by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XIII.
THE REVERSE OF THE MEDAL.
After a troubled night's rest JenA' rose and, telling his servant thathe should not return until late in the evening, betook himself to thePlankenhorst residence, thinking thus to avoid all possibility ofmeeting his brother A-dA?n, who, he feared, might try to persuade him toreturn home to their mother.
"Welcome, comrade!" cried Fritz Goldner, chairman of the standingcommittee, as JenA' entered the drawing-room; "we were just speaking ofyou. Do you know that our cause is in great danger?"
JenA' had known that from the beginning.
"We must step into the breach," continued the chairman. "Thereactionary party is bent on compromising us and bringing disgrace onour patriotism by stirring up the dregs of the people to the mostoutrageous excesses. The false friends of liberty are inciting the mobto acts of violence and riot against the manufacturing andproperty-holding classes. Last night the custom-house was burnt andproperty destroyed in the outlying villages. To-day the rioters areexpected to attack the factories and the religious houses within thecity limits, and our duty will be to confront them and turn theirmisguided zeal into proper channels. We have not a moment to lose, butmust hasten to meet this movement and rescue our flag from thedishonour with which our false friends are striving to stain it. Letus oppose our breasts to the flood and dam its course with ourbodies."
Poor JenA'! To offer his own person as a check to the fury of the mob,and to stand as a target between two fires--that of the rioters on oneside, and of the soldiery on the other--was hardly to his liking. Buthe made haste to assure his friend Fritz of his hearty acquiescence inthe plan proposed, and bade him go on ahead; he himself would run homeand get his sword and pistols and then follow in a cab. BeforeAlfonsine he could not betray how little stomach he had for theundertaking.
Gaining the street, he hailed the first empty cab he saw, and hired itfor the day, directing the coachman to drive around whithersoever hechose, without halting, except at noon at some outlying inn, and latein the evening at his lodging.
His friends and co-workers in the cause of freedom did not wait forhim, but marshalled their forces and pushed forward to check the furyof mob violence that was now gaining fearful headway.
The Granichstadt distillery was a mass of smoking ruins. Themachinery had been wrecked, the brandy casks rolled into the streetand their heads knocked in, whereupon their contents had rushed outover the pavement in a stream that soon caught fire. This blazingPhlegethon, pouring through the streets, had been the salvation of theSt. Bridget Convent; for as long as the fiery stream barred the way inthat direction, the mob could not offer the nunnery any violence. Yetthe rioters were taking measures to overcome this obstacle, and werebringing sand, mud, ashes,--anything that would serve to make a roadthrough the burning flood. At the entrance to the convent, however, asquadron of hussars had been posted early in the morning; itscommander was Captain Richard Baradlay.
It was nearly a year since he had changed his quarters and moved outof the city into the barracks in the suburbs. His purpose in makingthe change had been to devote himself entirely to the duties of hiscalling. He was no longer seen idling in the town, he attended noballs, paid court to no ladies, but lived wholly with his men,contenting himself with their society, and became one of the mostindustrious of officers. He had learned from JenA' that Edith was at aboarding-school, to which her aunt had sent her the day after he hadasked her hand in marriage; and with this information he was content.The young girl was doubtless well cared for, and at the proper timehe would go and take her away. So why disturb her meanwhile?
In the last few days Captain Baradlay had received six successive andmutually contradictory orders, all relating to the maintenance oforder, and each signed by a different hand and valid only until itswriter's deposition from office. Finally, the young commander foundhimself left entirely to his own discretion. He was all night in thesaddle, leading his troop hither and thither, but utterly unable tosubdue a mob that broke out in one quarter after another and alwaysmelted away at his approach, to muster again immediately afterward inanother part of the town.
At length the light of the burning distillery had led him in thatdirection. After drawing up his men across the street and before theentrance to the convent, he was calmly watching the mob's advance,when suddenly a strangely clad figure approached him. A black coatfaced with red, black, and gilt, a sash of the same colours, astraight sword with an iron hilt, a broad-brimmed hat adorned with ablack ostrich feather,--these were the accoutrements of the stranger,who wore a thin beard and mustache, and was of a bold and spiritedbearing, though evidently not of military training. Hastening up toRichard, the newcomer greeted him heartily.
"Good day, comrade!" he cried. "Hurrah for the constitution and publicorder!"
Richard offered no objection to this sentiment, and the young gallantnext extended his hand, which the hussar officer did not refuse.
"I am Fritz Goldner," he explained, without further ceremony, "anofficer in the second battalion of the Aula."
"What news do you bring?"
"I heard that a mob was collected here and was likely to bringdishonour on our cause, and so I came to quiet the storm."
