by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XV
MARVELS NOT TO BE SEEN FOR MONEY
It was now four years since I had made friends with the beech woods. Fortwo years I was "Sajo," but after that I was again able to practise theart of letters in my own name.
My wife and I saw nobody, and nobody came to see us. We had both of usquite enough to do without paying visits. My wife was an actress, and Ian author. And let nobody suppose that actresses and authors live in theland of Cockaigne.[88] Both have very hard work to do, and rest is theirdearest recreation.
[Footnote 88: Lit., a sky full of fiddles.]
Unfortunately I was engaged in publishing and editing. Nominally,indeed, the director of the National Theatre was the responsible editorand publisher of the belle-lettristic and artistic journal _Delibab_,for my name was still under police supervision; but, in reality, I wroteand edited the whole paper, corrected the proofs, and folded up,directed, and despatched the copies of it to the subscribers--and gotinto trouble for it besides.
My only assistant was a worthy, semi-rustic, very pronounced Hungarianlad, called Coloman Iglodi, who had served as lieutenant under thebanner of the red-capped Honveds in our Utopian days.[89] At the battleof Tarczal he had received three bullets, one in the face, the second inthe arm, and the third in the leg, and these wounds he had to thank forhis dismissal as a genuine invalid. So he joined me as messenger,secretary, and door-keeper, and a worthy, honest fellow he was.
[Footnote 89: _i.e._, during the war.]
One afternoon "clerk Coloman" (that was his familiar epithet) opened thedoor of my working-room. "I beg pardon, sir," said he, "but a cuirassieris here."
"What sort of a cuirassier?"
"A senior lieutenant."
"What does he want with me, I wonder?"
In the fifties the visit of an officer was tantamount to a challenge.Those were the days of the famous political duels in which ColomanTisza,[90] Julius Szapary,[91] and Francis Beniczky fought with thedelegated officers.
[Footnote 90: The late Prime Minister of Hungary and leader of theLiberal party there.]
[Footnote 91: The present Prime Minister.--Since this note was written,Szapary has given way to Weckerle.]
"Admit him!"
"Call me, please, if necessary," said clerk Coloman confidentially,making at the same time a significant movement with the paper-knife.
Then the visitor entered.
In figure he was half a head taller than me at the very least. He was astrong, broad-shouldered fellow. His bony face wore quite a stonyexpression by reason of a powerful eagle nose and a broad double chin.On the other hand this sternness was somewhat contradicted by a pair ofhonest, bright-blue eyes, a little mouth, and offensively light hair,though his eyebrows, moustache, and whiskers were even lighter.
My visitor, as he advanced from my door to my writing-table, took thosethree short mazurka steps which, with men, are generally thepreliminaries to a military salute; he held, close pressed to his thigh,his beautiful helmet, with the golden lions and the black-yellow plumes;and when he stood in front of me, he clashed his spurs together andintroduced himself in Hungarian.
"I am Wenceslaus Kvatopil, senior lieutenant of dragoons."
He had the peculiar habit of accompanying every word with an explanatorymovement of his hand, so that a stone-deaf person could have understoodperfectly what he meant. The deprecatory movement of his handmeant--Wenceslaus Kvatopil; the indication of the twin stars on hiscollar meant that he was a lieutenant; the slight elevation of hishelmet signified that he was a dragoon, and the simultaneous sweep ofthe hand towards his breast gave me to understand that he was _not_ acuirassier.
"I am glad to see you," I said; "how can I be of service?"
"I should like to have a long conversation with you, sir, if you willlet me."
At this I would have offered him a chair, but on no account in the worldwould he suffer me to do so, but helped himself to one, and then oncemore apologised for the trouble he was giving before he sat downopposite to me.
I begged him to address me in German, as I was quite capable of makingmyself understood in that tongue.
"No! no! En _akarom_ magyariul beszelni"[92]--and at the same time hemade as though he were ducking the head of a refractory urchin in abasin of soapsuds.
[Footnote 92: "I want to talk in Hungarian."]
"_Akarok_," I good-humouredly corrected him.
"No! no! _Akarok_ is the _indefinite_ mood, _akarom the definite_ mood;and I want to speak Hungarian _definitely_."
I was forced to acknowledge to myself that his logic was stronger thanhis grammar.
"I was born in Leutomischl"[93]--here he let his head fall regretfullyon his breast.
