by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XIII.
THE LEATHER-BELL.
We Magyars are very liberal in the distribution of nicknames, in thisrespect, indeed, our fancy outruns that of the Princes of the Orient,and the titles we bestow are even more appropriate than theirs.
In Hetfalu "Leather-bell" was the nickname of a peculiar man, whose realname had quite slipped out of everybody's memory. This derisive epithetwas given to him by the housewives to whom he used to convey all thelocal gossip, to wit: who it was who died to-day, where he was going tobe buried, whose turn it was to work for the castle this day or that,who was doing the rector's cooking for him, &c, &c, &c. This was thename he went by throughout the parish when he went about tellingeverybody in which house there was going to be a birth, a marriage, or afuneral; who was in need of the last sacraments, or how much wine thesquire gave for the use of the Lord's Table. This was the title by whichhe was greeted at the castle, where he religiously presented himself toinform the good folks there where serviceable domestics could be got, orwhere anything was to be sold, or what were the current prices of cornand poultry. He himself was half the servant of the gentry, and half theservant of the community; nay, he belonged somewhat to the villagepriest also, and indeed to any good fellow who had a glass of beer tooffer him. He was perpetually scurrying from house to house, from thelocal magistrate's residence to the market-place, from the market-placeto the castle, from the castle to the parsonage, from the parsonage tothe miller's, the pot-house, and the tavern, thence into the fields, andthence again into the courtyards. He would pick up something here andsomething there, something he might, perhaps, have heard at the churchporch or up in the belfry; or something would catch his ear as he wasdawdling among the waggons on a market-day, and he would immediately runand repeat it at the miller's. By the time he had reached the pot-househe would hear his own invention, already well amplified and nicelyembellished, circulating from mouth to mouth as an absolute fact.Whereupon he would dash off with this enlarged edition of it to thecastle, stopping, however, to tell it to every living soul he met on theway with all the variations which struck him as most appropriate on thespur of the moment, so that he really well-earned the epithet of"Leather-bell," inasmuch as he was performing all the functions of abell, and, nevertheless was covered with a coat of skin or leather.[17]
[Footnote 17: The Hungarian word "boer" means both skin and leather.]
On this particular momentous evening, the Leather-bell, allhurry-scurry, rushed into the porch of the castle, where the old lord ofthe manor was nursing his invalided limbs in an ample easy chair, havingso disposed himself as to be able to command a view of the western sky,still lit up by the faint hues of sunset.
Once upon a time the Leather-bell must have been a tall man, butexcessive salutations had so bent his back, and an incessant to-ing andfro-ing had given his head such a forward inclination, that whoeverbeheld him now for the first time must needs have suspected him of anintention to run straight under the table incontinently. He was the veryimage of obsequiousness, and he presented his back to the world asthough he would say: "Smite away at it whoever has a mind to."
Old Hetfalusy liked to see the man. He had leave to come and go wheneverhe chose. He was free to relate serious matters with a smiling face, andamusing incidents in a whining voice, especially as the points of allthe jokes generally turned against himself.
"I kiss your honour's hand," said the Leather-bell, depositing his hatand stick in the doorway. "I kiss your hand (and kiss it he did thereand then). How frightfully hot it is outside, and oh! what a lot ofdust. Those boors are always routing it up with their ox-waggons. They_make_ all the dust, I do believe. My throat is full of it, and it liesheavy on my chest. Oh no! I humbly thank your honour! Don't putyourself about! I'll not have a drink. Yes, I really mean it. I didn'tsay I was thirsty on that account. Wine does not suit my constitution atthis time of day. Besides, to tell you the truth, I have had somealready. For how else could I endure this terrible heat and thishorrible dust. It weighed so upon my chest that I was obliged to look inat Samsi's tavern for an instant. Oh no! I assure you I did not go thereon that account. I only wanted to have a word or two with my good friendthe magistrate. He was not there, it is true, but instead of him I foundthe sworn jurors, Spletyko and Hamza, and a couple of peasants, whothereupon seized and offered me some brandy to drink. Your honour willgraciously understand that I don't like brandy very much, myconstitution won't stand it, and then it was only the afternoon, and itis not wholesome to drink so early. So, says I, thank you, but I won'ttake any, whereupon every man jack of them fell fiercely upon me. 'Oh,ho!' they cried, 'so you too have already been primed what to drink andwhat not to drink, eh? So they have told you that the brandy has beenpoisoned, eh?'
