by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER III
Monsieur le Capitaine Descourcelles rode an excellent horse, was acapital rider, and was plainly very much in love. These threecircumstances combined brought back the gallant soldier from Raab byfive o'clock in the afternoon.
The captain of the cuirassiers was not a little surprised to find thegeneral's wife playing cards with the hostile leader.
"General Guillaume agrees to everything," he announced immediately, onentering the room. "He will release the ladies he has been holding asprisoners."
Vavel hastened to shake hands with the bearer of these glad tidings, whowas, however, more eager to kiss the hand of Vavel's partner, and toinquire:
"I hope I find the ladies perfectly comfortable?"
"Very comfortable indeed," replied madame. "_Messieurs les Cannibales_are very polite, and _leur Catzique_ plays an excellent hand at piquet."
"And where is mademoiselle? I trust she is not suffering from thefatigue of the journey?"
"Oh, no; she is very well. She is making her toilet, and will soon joinus. I hope we shall leave here very soon."
Madame now rose, and left the two soldiers alone in the room.
"Here," observed the French captain, handing Vavel a paper, "is the_sauf conduit_."
The pass contained the information that "Vavel de Versay, expatriatedFrench nobleman and magnate of Hungary, together with the CountessThemire Dealba (alias Baroness Katharina Landsknechtsschild) and SophieBotta (pretended Princess Marie Charlotte Capet), with attendants, wereto be allowed to travel unmolested by any French troops they mightchance to meet."
Ludwig Vavel looked at this document a long time.
"Do you doubt the assurance of a French officer, monsieur?" asked thecaptain.
"No; I was just unable to understand why a word had been used here. Idare say it is a mistake. But no matter. I am greatly obliged to you."
"Pray don't speak of it," responded the Frenchman, cordially shaking thehand Vavel extended toward him. "I must not forget to tell you that afour weeks' armistice was agreed upon to-day."
The ladies now entered the room, prepared to continue their journey. Theface of the younger one wore a more cheerful expression than on herarrival at the parsonage. Madame thanked Vavel for his courtesy, then,with her daughter, entered the carriage and drove away.
Madame Guillaume was forgetful: she neglected to take leave of her hostthe pastor, and of her wounded countrymen in the church.
Vavel communicated the news of the armistice to his adjutant, andcommanded him to return at once with the Volons to Fertoeszeg, there toquarter themselves in the Nameless Castle, and await further orders.Then he mounted his horse, and, accompanied by Master Matyas, gallopedout of the village.
Twilight had deepened into night when the two men arrived at Raab. Theclocks were striking eight, and the French trumpets were sounding theretreat at every gate. Vavel, therefore, would not be allowed to enterthe city until the next morning; but Master Matyas, who did not stop toinquire which was the proper way when he wanted to go anywhere, knew ofa little garden that belonged to a certain tanner, and very soon foundan entrance along a rather circuitous route among the tan-vats.
Vavel had already seen battered walls, and dwellings ruined by bombs andflames, yet the thought that he should find his loved ones amid thesesmoke-blackened ruins oppressed his heart.
The two men attracted no attention. In the last days there had been manystrangers in the city, deputations from the militia camps, to assist inestablishing the line of demarcation. Master Matyas, without difficulty,led the way among the ruins to the neat little abode where the worthyvice-palatine had established his proteges. When they came within sightof the house Matyas observed:
"The two Frenchmen with their bearskin caps are not on guard to-day. Thevice-palatine's servant seems to be doing sentry-duty."
Vavel applied his spurs and cantered briskly toward the house, butmoderated his speed when he came nearer. He remembered how easily Mariewas frightened by the clatter of horse-hoofs.
At the corner of the street he alighted, and cautioning Matyas toexercise slowly the fatigued horses, proceeded on foot to the house.
The servant on guard at the door saluted in military fashion with drawnsword. Ludwig hurried into the house. In the hall he encountered thelittle Laczko, who, at sight of the visitor, dropped the boot and brushhe held in his hands, and disappeared through a door at the end of thehall. Vavel followed him, and found himself in the kitchen, where thewidow of Satan Laczi also dropped to the floor the cooking-utensil shehad in her hand.
The count did not stop to question her, but went on into the adjoiningroom, whence proceeded the sound of voices, and here he found threeacquaintances--the vice-palatine, Dr. Tromfszky, and the surveyor, HerrDoboka. The three started in alarm when they beheld Vavel. The doctoreven made as if he would rush from the room--as when in the NamelessCastle the furious invalid had seized his groom by the throat.
The expressions on the three startled countenances brought a sudden fearto Ludwig's heart.
"Is any one ill here?" he asked.
The vice-palatine and the doctor looked at each other, but did notspeak; the surveyor began to stammer:
"I say--I say that--"
"Is Marie ill?" interrupted Vavel, excitedly.
Herr Bernat silently nodded assent, and pointed toward the door leadinginto the next room.
Vavel did not stop to inquire further, but strode into the adjoiningchamber.