[Footnote 93: A Bohemian town. He meant by this that he belonged toCzech officials who had been forced upon Hungary.--TR.]
I with corresponding pantomime replied that that need not make anydifference between us.
"My father was"--here with both hands he took aim with an imaginary gun.
It now occurred to me _why_ he made all these gestures. Such is oftenthe way with those who have taught themselves a foreign language withouta master, and cannot find quickly enough the word they want. I hastenedto his assistance.
"A forester?"
"Yes, a forester. He had sons"--he lifted up both hands, and then onefinger.
"Eleven?"
"Yes, eleven. I myself was"--he held the palm of his hand quite low downtowards the floor.
"The youngest?"
"Yes, the youngest."
"My father gave me"--here followed a very suggestive gesture.
"Yes, a _very rigorous_ education."
"But it was all"--he lightly tapped the hollow of his hand, as much asto say "No good!"
"He wanted me to be"--he laid the palms of his hands together as if inprayer.
"A priest?"
"Quite right! I wouldn't"--a snap of the fingers, and then a lizard-likedart into the palm of the hand.
"You mean to say you took French leave of the Seminary?"
At this we both laughed. The gesture next following--a smack on the palmof the hand illustrated by a little equitation on the back of achair--gave me to understand that my visitor had then become a soldier.
"At four-and-twenty I was a lieutenant. I lay at Cracow for two years. Iserved in the Hungarian war from beginning to end. I am now thirty-fouryears old. And still I am only a lieutenant. Curious, isn't it?"
I agreed with him that it was certainly most surprising.
"My other comrades--no, not _comrades_, that's a French word."
"_Bajtarsai?_"[94] I suggested.
[Footnote 94: "Your comrades"--the Hungarian equivalent.]
"Yes, of course! my other _bajtarsai_ all became captains and majors,and have got decorations. I've nothing! Nothing, I tell you! And I'mpretty plucky too. I'm a good horseman--I've never given offence--Iunderstand my duties. What do you think the cause is?"
I really was curious myself to know the cause of this misadventure.
"All through the war I was interned at Temesvar with my squadron. Nooccasion for displaying valour. Cavalry behind trenches. My comrades allon the battle-field"--he made a swift motion with his hand.
"And fought bravely?" said I, completing the sentence.
"Yes, they fought bravely, whilst we horsemen besieged in the fortressmight"--here he put the tips of his thumbs between his teeth and puffedout his cheeks.
"Smoke your pipes?" I suggested.
"Yes, we smoked our pipes."
Here we both gave way to merriment once more. Again I urged upon myvisitor to speak in German, and we could then perhaps get along moreeasily, but he only replied, "_Muszaj!_"[95] Well, if he knows even that_Hungarian_ word, I thought, he _must_ have his own way, that's all.
[Footnote 95: A corruption of the German _mussen_, but as used inHungarian it expresses the most emphatic necessity. When all otherarguments fail, the word _muszaj_ is supposed to carry everything beforeit.--TR.]
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"Yes, I _must_ speak Hungarian, by command of the highest authority."
"The highest?"
With that he seized the lappets of my coat with both hands.
"Come, now! Do you know who is the greatest tyrant in the whole world?"
"Dionysius of Syracuse."
"Ha! ha! ha! Young blood! 'Tis this!"--and with his index finger hetapped himself between his fourth and fifth ribs on the left-hand side.
"The heart, eh?"
"You're right. The heart. 'Tis the greatest tyrant. _It_ commands me tospeak Hungarian."
"Then you are in love, eh?"
A gesture with the palm of his hand right up to the chin was the answer.
"Up to the neck, eh?"
"No, over head and ears."
"With a lovely Hungarian damsel?"
He raised his three fingers closely pressed together to his lips, whichwere pointed as if to receive a kiss, thereby explaining that she was_very_ lovely.
Then he passed his extended palms softly over his face, then, joiningthem together beneath his chin, affirmed, so far as I understood him,that she was also young and charming.
Then he pressed his waist with both hands, which meant "slim as a lilystalk."
After that he cracked his fingers right in front of his eyes, whichmeant "What eyes!"
Finally he crossed his arms, and immediately afterwards disengaged themagain.
"In a word, a ravishing beauty," said I. "I congratulate you!"
"I think you may."
"Your tender sentiment is naturally reciprocated?"
"Oho!" and he caught hold of the flat of his sword.
