out at the kitchen-door into the drear and misty night, she was fairly overpowered with fear.