"'What do you mean?' I cried.
"'The brandy is poisoned.'
"'Who has poisoned it?'
"'Who but the bigwigs themselves.'
"'Fire and flames! here goes!' I shouted in my horror, and forthwith,just to show my indignation, I seized and emptied every glass I couldget hold of one after the other.
"'Poison, eh!' says I, 'poison! how can it be poison if I drink it? I'mas alive as ever I was, ain't I?'
"'Well,' says that squinting blockhead Hamza, 'if there's no poison inthat cask there is in the other, so draw us some out of that, Samsi!'
"But Samsi durst not leave the room, he made out that an ague wasshaking him, so his wife went instead of him down into the cellar in thepresence of the two sworn jurors, and brought a sample for tasting outof every cask. I assure your honour it was very hard upon me, for brandydoes not suit me at all, yet, out of gratitude to your honour, I drankall this new stuff likewise. It is a marvel to me that I didn't grovelon the ground and root up the earth with my nose, so much did I drink.
"'Well,' cried I, 'should I not be dead by this time if there was reallypoison in it?'
"All that squinting Hamza could say in reply was:
"'Well, if there's none in to-day there will be some in to-morrow.'
"'Very well,' says I, 'I will come to-morrow also, and the day afterto-morrow likewise; and, in fact, every day, and I'll taste every one ofyour drinks, one after the other, and show you that I'm none the worse.'
"Those were my very words. And I'll do it too, your honour, that I will,although it will be very hard upon me, for I can't abide spirits. But Iwon't allow your honour's noble family, to whom I owe so much, to bemaligned by any pack of boors in the world."
Old Hetfalusy let the Leather-bell rattle on, perhaps he did not evenlisten to him. He paid as little attention to the tongue of theLeather-bell as he did to the clapper of the bell that hung in thechurch tower, perhaps less. For, indeed, in the solemn sonorousding-dong, ding-dong of the church bell, those who have ears to hear,and still preserve memories of the past, may recognise the voices of thedead telling them all manner of mysterious things.
The brilliant exposition of the Leather-bell was interrupted by thearrival of Dr. Sarkantyus, who drove into the courtyard in a wretchedchaise, dragged along by a couple of rustic nags, and immediatelyhastened up to the Squire.
The Leather-bell hastened forthwith to the chaise in order to take outthe doctor's things, and as it was his ambition to load himself with asmany boxes and packages as he could seize upon before the arrival of thedomestic heydukes, he managed in his excess of zeal to drop three of theparcels on to the ground, one of which immediately burst asunder, and astream of whitish powder poured forth upon the marble floor.
The doctor turned upon him furiously.
"Am I not always telling you not to load yourself so much? You see theresult, all my bismuth powder wasted."
"I'll soon pick it all up again," said the Leather-bell submissively,and going down on his hambones he began sweeping into the palm of hishand what had been spilt and putting it back with the rest.
At this the doctor was ready to thrash him on the spot.
"What! mix what is all full of dust with what is still pure
--go to thedevil!"
"I humbly crave your pardon, doctor, but wouldn't it do for the cattle?"asked the mischief-maker with an obsequious smile.
"Cattle indeed! Does the fellow suppose I carry about drugs for pigs andoxen."
"I mean there's so much of it."
"None too much for such cattle as you, but now what has been spilt mustbe swept away."
And the doctor snatched the damaged box from the fellow's hands, andhastened into the house with it.
The Leather-bell remained kneeling on the ground, staring amazedly withfoolish, wide-open eyes at the spilt powder. Then he moistened the tipof his index-finger in his mouth, and dipping it gingerly in the powder,transferred a tiny morsel thereof to the tip of his tongue, andinstantly fell expectorating in every direction. At last he franticallyscraped a good bit of it together, drew his handkerchief from hisbreast-pocket, shovelled a portion of the suspicious substance into it,looking round cautiously all the time in case anyone should see him,then shuffled out of the hall, departed from the courtyard by way of thegarden, and, once free of the house, set off running rapidly towardsthe inn on the outskirts of the village, as if the most fleet-footed ofhorrors were behind him, his head, as usual, being a good yard or so inadvance of his feet.