"I did not mean to insinuate the contrary," I said.
"Naturally."
Then he was silent, and began to fumble about his stiff cravat. I sawthat he wanted me to ask him some more questions.
"A maiden lady?"
"Oh, no!"
"Then a widow lady?"
"Ah, no!"
"Then it can't be a lady at all?"
"No, no! What are you thinking of?"
"Then what is she?"
"A lady who has a husband, but yet is not a married lady."
"Aha! A _divorcee_?"
"Yes."
"Then the relations between you are quite legitimate."
At this, my lieutenant of dragoons rose from his chair and stood beforeme in quite a magisterial position. I also stood up.
"The lady desires you to be her ..."--here the word he wanted would notoccur to him. He raised the three first fingers of his right hand abovehis head, like one who is taking an oath. I guessed his meaning.
"A witness to her marriage?"
"No, not that. She used another word."
"Oh, she meant I was to give her away?"
"Yes, that is it. How I do forget!"
"Then is the chosen of your heart an acquaintance of mine?"
"Naturally. If I were only to mention her first name you would rememberat once. Bessy!"
"Ah, Bessy!"
"How red you've got! You were in love with her once yourself. I know!She told me. Well, will you give her away?"
"With pleasure."
"Really?"
"With all my heart."
Then he caught hold of my hand with both his hands; squeezed my handviolently, and his eyes grew quite tiny with sheer rapture. I believedhe would have liked to kiss me; but he had a big nose, and I had a bignose, too, so we could not very well have managed it.
"Then will you allow me to bring in my bride?"
"Whence?"
"She is waiting outside."
"Not on the staircase?"
"Yes, indeed. On the staircase. She won't come in till she's quite sureyou'll give her away. She's a bit shy."
I immediately hastened to open the door for my hesitating visitor.
It really was Bessy.
It was winter time just then, and she had all sorts of furry garmentsupon her, and a furred cap on her head; she looked just like a fairMuscovite.
There really seemed to be some sort of coquettish bashfulness in herface.
I couldn't imagine why. I had seen her face before under many similarcircumstances, and after Muki Bagotay, Peter Gyuricza, and TihamerRengetegi, Wenceslaus Kvatopil was decidedly an improvement.
The bridegroom remained in the room while I admitted the lady. Then hefirst craved permission to kiss her hand, and then begged her pardon forkissing it. After that there was absolutely no getting him to take aseat, but he persisted in standing on one spot, leaning over the back ofthe arm-chair in which his lady sat.
"Have you grasped what my hero has told you?" inquired Bessy, when shehad got over her first embarrassment. "Just fancy! he has given me hisword as a gentleman that henceforth he'll never address a word to anyHungarian except in the Hungarian language. And he tortures hisHungarian orderly to death with it to begin with."
"A most laudable resolve," I was obliged to answer.
"But now, first of all, let me explain to you why I ask you to putyourself to the inconvenience of giving me away."
I assured her that to give her away was not an inconvenience, but apleasure.
"After our last meeting you never anticipated, perhaps, that we shouldmeet again in this life?"
I lifted my head and looked at her with amazement.
"Oh! we can say anything before _him_" (here she pointed at herbridegroom). "He's as nice and good a boy as ever lived. I could twisthim round my little finger if I liked. You can say anything before him.You know my story, I think, up to the time when I had to go into hidingwith Balvanyossi after the Revolution. I shouldn't like you to imaginethat I quitted that man from pure lightness of heart. Just fancy! he hadthe impudence to commit that act of baseness which I mentioned to you:he told the Imperial Commissioner the whole story of the conveying ofthose despatches, cleared himself from the accusation of that heroicdeed, and at the same time denounced me. He justified himself to me onthe ground that it was necessary to '_purify_ himself,' in order that hemight obtain a theatrical licence, and that they would not _impute_ thislittle joke to me because I was a woman. But they _did_ impute it! Theyarrested me, they imprisoned me, and they severely cross-examined me.And I have to thank this worthy young fellow alone for getting offscot-free. He took my part. But for him I should have had to pay mostdearly for my heroic exploit. Shouldn't I, Wenzy?"
The lieutenant hinted, with a deprecatory wave of his hand, that no moreneed be said about the matter.
"Hence our acquaintance began," continued the lady, "and this, perhaps,will justify me in your eyes for selecting a foreigner, a foreignofficer, as my _fiance_. I had very strong reasons, you must admit, forgrowing cold towards my former hero."