What a familiar little room it was, another fairy-like retreat like thatof the Nameless Castle! Here were Marie's toys, her furniture; the fourcats were purring in the window-seat, and the two pugs lay dozing on thesofa.
A canopy-bed stood in the alcove, and among the pillows lay Marie.Katharina was sitting by the bedside.
"Oh, God!" cried Vavel, in a tone so full of anguish that every one whoheard it, man, woman, and child, burst into tears. The invalid among thepillows alone laughed--laughed aloud for joy.
And had she not cause to rejoice? Ludwig--_her_ Ludwig--did not hastenfirst to embrace and kiss his betrothed wife. No, _she_, his littleMarie, was the first!
He flung himself on his knees by the bed and covered the pale face withkisses and tears.
"Oh, my dearest! My adored saint! My idol!" he sobbed, while Marie'sface glowed with the purest earthly happiness.
She pressed Ludwig's head to her breast and whispered soothingly:
"Don't grieve, Ludwig; I am not going to die. I have not got that horridinfluenza poor papa Cambray brought with him from Paris. I took a littlecold the night we ran away from the bombs; but I shall soon be wellagain, now that you are come. I want to live, Ludwig, and you, whorescued me from death once before, will know how to do it again."
Katharina laid her hand tenderly on the maid's head, and said gently:
"Don't talk any more now, dearest; you know you must not exciteyourself."
Marie grasped the white hand and drew it down to Ludwig's lips.
"Kiss it, Liadwig; kiss this dear, good hand. Oh, she has been a goodlittle mother to me! She has wept so much because of me. If only youknew what she had planned to do when they were going to tear me awayfrom her! But that danger is past, and now that you are come everythingwill be well. We have been reading about you, Ludwig. What a hero youare--our knight, St. George! I have n't been really ill, you know,Ludwig; it was only anxiety about you. I shall soon be well again.Please tell the doctor I don't need any more medicine. I want to getup--I feel strong already. I want to put on my gown; then I will takeyour arm and Katharina's, and we three will promenade to the window. Iwant to see the evening star. Please send Frau Satan to me; she can liftme more easily than Katharina, for I am very heavy. Ludwig, takeKatharina into the next room while I am dressing. I know you have muchto say to each other."
Frau Satan now entered in answer to the summons. The doctor had orderedthat the invalid's wishes must be obeyed.
Ludwig and Katharina went into the next room. They lo
oked long into eachother's eyes, and in the gaze lay many of the thoughts which, if theycannot be told to the one person on earth, are never heard by any oneelse. Suddenly Katharina, without word of warning, dropped on her kneesat her lover's feet, seized his hand, and laid her face against it.
"You are my guardian angel," she whispered (the invalid in the next roommust not be disturbed by the sound of voices); "you have rescued thatsaint from her enemies and saved me from perdition. Oh, Ludwig, if onlyyou knew what I have suffered! Marie's every sigh, the feverish wordsuttered in her delirium, have been so many accusations oppressing myheart. These have been terrible days! To be compelled hourly to dreadeither of two horrible blows, and to have to pray to God that, if bothcould not be averted, to let the milder one fall! Death would have beenwelcome, indeed, compared to the other one. To listen tremblingly, hourafter hour, for the knock at the door which would announce the messengersent to bear Marie to Paris, or death with his scythe to bear her to thegrave! And then to have to look on her sufferings, and hear her pray forher betrayer! Oh, it was terrible, terrible! Ludwig, you are just--asGod is just. I have suffered as any woman in the Bible suffered. Youhave taken my load of sorrow from me, have released my heart from thetortures of perdition. All the evil I have done, you have made good.Therefore, do you pronounce judgment on me. Condemn me or forgive me. Ideserve both; I will accept either at your hands."
Without a word Ludwig Vavel raised the woman to her feet, clasped her inhis arms, and pressed his lips to hers in a long, long kiss. In it wereforgiveness, love, union.
* * * * *
From the adjoining room came the sounds of a piano. Some one was playingthe hymn of the Hungarian militia.
Ludwig and Katharina hurried into the room. Marie was seated at thepiano, arrayed in her favorite blue gown. Her transparent hands hoveredover the ivory keys, and lured from them the melancholy air, to whichshe sang, in a voice that seemed to come from the distant clouds:
"Was kleinliche Bosheit ausgedacht, Hat unserer Liebe ein Ende gemacht."
At the last word her arms sank to her sides; the exertion had completelyexhausted her. But she struggled bravely to overcome her weakness. Shesmiled brightly at Ludwig and Katharina, and said:
"This melancholy song was not intended for you two. It was only to showLudwig how I have improved. You two will love each other very dearly,won't you? And you will go far, far away from here, and leave 'Marie'buried in her tomb. I don't mean myself; I mean the troublesome girl whohas made so much ill feeling in the world, because of whom so manypeople have suffered; the girl whose ashes rest there in the steelcasket, and whose life was so sad that she had no desire to live longer.But 'Sophie' is going with you out into the world. She will see howhappy you two can be. And now, help me to the window; I want to look atthe evening star,"
They rolled her arm-chair to the window, and Vavel opened the sash toadmit the fresh air from the garden.