When he entered the tavern it never once struck him how very calm andpeaceful it happened to be there at that particular moment. Mr. MartinCsicseri, the village justice, was sitting at the head of the table, andbefore him on the table lay his long hazel stick.
"I wish you a very good evening, my dear Mr. Justice and good Mr.Comrade, if I may make so free. 'Tis a good job you are here. And wheremay Hamza and Spletyko be?"
The village justice regarded him angrily.
"They are in a very good place where they will do no mischief--thestocks."
"Really? Well, they will certainly be well looked after there. All thesame it is a great shame they are not here just now." Then, lowering hisvoice mysteriously, he added: "Well, my honoured comrade, I myself cannow say that it is all up with us."
"How is it all up with us?" inquired Martin Csicseri, leaning bothelbows heavily on the table.
"Oh, it's all up with us in every way, all up, all up!" wailed theLeather-bell, rapidly pacing up and down the room, and pressing his headbetwixt his hands. "It is all up with the whole village."
"Will you tell me how it is all up with us, you old woman, you. Are youaware that this stick has an end to it, and I am very much inclined togive it some work to do on your back this instant?"
The fellow made as if he would simply answer the justice's question, yetall the while he kept glancing about him timidly, till five or sixinquisitive rustics had also gathered around him, only then did heexclaim in a strident whisper: "The poison has already arrived!"
"You're a fool!" cried the justice, starting back as he spoke.
"I am not. I have seen and tasted it, and I have brought some of it withme. The doctor himself admitted that the county authorities had sent alarge trunk of poison hither, and were going to make us drink it. Thebox was in my hand. I lifted it down from the carriage. DivineProvidence so ordered that it fell from my hands, and a whitish powderpoured out of it. The whole box was full of that powder. The doctor washorribly frightened, and swore at me like anything for my clumsiness. I_saw_ him, I tell you, he grew quite yellow. I merely asked whether thismedicine might not be for the cattle, but he savagely snatched it frommy hand, and said he would make our heads ache with it."
"Is that true?" asked a terrified boor on the other side of the table.
"As true as I'm alive. The doctor immediately ordered the domestics tosweep the spilt powder away lest one of the animals should taste it andperish instantly; but I managed to scrape together a little of itfirst, and here it is in the corner of my handkerchief."
And the Leather-bell undid his handkerchief and poured the powder outupon the table.
The boors, with the fearful inquisitiveness of professed connoisseurs,carefully regarded the strange awe-inspiring powder from every side--sothis was the murderous instrument of extirpation.
Some of them had heard, somewhere or other, that it was usual to makepreliminary experiments with such poisons on the brute-beasts. One ofthem accordingly smeared a piece of bread with the powder, and offeredit to a large shepherd's dog extended at his ease beneath the table. Thedog sniffed at the morsel but would not touch it.
"Poison! poison!" cried those who stood around full of horror.
"Didn't I say so!" cried the Leather-bell, with a radiant face; but hisjoyful triumph was very speedily embittered, for when he least expectedsuch a distinction, he became sensible that the long hazel cudgel of thevillage justice was unmercifully belabouring his back and shoulders.
"You good-for-nothing, lying wind-bag you, how dare you calumniate yourown landlord? You hound of the whole village, you! that barks at everyman behind his back, and licks his hand when he faces you. You dare tocome hither with such idle stories at a time when there's already fartoo much discord among the people! You good-for-nothing vagabond! What!I suppose you want the peasant folks to beat the landlords to death,burn their castles to the ground, and rob them of everything? Coward andrebel as you are, the gallows-tree is far too good for you. I tell youwhat it is. I'll put you in irons and send you to the county jail, andthere you may sit till your turn comes to stand before the judges. Youincendiary, you!"