The fair lady did not appear to be satisfied with the impression thather eyes had made upon me; at least, I had some reason to believe thatthe following commentary was intended not so much for the delight of herbridegroom as for my own edification.
"Believe me (I am perfectly serious about it), I am not merely gratefulto Kvatopil because he has rescued me from my great difficulties, and,what is more, from any further improprieties on the part of thatBarabbas Balvanyossi;--no, I also esteem him as a noble nature worthy ofall respect; from the crown of his head to the tip of his toe he is fullof the love of truth, not even in jest would he tell a lie. He isvaliant and strong-minded, and at the same time affectionate andtender-hearted. A man of his word, in fact, who does not lightly givehis word either. A really model man."
A pencil was in my hand, and before me was a blank sheet of paper, and Iinvoluntarily scribbled on this piece of paper "Number 4."
The lady grasped the import of my hieroglyphic and shook her head, butshe smiled a little too.
"But he is not like the others," she insisted; "he is the directopposite of what _ladies' men_ think a man should be. It will soundincredible, I know, but it is the simple fact that he has been myvisitor these three years. He has come to see me nearly every day duringthat period, and nev
er has he permitted himself a single bold advance ora single unbecoming expression. Every day I have to tell him, just as ifit were the first time, to take a seat, put down his helmet, and placehis sword in the corner, and our conversation has never gone beyond thecriticism of Schiller's verses."
I was bound to admit that this was really an extraordinary case.
"I couldn't help rallying him about it," continued the lady; "you knowthat I am not accustomed to a wooer who imitates the statue of Memnon;and then Kvatopil confessed, with perfect simplicity, that he was_afraid_ of me. 'If I were as timid on the battle-field,' said he, 'as Iam in your presence, His Majesty would only give me my deserts bydismissing me from his service.'"
The lieutenant signified by a nod of his head that his words had beencorrectly reported.
"Finally," continued Bessy, "I had to ask for his hand--hadn't I, myfriend?"
The bridegroom replied that such had indeed been the case.
"Even then he was quite coy. He pleaded his humble rank. He begged timefor consideration. Now, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did."
"I had to remove his scruples one by one, till at last I brought him toa definite declaration, and he said he would take me to wife. Never haveI met with such an officer before."
Bessy read from my face the expression, "Why bother me with all this?" Inever asked about it, and I didn't care a fig about her affairs.
"Look now," continued she, in an almost supplicating voice, "I don'ttell you all these things to amuse you, but because I have an earnestrequest to make of you."
"So the lieutenant informed me."
"I don't mean about giving me away--that is _not_ a serious request. Youwould do that to oblige any servant of yours. I have a much greaterrequest than that to make. I wish to ask you to be my guardian, myfoster-father."
"I? Your _foster-father_?"
"Don't put so much emphasis on the word _father_. You are four yearsolder than I am, remember."
"What does a married woman want with a guardian?"
"I assume the case of a married woman who mismanages her property."
"And do you believe, then, that _I_ am such a great financier?"
"I believe that you are my sincere friend, anyhow. You are my only realfriend in the round world who neither asks nor expects anything for hiskindness to me. I know it from experience. You have heard, no doubt (andif you haven't heard, you might easily have guessed it), that myrelations have shaken me off. They deny that they ever knew me. Mymother has married again and removed to Prague. Every one in whom Iwould confide tries to get something out of me--either money, or what ismore precious than money. Whosoever would attach himself to me is eithera swindler, or a seducer, or a parasite. As for myself, I am a stupid,credulous creature, who will never have any brains to bless herselfwith. I need a strong hand over me, some one to look after my materialinterests and save me from bankruptcy, some one in whose good-will I mayconfide. I know very well I might find a more _experienced_ guardianthan you, even if I went no further than the civic magistrates; but Icould endure dictation from nobody--but you. Your dictation I could putup with. For Heaven's sake do not let me perish!"
I could not help being sorry for her. I perceived also that she forboreto take my hand. Still, it is a rather ticklish position to become theguardian of a pretty woman, especially a pretty woman of this kind.
"Very well, I don't mind. But let us consider the whole businessseriously. I suppose the lieutenant agrees to it?"
Wenceslaus Kvatopil assured me that he had no will of his own in thematter.
"Well, now, let us consider the merits of the case. Have you still gotthe money which you deposited in the Vienna savings bank?"