Marie clasped Ludwig's and Katharina's hands in both her own, andwhispered in a faint voice:
"You will forget the past, will you not? or think of it only as adream--a disagreeable dream. And don't go back to the Nameless Castle.The veiled woman, the locked doors, the silent man, the telescope, thelonely promenades in the garden--all, all were dreams. Don't think ofthem! Forget them all! The clanking swords, the thunder of cannons--allthese were not. We only dreamed it. We never lived under the shadow of athrone. Who was Marie? A sovereign of cats, and crown princess in therealm of little dogs and birds--a nursery tale to tell naughty littlechildren who will not go to sleep! But Sophie Botta will be hereto-morrow, and the next day, and always; she will be with you, thesilly, stupid little maid, who can do nothing but obey those whom sheloves with all her heart."
Vavel with difficulty refrained from giving voice to his overwhelminggrief.
"Just see," Marie continued in a gay tone, "how much better I am!Heretofore, when the hour came for the evening star to appear, the feverwould come too, and to-day it has failed to come with the star. Joy hascured me. Don't take your hands away from me, Ludwig--Katharina. Theywill--hold me--hold me--fast."
But they did not "hold her fast."
And why should such a being remain on this earth--a being that could donaught else but love and renounce, adoring her nation even when itpersecuted her?
* * * * *
A dark thunder-cloud rose above the horizon out over the Hansag. The skylooked like a vaulted ceiling hung with mourning draperies. From timeto time a distant flash of lightning illumined the cloud-curtain, thenwould be heard the rumbling of thunder, like the deep tones of a distantorgan.
Under the threatening sky lay the glittering lake. Its surface ofquicksilver was streaked here and there with black shadows--the track ofthe wind-gusts racing across it. The trees were rustling in the wind,making a sound like a distant choral.
On the shore of Lake Neusiedl stood the Volons in rank and file. Theywere waiting for something that was coming from the farther shore of thelittle cove.
Presently the glistening surface of the water was ruffled by a blackobject that pushed out from the shore. It was a boat. Six men wererowing, a seventh held the rudder. There was a coffin in the boat,covered with a simple pall. No ostentatious trappings ornamented thecoffin; only a myrtle wreath lay on it. A woman, sat at the head of it,another at the foot--the former a lady, the latter a peasant wife.
The six men, with even and powerful strokes, sent the craft through theripples which occasionally leaped into the boat, as if they would saluteher who had so often toyed with them.
At the moment the boat touched the shore the storm burst. Vividlightning illumined the heavy downpour of rain, and it seemed as if theblack-robed forms bore the coffin to its grave amid a flood ofharpstrings that reached from heaven to earth.
The two weeping women followed the coffin; at a little distance theyseemed two shadows. The helmsmen of the funeral boat now stepped to thehead of the grave and opened his lips to speak, but a heavy peal ofthunder drowned his voice. When it had ceased he said:
"My brave comrades, you are here to pay a last honor to your patroness.There is nothing left for us to fight for. Peace has been proclaimed.The conqueror takes from you a plot of ground twenty-four hundred squaremiles in extent. The one lying here takes from you only six feet ofearth. To you remain your tattered flag and your wounds. Return to yourhomes. My sword has finished its work, and will accompany the saint forwhom it was drawn!"
As he spoke he broke the keen blade in twain and cast the pieces intothe grave, adding impressively, "May God give us forgetfulness, and maywe be forgotten!"
The Volons fired three salvos over the grave, the reverberating thunderand the flashing lightning mingling with the noise of the muskets.
When the storm had passed the moon rose in a cloudless sky. Only thewaves, which had been stirred by the tempest, continued to murmur totheir favorite who was sleeping peacefully in her grave on the shore.
Marie had asked to be buried on the grassy slope by the side of her oldfriend the Marquis d'Avoncourt, and that no other monument should markher resting-place save the imperishable tree which turns to stone afterit dies.
And what could have been graven on her tomb? A name that was not hers? Ahistory that was not true?
Or would it have been well to carve on the marble her true life-history,that those who would not believe it might wage a lawsuit against anepitaph?
No; it was better so. No one would ever learn what had become of her.
Vavel had prayed for forgetfulness--that he might be forgotten.
His prayer was granted.
For a few years afterward tales were repeated about Sophie Botta, andsome of her kinsfolk came from a distance to claim the sum of moneyVavel had placed in the hands of the authorities for the young girl'sheirs. But none of the claimants could produce satisfactory proofs ofkinship, and after a while Sophie Botta was forgotten by all the world,as were Count Vavel and Ka
tharina.
The Nameless Castle as well vanished from the face of the earth, as haveentire villages which once stood on the treacherous shores of LakeNeusiedl.
Gradually, imperceptibly, the castle disappeared; gradually,imperceptibly, bastion after bastion vanished, until not even the stonehand which held aloft the sword in the noble escutcheon, or the toweringweathervane, could be seen above the placid waters of the lake.