by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XXVI.
AT HOME.
The dawn found A-dA?n alone on the wide heath,--a bare and desolateplain before him, where nothing but earth and sky met the view, exceptthat in the distance the faint outline of a well-sweep could bedescried. A-dA?n turned his horse in that direction. The animal seemedthirsty, and quickened his pace as he drew nearer the well. Afterwatering him and turning him loose to seek what forage the barrenheath had to offer, the rider sat down on the low well-curb and gazedover the plain. But he was not long left to his meditations; thedistant neighing of a horse aroused him, and his faithful Ljubicza,with an answering whinny, came trotting to his side, as if offeringhimself for farther flight.
Resting one arm on the saddle, A-dA?n stood awaiting the stranger'sapproach. It certainly could not be an enemy roaming the plain in thatmanner; it must be a travelling companion, a fugitive like himself,who had been attracted thither by the well-sweep, that lighthouse ofthe arid plains. As he drew nearer, the unknown rider looked likesome stray member of a guerilla band. A bright red ribbon adorned hisround hat. Upon his closer approach A-dA?n recognised his oldacquaintance, Gregory Boksa, the ox-herd; and he was glad even of thishumble man's company in the lonely desert.
"Hurrah!" cried Gregory, as he rode up on his white-faced horse; "howglad I am to see you, my dear sir! May Heaven preserve you! It is wellyou made your escape, for they're having bad times back yonder. Imyself only got away with difficulty."
So saying, the driver of cattle dismounted and patted his horse on theneck.
"Yes, sir," he resumed, "if old White-face hadn't held out as well ashe did, it would have been all over with me. You see, when I learnedthat our people had laid down their arms, I said to myself: 'TheRussians sha'n't have my hundred head of cattle for nothing.' So Idrove the herd to VAirad through the BelA(C)nyes forest, and walked intothe Russian camp. 'I've got some cattle to sell,' said I, 'and if youwant to buy, now's your chance.' The stupid Russians snapped at thebait, agreed to my price after a little haggling, and gave me amoney-order for the lot. I was to go to RideghvAiry, said they, and hewould pay me the cash."
"Is RideghvAiry in VAirad?" asked A-dA?n quickly.
"Yes, indeed, he's there; but I took good care not to go near him. Iwas glad enough to be off before dog or cat could see me. The deviltake the money! RideghvAiry would have paid me in coin that I had nouse for."
A-dA?n felt lighter of heart. If RideghvAiry was in VAirad, he himselfowed his life a second time to Leonin Ramiroff; for had not the latterarrested him, he would have run into the arms of the former. What ifLeonin had foreseen this and stopped him on purpose? Perhaps, too, hisescape was really all of his friend's planning, and he had thus shownhimself a true friend after all. Whether it was so or not, A-dA?n clungto the belief that Leonin had behaved with noble generosity toward hisold friend.
"I am very grateful to you," said he, "for telling me where RideghvAiryis at present. In all the world there is no one I am so anxious toavoid."
"But what are your plans?" asked Boksa.
"I shall go to the very first Austrian officer I can find and tell himwho I am. He shall do what he chooses with me. I am going to face themusic."
This proposal by no means met with the other's approval. "That is notwise on your part," he remonstrated. "No, indeed! I am a simple man,but I can't approve of your course. When the conqueror is in his firstfrenzy, I say, keep out of his way, for he is sure to show no mercy tohis first victims. Why, then, such haste?"
"You don't suppose I care to lie hidden in the woods month aftermonth, or wander about like a tramp and be hunted from one county toanother?"
"No, no," returned Gregory, "I don't say you should do that, thoughfor myself I don't expect anything better. But you are a nobleman withan estate of your own; go home and take your ease, as becomes a man ofyour station, until they choose to send for you."
"And so make my hard fate all the harder to bear, after seeing againthose that are dearest to me in the world? No; both for their sakesand for my own I must refuse to follow any such advice."
"When did you last see your family?"
"It is now four months since I left Nemesdomb."
"And when did you last visit KA?rA?s Island?"
"I have never been there at all. My father bought that summerresidence while I was abroad, and since my return I have had noleisure for summer vacations."
"Very well, sir. I think now I understand you perfectly. With my poorwits I can easily see that a person of your importance would prefernot to surrender himself a prisoner to the first corporal or sergeantthat comes along. You wouldn't enjoy being driven through the nearestmarket-town with your hands tied behind you,--the sport of yourenemies. Now supposing you let me lead you, by lonely paths where wesha'n't meet a soul, to the house of an acquaintance,--anout-of-the-way place,--where you can write a letter to the Austriancommander-in-chief, and quietly wait for things to take their course.A thousand things may happen in the meantime. Why should you rush toyour destruction? Wait and let your fate come to you, I say, andmeantime keep your pipe lighted. If I were a great lord, that's what Ishould do."
"I accept your offer, my good Boksa," returned A-dA?n. "Your head seemsbetter than mine. Conduct me whither you will."
"All right!" responded the other. "Let us mount and be off."
Throughout the night the full moon lighted the two travellers on theirway. Many stretches, too, of dry, hard ground were encountered, wheremore rapid progress was possible than among the bulrushes and tallreeds. The horses, moreover, found occasional forage, stout grass andblackberry bushes being abundant. Toward morning they came to a river,and here Boksa and his charge rested in the hut of a fisherman who wasknown to the ox-herd, and who served his guests a hotly spicedfish-chowder. After partaking of it A-dA?n stretched himself on the rushmat, and, wearied as he was with his long wanderings, slept as soundlyas a tired child. When he awoke, Boksa was sitting on the door-sillnear him.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Near sunset," was the answer.
"So late as that? Why didn't you wake me?"
"Ah, that would have been a sin. You were at home, talking with yourlittle boy."
The road lay thenceforth along the riverside. It was late in theevening when they came to an island of some size lying in the middleof the stream, and communicating by a bridge with the bank on whichA-dA?n and his guide were standing.
"Here we are," announced Boksa. "This is where my acquaintancelives,--the one I was going to bring you to."
"What is his name?" asked A-dA?n.
"You'll know him when you see him," replied the other evasively.
"But shall I not be a burden to him?"
"No, indeed."
They rode over the bridge, and an ivy-covered villa came to viewthrough the foliage. Proceeding up the gravel path to the veranda,they alighted and gave their horses to the stable-boy. Through thelong windows that opened on the veranda could be seen a lamp andpeople gathered about it. A young woman sat with a sleeping child inher lap; an older lady, with a face of marble pallor, sat before anopen Bible; and a young man held a little boy on his knee and drewpictures for him on a slate. A big Newfoundland dog suddenly rosefrom the corner where he was sleeping, and, with a half-suppressedbark of eager expectation, came bounding to the door.
"Where am I?" stammered A-dA?n in great agitation.
"At home."