"Yes, and as soon as you are my guardian, I mean to draw it out anddeposit it in the bank at Pest."
"So much the better, it will be more convenient for the quarterlypayments of interest. And then, too, you will have to pay out of thisamount the usual caution-money required of every officer about tomarry."
"Yes, I know. Six thousand florins."
"Of course, you might also mortgage your father's house to thisamount."
"Whichever you think best."
"I think the latter way will be best, for I foresee that you will getvery little profit from your houses, and I want to save as much of yourready money as possible."
"_Save_, do you say?" cried Bessy, opening her eyes very wide at thisword.
I scratched my head all over (I had lots of hair to scratch in thosedays). It was my duty as guardian to express my views with perfectcandour. At last I found the requisite formula.
"Look now, my sweet ward Bessy, and you also, respected lieutenant, Ihave seen all sorts of wonders in my lifetime. I have seen a one-leggedballet-dancer who could turn the most difficult pirouettes; I have seena painter without hands who painted masterly pictures with his feet; Ihave seen a blind actor who played Hamlet right to the very end. Butwhat I never have seen yet is a cavalry officer without debts."
At this, the pair of them burst into a loud ha! ha! ha!
"No, no!" cried the bridegroom, "I am not such a wonder as that!"
I now begged him, since we had become so confidential, to be so good asto draw his chair close to the table and put down his beautiful helmetwith the black and yellow plumes and go into figures.
"How much do your debts amount to?"
And a very pretty little amount he made of it.
The bridegroom could read from my face that I thought the amount atrifle extravagant for a lieutenant; for that amount Bessy could havegot a major at least. He hastened to explain matters.
"I did not incur this large debt myself, the culprit was anotherlieutenant, a friend of mine, a rich and distinguished young fellow. Hegot me to write my name to a bill as guarantor of the amount. He wasstill a minor. I wrote my name, of course--what did I know about it?Suddenly, when my young friend got over head and ears in difficulties,he blew his brains out. His father refused to pay the bill, and so Iinherited it from his creditors. Since then I have been paying andpaying, but the debt, instead of diminishing, increases, and theterrible _boa conscriptor_ winds itself tighter and tighter round mybody."
A boa conscriptor indeed, was this gigantic conscriptor[96] serpent!
[Footnote 96: A translation of the Hungarian word _Osszeiro_, whichmeans a conscript or schedule of anything, _here_ a schedule of debts.]
At this we all three laughed again, which was rather odd, for there wasnothing at all to laugh at.
The long and the short of it all was that after discharging her lover'sdebts, and depositing the caution-money, my ward Bessy still hadtwenty-five thousand florins left.
"All right," said she, "that's just why I asked you to be my guardian,for if the money remains in my hands, every bit of it will vanish bythe end of the year."
"I wonder you've kept it so long."
"The wonder is owing to the fact that my mother inhibited the payment ofthe amount to me, and this embargo can only be removed when I am marriedto a man of rank and honour."
"You'll have to be very economical in your housekeeping," I said, "notto exceed your income."
"There's Kvatopil's pay, too, and as a cavalry officer he is entitled tofree unfurnished quarters."
"And you'll be able to put up with an officer's free quarters?" I said.
"You know very well that to such things" ... (I saw that she meant tosay, "I am used to such things," and I pulled a wry face. She rightlyunderstood from my pantomime that it would be scarcely _proper_ tomention the events of "Anno Rengetegi" in the presence of her Royal andImperial[97] bridegroom, so, with theatrical _savoir-faire_, she passedin an instant from the impudent nonchalance of a _vivandiere_ to thetender cooing of a turtle-dove) ... "true love is always ready tosacrifice itself." And with an enchanting smile she extended her hand toher bridegroom, who raised it with tender enthusiasm to his lips. Theywere just like turtle-doves.
[Footnote 97: Royal as belonging to the service of the King o
f Hungary,Imperial as serving the Emperor of Austria.]
"Eh, Wenzy?"
"Yes, Eliza!"
I felt no particular pleasure in this version of Romeo and Juliet,indeed I was half-inclined to hiss the performers.
"Before giving you my paternal blessing, my dear children," said I, "Ihave one question to ask you. Most honoured Mr. Lieutenant, as Iunderstand that you were originally intended for a priest, I presumethat you are a Catholic?"
"A Roman Catholic, yes."