The other surveyed him doubtfully. "What, you alone?" he asked."Heavens and earth, man! I have been doing my best for three days, atthe head of my squadron, to put down the mob, and it is growingstronger every minute."
The young hero of the Aula threw up his head proudly. "Yes, I alonewill quell the disturbance," he declared.
"I leave you a free hand, comrade," returned Richard; "but I cannotabandon my position, as it would be no easy matter recovering itagain."
"Very well, then," assented the other; "you stay here as a passiveonlooker. But first may I ask your name?"
"Richard Baradlay."
"Ah, glad to meet you. Your brother and I are good friends."
"My brother JenA'?"
"Yes, he is attached to our headquarters at the Plankenhorsts'."
"Headquarters at the Plankenhorsts'?" repeated Richard, in surprise.
"Yes, indeed. Didn't you know about it? Both of the ladies are mostzealous friends of the cause, and they give us the happiest advice andsuggestions."
By this time Richard had dismounted and thrown his horse's bridle toold Paul. "So the Plankenhorst ladies are still in the city, arethey?" he asked, as he proceeded with Fritz toward the entrance of theconvent. "And you say they are friends of the revolutionists. Do youknow these women?"
"It is one of our chief concerns to know them," was the reply. "Theirpast is not unknown to us, but now they declare themselvesunconditionally on our side. Nothing catches fire like a woman's heartat the cry of freedom. But our confidence in them is a guarded one.We, too, have our secret police, and all their movements are carefullywatched. Should they attempt to open communication with their formerfriends, we should learn the fact at once and the two ladies would besummarily dealt with. Oh, I assure you, our forces are wellorganised."
"I haven't a doubt of it. And is my brother JenA' one of your number?"
"One of the foremost. He holds the rank of second lieutenant."
Richard shook his head incredulously.
The mob was meanwhile gradually making a path for itself through theflames of burning brandy, and as the intrepid Fritz caught sight ofone form after another through the blue-green fire, he became more andmore aware of the magnitude of the task before him. Distinguished fromthe rabble about him was one man, no less ragged and dirty than hisfellows, but of colossal size and brandishing above his head asix-foot iron bar as if it had been a wooden wand. He was pushing hisway forward in a sort of blind frenzy. Seeing the hussars, however,drawn up in formidable array, he paused for his comrades to join him,when he raised aloft his powerful weapon and, pointing to the buildingbefore them, shouted, in a hoarse, brutal voice: "Into the fire withthe nuns!" A bloodthirsty howl answered him from behind.
But suddenly the shrill notes of a bu
gle were heard above the howlingof the mob. It was a signal to the horsemen to hold themselves inreadiness for action, and it dampened the ardour of the rioters.
"For heaven's sake," exclaimed Fritz, "don't give the order to attack.We must avoid bloodshed. I will try to make these fellows listen tome."
"Speak, then, in God's name! I will stay at your side," said Richard,as he lighted a cigar and waited for his companion to try the effectof his eloquence on the unruly mob before them.
The convent steps served Fritz as a platform. Addressing his hearersas "brothers," he spoke to them about freedom and the constitution andcivic duties, about the schemes of the reactionaries, about theircommon fatherland and emperor and the glorious days they had justwitnessed. Now and then a hoarse outcry from his auditors forced himto pause, and more than once his remarks were punctuated by a flyingpotato or bit of tile hurled at his head. Richard, too, was hit twiceby these missiles.
"Comrade," cried the hussar officer, "I have had quite enough of thesepotatoes. Wind up your speech as soon as you can and let me try myhand. I shall find a way to make them listen, I promise you!"
"It is a difficult situation," returned Fritz, wiping his brow. "Thepeople have no love for the religious houses; but these nuns arewomen, and toward women even the revolutionist is chivalrous."
"So I see," rejoined the other dryly, glancing up at the windows ofthe building, many of which had been shattered by missiles.Fortunately for the inmates, the cells were protected by innershutters, which were all securely closed.
The rioters now began to pelt the hussars, whose horses were becomingmore and more restless. As Fritz opened his mouth to continue hisspeech, the man with the iron bar began to harangue also, and thepeople could understand neither of them.
At that moment there appeared from the opposite direction anodd-looking, long-legged student, with three enormous ostrich plumeswaving in his hat and a prominent red nose dominating his thin,smooth-shaven face. A tricoloured sash crossed his breast, while aslender parade-sword, girt high up under his arm to prevent hisstumbling over it, hung at his side. With a quick step and a lightspring, the young man was presently at the side of Richard and Fritz.
"God keep you, comrades!" he cried in greeting. "Calm your fears, forhere I am,--Hugo Mausmann, first lieutenant in the second legion. Youare hard pressed just now, I can well believe. Friend Fritz is afamous orator, but only in the tragic vein. Tragedy is his forte. Buta public speaker must know his audience. Here a Hans Sachs is calledfor rather than a Schiller. Only make your hearers laugh, and you havecarried your point. Just let me give these folks a few of my rhymes,and you shall see them open their eyes, and then their mouths, and allburst out laughing; after that you can do what you will with them."