The Leather-bell was thoroughly scared, he began to hedge.
"Alas! my dear sweet Mr. Justice, and my good friend, don't be angry!God bless me! Why should I wish our landlord beaten to death? Godpreserve us from anything so dreadful."
"Who are you aiming at then?"
"I? Nobody at all. Not for all the world would I injure anyone. Oh, dearno! I only opened my mouth in order that every poor mother's son of usmight look out for himself and guard himself, that's all."
"Guard himself!--from what?"
"From danger."
"And who told you there was any danger here? Don't you know that thedoctor has a long way to go, and many people to cure, and must thereforecarry a great many drugs along with him? And you, you senseless ass!dropped one of his medicine boxes, spilt the contents, and instantlyjumped at the conclusion that it was poison! Poison! your grandmother!It is true, no doubt, that if a man in health takes medicine he willhave stomach-ache for his pains, but if he be sick the same medicinewill cure him. Every fool knows that. Drugs are not good to eat."
A couple of the more sensible peasants murmured approvingly behind him.The Leather-bell stood confounded before the magistrate, and made a sortof downward movement with his hat as if he would have liked to scatterto the winds the little bit of powder still lying on the table.
"And now tell me, you seditious idiot, what might not have happened ifthese honest men here had not had their wits about them? What if theyhad believed the horrible accusation spread by you and a few morevagabond busybodies of the same kidney? What if in their mad terror theyhad fallen foul of your young landlord, who has done you so much good,and shot him dead before your eyes? What if they had dragged his father,the old squire, out of bed in his nightshirt, and burnt him to death?What would you have done then, you good-for-nothing? I suppose you wouldhave sharpened the knife that cut their throats?"
The knees of the Leather-bell smote together; he stammered piteouslythat he had had no idea that such horrible things would follow from whathe said, that he had, in fact, not been thinking at all of what he wassaying.
"Well, you will have plenty of time to think it over when you aresitting in the county jail."
The Leather-bell begged and prayed that he might not be sent there,rather shove him in the stocks alongside Hamza. He admitted that hedeserved it; but if they liked to give him twenty or thirty blows with astick instead, he would take it kindly of them. He had meant no harm,and he would never spread any more such rumours.
Meanwhile, no one had remarked that the tap-room had gradually beenfilling with silent, savage-looking forms,
one of whom, while listeningattentively to the conversation, began sweeping the suspicious-lookingpowder into the palm of his hand.
Mr. Martin Csicseri was so far moved by the piteous lamentations of theLeather-bell as to promise not to cast him into irons and send him tothe county jail as a fomenter of sedition.
"But you shall, at any rate, sit in the stocks till morning, my friend!"added he. "Hie, you sworn jurymen, come forward and convey him thither."
"Nay, not that man!" cried a voice from the crowd, and the magistratebeheld Thomas Bodza advancing towards him--by the side of the longtable.
"Whom then?" cried he.
"Whom but yourself!" exclaimed Numa Pompilius, accompanying his wordswith the gesture of a Roman Senator.
For the moment it occurred to the magistrate that the worthy rector whowas not, as a rule, addicted to strong drink, had actually, for once,taken more of the noble juice of the grape than was quite good for him,so he simply laughed at him. All the more astonished, therefore, was hewhen, at a sign from the master, two strange men rushed upon him andseized his hands fast.
He had never seen their faces before, they were men who did not belongto the village.
"What's the meaning of this, eh?" he thundered, giving one of them arattling box on the ear and knocking the other down. It was of no use.Ten at least instantly threw themselves upon him, seized his hands andfeet, threw him to the ground and bound him fast. One or two of hisacquaintances tried to defend him but were thrust aside.
So long as the tussle lasted, Thomas Bodza stood upon the table with thepose of a capitoline statue, whence he exclaimed in a dictatorial voice:
"It is now for me to command."
The pinioned magistrate continued to curse and swear, and threaten therioters till they shoved a gag into his mouth. As for the Leather-bell,he hid himself behind the fireplace partly to avoid blows, partly from afear that this business would have unpleasant consequences, and he mightbe called upon to give evidence. He wanted neither to hear nor seeanything more.