"During the time you spent in the Seminary, then, have you not so muchas learnt that a Catholic is not free to marry a Calvinist woman whomthe civil tribunals have divorced from her husband; for, according toCatholic dogma, marriage is a sacrament which the secular power cannotdissolve?"
At this the bridegroom looked very much amazed.
"Neither of us thought of this certainly."
Bessy suddenly cast a basilisk look at me. Huh! what lightnings flashedin those sea-like eyes!
"Then how are we to get over that?" inquired the bridegroom of me, withchildlike helplessness.
"Why, by your becoming a Calvinist, I suppose."
"A _Calvi_ ..." he was already outside the door when he said the ..."_nist_!" He caught up his helmet and bolted without saying good-bye toany one. Clerk Coloman told me afterwards he had never seen a dragoon insuch a hurry.
Bessy he left behind on my hands.
The young lady was in a terrible rage.
"It was pure malice on your part," cried she, "to do me out of mybridegroom like that! What do you mean by it? To serve me such a nastytrick as that!"
I justified myself as best I could.
"He would have had to know it sooner or later. The priest would haverefused to unite you."
"You should have left that to me. If once I had paid his debts, hishonour as a gentleman would have bound him to make this sacrifice forme; he could not have got out of it then."
I was forced to admit that I had acted very clumsily. I humbly beggedher pardon. I would never do it again. Her next bridegroom might be aMohammedan, for all that I cared.
"You never could speak sensibly to me. No matter! I'll bring WenceslausKvatopil back here one of these days."
And off she went in a huff.
This interruption had annoyed me. I had lots to do. I had to write theaddresses of our subscribers on the covers of the neatly foldednewspapers. This was not an ideal occupation, especially when one had topaste on the wrappers as well, which it was also _my_ business to do.Some proof-sheets were also awaiting me with a lot of printers' errors.It was a realization of the proverb, "When the church is poor, theparson tolls the bell himself." In my leisure hours, however--my time ofrepose--I went on with my romance, "A Hungarian Nabob"; the idea of theprincipal character I had borrowed from a story of my wife's.
A couple of weeks elapsed. One evening, when I was hesitating whether Ishould go and see about my oil-lamp myself, or wait till clerk Colomanreturned home from the post, or the chamber-maid from the theatre,whither she had gone to carry my consort her costume in a basket, aviolent ringing began outside. I had to go and open the door myself.
To my great surprise, I saw Bessy before me with her lieutenant on herarm.
Wenceslaus Kvatopil was bubbling over with affability.
"Here I am again, sir. They have arrested me, and put me in chains. Imust surrender."
Yes, I thought, when the starving garrison is reduced to horse-flesh.
"The siege was vigorous. Such batteries. Look! Those eyes! Congreverockets are nothing in comparison. The star battery is already taken."
"The firing must have been terrible indeed."
"And now I must ask you once more to be my witness."
"You mean your bride's witness?"
"No, mine. First you must come with me to the priest to inform him thatI have renounced the Catholic faith."
"What, already?"
"Yes, and from conviction."
"Would you take a chair, please?"
"From absolute conviction."
"Bessy is a more clever arguer than any missionary; an energeticpropagandist."
"And if I were to be damned on the spot, if I were to lose my hope ofeternal salvation, I should be ready to sacrifice that also for thosedear, lovely eyes."
"Come, come, Mr. Lieutenant," I said, "pray don't talk so wildly."
"But I mean what I say--I am ready to become a Mohammedan for her sake."
"I can quite believe it."
"Then you will be my witness at the priest's?"
"Pardon me. 'Tis a serious matter. I honour my own religion as much asother sects honour theirs, yet I am no proselytizer. Do you wish tobecome a Calvinist from sincere conviction?"
At this word he leaped furiously from his seat.
"A Calvinist? Certainly not! Heaven forbid!"
"Then what do you want to be?"
"I want to be a Lutheran."
"'Tis all one."
"The devil it is! We at Leutomischl hold the Calvinists to be infidels."
"Your bride might have told you, I think, that this is not true."
At this, Bessy again intervened. She implored me prettily not to denyher this little kindness. Kvatopil had only consented to be convertedbecause they have crosses in the Lutheran churches and believe in thesacraments, so that by joining them a man does not risk losing hisheavenly hopes so much, and the Commander-in-chief would not be downupon him so fiercely as if he were to go over to the CalvinistKuruczes.[98] The end of it all was that I, a Calvinist presbyter, hadto introduce a newly-converted soul into the Lutheran Church.