"All right, comrade," returned Richard; "go ahead and make them laugh,or I shall have to try my hand at making them cry."
Hugo Mausmann stepped forward and made a comical gesture, indicatinghis desire to be heard. Deliberately drawing out his snuff-box, hetapped it with his finger, and proceeded to take a pinch, an actionwhich struck the spectators as so novel, under the circumstances, thatthey became silent to a man and thus permitted the speaker to beginhis inexhaustible flow of doggerel. With frequent use of such rhymingcatchwords as, "in freedom's cause I beg you pause;" "your country'sfame, your own good name;" "our banner bright, our heart's delight;""we're brothers all, to stand or fall,"--he poured out his jinglingverse, concluding in a highly dramatic manner by embracing the hussarofficer at his side, in sign of the good-fellowship which he describedas uniting all classes in the brotherhood of freedom.
"Comrade, you haven't made them laugh yet," said Richard.
Hugo continued his rhymed address, but the people would listen nolonger. "Down with the friend of the priests!" sounded from all sides."Into the fire with the nuns!" And the shower of missiles came thickand fast. An egg hit the speaker on the nose, and filled his mouth andeyes with its contents.
"Give us a rhyme for that, brother!" shouted the successful marksman,and all laughed now in good earnest; but it was the brutal laugh ofmalice and ridicule at another's discomfiture.
Richard threw his cigar away and sprang down the steps. Fritzintercepted him, and insisted on being heard.
"Brother," he cried, "do nothing rash. Avoid the shedding ofblood--not that I fear bloodshed in itself, but the hatred that issure to grow out of it. We must not hate one another. Your sword mustnot drink our people's blood. A peaceful issue is still possible."
"What, then, do you advise?"
"Go and speak to the prioress, and persuade her to leave the buildingwith all her nuns; they have no costly possessions to carry with them,and you can soon clear the house. Then we will admit the leaders ofthe mob and show them that there is no booty to be had, and no nunsthere to burn. We will write on the outer doors: 'This is stateproperty,'--as it really is,--and no further injury will be done tothe building. Mausmann and I will keep back the mob while you do yourerrand. By that time the rest of our party will be here, and we willgo among the people and make them listen to reason, and cease fromviolence."
Richard pressed the other's hand. "You are a brave fellow," heexclaimed, "and I will do as you say. Only keep the 'brothers' amusedwhile I go and talk with the 'sisters.'"
With an added respect for these two young men who were bravely tryingto gain their ends by peaceful means, Richard returned to the entranceof the convent, and knocked at the door. The cautious door-keeper wasat length persuaded to open to him. The captain of hussars feltsomewhat ill at ease in playing any other rA'le before the helplessnuns than that of their defender at the head of his cavalry; heconsoled himself, however, with the thought that a nun was after allnot the same as other women, but a sort of sexless creature who wasnot to be treated according to the conventional rules of society.
He found the passages all deserted, the nuns being assembled in therefectory. Pausing on the threshold of this room, the young officerbeheld a scene that could not fail to move him deeply. In the middleof the room lay a dying sister, while about her were grouped hercompanions, ministering to her wants and seeking to comfort her. Inthe group one face caught his eye and held him spellbound.
It was Edith. This, then, was where her aunt had placed her to awaither marriage. She stretched out her hands to her lover in despairingappeal, as the bloodthirsty howls of the infuriated mob fell on herears. With wrath in his bosom the young man ran down the stairs, andout of the door. As he sprang into his saddle he thought he saw ashutter of one of the upper windows pushed partly open. Perhaps Edithwas looking out, and watching him.
"Well, if she is looking, she shall see that her lover is a man," hesaid to himself.
"Clear out of here, you dirty rascals!" were his words to the mob.Insolent laughter and mocking shouts were the answer he received.
The officer's sword flashed over his head, the bugle gave the signalto charge, and Richard dashed forward into the very heart of theraging mob, straight toward the giant form of its leader. The latterbrandished his iron weapon and made it whistle through the air. Atthat moment Richard seemed to hear a scream from the window above;then the six-foot iron bar came down toward his head with a hiss as itcleft the air.
All honour to the Al-Bohacen sword that was raised to meet the blow;and all honour to the arm and hand that received the brunt of itsforce on the sword-hilt. There was a clash and a shower of sparks, butthe Damascus blade stood the test and suffered not a nick or ascratch. Before the giant could lift his weapon again he found himselflying under the horse's hoofs. Five minutes later the square wasempty.