[Footnote 98: _Kurucz_, a name originally given to the Transylvanianinsurgents under Francis Rakoczy; they were mostly Protestants.--TR.]
I really must have been a very good sort of fellow formerly, that is tosay, before my heart was hardened.
At last every obstacle was overcome. I consented to give away my ward,Wenceslaus Kvatopil's bride. Bessy received from her excellent mother(who was now a general's wife) intimation that she had withdrawn hersequestration from the money in the Vienna bank; the caution-money wasdeposited, the boa conscriptors were satisfied, and nothing hindered usfrom going to church.
The marriage party, besides the bride and bridegroom, consisted of twowitnesses; the bridegroom's witness was a battalion commander, a majorwho brought his wife with him.
And here, perhaps, every one will ask me why the wife of the _other_witness was not there also?
It is an awkward question.
I might, I know, summarily dispose of the whole matter by saying that mywife had just gone, by special invitation, to act at Szabadka; she hadbeen invited, but could not come. But this answer, I know, isunsatisfactory.
I would, however, first of all, lay down this axiom: "An honourablehusband should give his wife _no occasion_ for jealousy; but neitherought he to make her jealous _without occasion_."
The sacred truth is that I had never mentioned Bessy's name in my wife'shearing. ("Slipper-hero!") Did she know of her? I don't know. She wasmuch too proud to have ever shown it if she did.
I had Bessy's portrait, and it was in the drawer of my writing-table. Itwas there even when I got married. And if it had found its way into anyone's hands, I could not have said that it was the portrait of mygrandmother. But this is what did happen. When the Russian armies brokeinto the kingdom, I, foreseeing the end of the unequal struggle,shouldered my musket, tied on my sword, fastened my knapsack round myneck, took leave of my wife, and went forth to seek the camp ofGorgey--on foot. On my way I met Paul Nyary. "Whither away so armed tothe teeth, brother Maurice?" said he. "I am going to die for mycountry," I replied, with tragic pathos. "And what have you got in yourknapsack?" "A ham." "Well, before dying for your country, let us have abit of that ham of yours together." With that he helped me up into hiscar, and in the car beside him was already sitting Joseph Patay--twomembers of the Hungary Government at Debreczin, in fact. I was curiousenough to inquire whither we were going, wh
ereupon Nyary replied:
"The dog that bolts to Szeged town T'wards Buda lets his tail hang down."[99]
[Footnote 99: Buda and Szeged being in diametrically opposite directions.]
Even with the danger of instant death hanging over his head, his bitterirony never forsook him. So I went on with Nyary to Szeged. A weekafterwards my wife followed me. Our house she had entrusted to poor oldDame Kovacs. The clever comic actress had no need to fear the Cossacks.When, however, the Russians occupied Buda-Pest, and the rigorous orderwas issued that all arms, uniforms, and Hungarian bank-notes were to begiven up, whilst every one in possession of a prohibited object or arevolutionary proclamation was to be tried by court-martial and shot,then indeed the good old dame ransacked all the drawers of mywriting-table, and crumpling up into a heap all she found there,including Petofi's correspondence, a letter of Klapka's, the whole of mydiary which I had written during the Revolution, with innumerable andinvaluable data, pitched the whole behind the fire, and so theydisappeared. In this great _auto-da-fe_ Bessy's portrait was alsoreduced to ashes. I therefore have my suspicions that something wasknown about it, but nothing was ever said to me on the subject.
So that, you see, was why _only I_ was present at Bessy's wedding.
The rendezvous took place in her apartments. Here I had the opportunityof making the acquaintance of my fellow-witness, the major of dragoons,and a very genial man he was. He was a good copy of a genuine Hungarianlord-lieutenant of a county. Nothing but cordial hilarity and jovialmerriment, you would never have taken him for a soldier, least of allfor an Austrian soldier. He blackguarded the "Bach[100]-hussars," buthad nothing but praise for the Hungarians. He had not been shut up inTemesvar like the lieutenant, but had been fighting in Italy, and hadonly just come hither. He had the habit of seasoning his discourse withHungarian proverbs and pithy aphorisms. He introduced his wife to mealso. "My domestic dragon," he said; he could not dispense with hisjesting even then. The lady, however, clearly did not belong to thedragon species. On the contrary, she was a remarkably pleasant woman, inthe prime of life, with really handsome features. One thing I will sayof her: when once she began to talk she never knew when to leave off.Her conversation knew neither rest nor pause. In my eyes, however, thisis an advantage, for it is my invariable practice to entertain my ladyfriends by letting them talk to their hearts' content, while I listen.
[Footnote 100: The reactionary Austrian Minister who was mainlyresponsible for the attempted denationalization of Hungary.--TR.]
When the bride was still in her boudoir, the major's lady made methoroughly acquainted with the family affairs of all the officers' wivesin the regiment. When the bride appeared in all her bridal glory,accompanied by the bridegroom, who held his helmet in one hand and agigantic bouquet of camellias in the other, the exchange of notesbetween the witness of the bridegroom and the witness of the bride tookplace with all the usual formalities.
Towards me the major acted with the studied courtesy of a highGovernment official, but towards the lieutenant he acted the part of asenior officer from beginning to end. He ordered him about as if he weresitting on horseback and on the point of setting out for scout duty. Andthe lieutenant obeyed him like a machine. In fact, the bridegroom quitegave me the impression of a man sitting in his saddle at the head of hissquadron. The small arms were beginning to fire, the musket balls werepiping about his ears, the hissing grenades strike the ground in frontof him, and he cannot so much as move his head aside till the liberatingcommand sounds: "Forward! March! Draw your swords! On 'em! Cut, slash!"Stop! What am I saying? Here was no question of cutting and slashing!No; press her to your breast, rather! Is she not your bride?
Finally, at the word of command, we reached the altar.
It was all over. I had given Bessy away. She was married.
She bore up very gallantly; but then, of course, she had had a deal ofpractice.
But as for the bridegroom, every one of his movements had to be byorder; he was accustomed to have it so. He was so moved indeed that hecould scarcely draw off his glove, and would have forced the bride tostand on the right hand, whereas the priest wished her to pass to theleft; and when the ceremony was over, he turned towards his own witnesswith the expression of a delinquent condemned to death who has now nohope left save in the mercy of the Court of Appeal.
"We have been married with our left hands," he stammered.
His best man reassured him: "Have no fear of that, my son. 'Tis theusual thing. The bride always stands on the left, but your right handswere duly placed within each other."
"Impossible!"
Worthy Kvatopil did not seem to know which was his right hand and whichwas his left.
On the way home the happy bride and bridegroom sat together in a littlecoach.
A splendid banquet awaited the guests in Bessy's lodgings. The table wasalready spread.
When the happy husband had conducted his darling yoke-fellow into themidst of us, he, without more ado, flung himself on the sofa, and,hiding his face in the palms of both hands, began to weep bitterly.Such a wonder as that is surely not to be seen for either love or money!That a bridegroom should weep fit to break his heart immediately afterthe marriage ceremony, and bewail the loss of his bachelordom in floodsof bitter tears!
The two ladies, however, took him in hand between them, and began toentreat and console him, but he could not stifle this outburst offeeling. The major also reassured him very prettily: "Come, come, mydear friend, you need not take it so tragically. Look at me now! I'vebeen through it all! Look how well I get on with my domestic dragon!"This, however, was poor balm to him in his great affliction. At last themajor fairly lost his temper. "A thousand Turkish skulls! What's this,lieutenant? Do you wish to regale us with a specimen of the highermorality? Bombs and grenades! Embrace your wife, sir, immediately!"
Bessy looked at me as if she were on the point of weeping. I pitied herfrom the bottom of my heart.
"Mr. Lieutenant," I said, "have you ever learnt English?"
The newly-married husband was amazed.
"Yes," said he.
"From Ollendorf's grammar?"
"Yes."
"Do you recollect exercise No. 2: '_Why does the Captain weep?--Becausethe Englishman has no bread._'--Well, then, let us _give_ the Englishmansome bread."
At this every one burst out laughing. The lieutenant also laughed.
And so this scene came to an end. We sat down to table, and amidst themerry ring of glasses we made a good deal of fun out of the odd andmystical question of Ollendorf's, "Why does the Captain weep?" and thestill more curious answer, "Because the Englishman has no bread."
The lieutenant's frame of mind remained an inexplicable enigma to me. Inafter years I discovered its true solution.
The cause of his weeping was altogether different from what Ollendorfhad supposed.