The Red, White, and Green

by Herbert Hayens

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  _COUNT BEULA DISLIKES HANGING._

  Batori Gabor stood at the door of the inner room, and with theinstinctive courtesy of the Magyar bade me welcome.

  This famous brigand, who for years had lived an outlaw's life, was talland strongly built, with massive limbs and deep, capacious chest. Hisface was bronzed and rugged; his black hair hung in curls over hisshoulders; his eyes were dark, fiery, and searching.

  He had laid aside his steel cuirass; but a brace of pistols peeped fromhis richly-ornamented girdle, and I doubted not they were both loaded.

  "The Austrians overload me with favours," he exclaimed laughingly. "Youare the second guest I am indebted to them for.--Count, I think you saidCaptain Botskay was an acquaintance of yours?"

  Hitherto I had not noticed that Batori Gabor had a companion in theroom; now I saw a man in military uniform sitting at the table.

  At the outlaw's words he rose, and, turning toward me, showed the blueeyes and handsome, cynical features of Count Beula.

  "This is a surprise, count," I said coldly. "I thought a clever manlike yourself would by now be over the border with Kossuth."

  "How strange!" he answered lightly. "I concluded you had found refugewith Goergei's Russian friends."

  "Yet you are both with Batori Gabor," broke in the brigand cheerfully;"which is stranger still, since a month ago either of you would have hadhim shot like a dog."

  "Not I, my dear Gabor," murmured Beula sweetly. "I appreciate yourcourage too much."

  "And my knowledge of the country," added Gabor slyly.

  "Well, yes. I think that may be turned to very good account, tillHaynau has grown tired of his butcher's knife."

  "Which will not be soon. We are, however, keeping Captain Botskay fromhis supper--an unpardonable offence."

  Opening the door, he ordered an extra knife and fork. Then he invited meto sit, saying, "The table's rather crowded, captain; but we have allour courses laid at once. It isn't a banquet, but you'll find it betterthan black bread and bacon. Help yourself. I can recommend the salmon,because one of my fellows caught it this evening. I fancy the veal hasdone a breadth or two of ploughing in its time; but the chicken'stender."

  The outlaw certainly proved a most attentive and courteous host, andenlivened the meal by relating some of the most humorous and inoffensiveof his adventures.

  During the war he had turned patriot, and had really done the enemy agreat deal of mischief by cutting off convoys and intercepting mountedmessengers.

  After supper he went to give his orders for the night; and I, not caringto remain alone with Count Beula, borrowed a lantern, and strolled outto the shed which served as a stable.

  There were nine or ten horses in the place, and I noticed that saddlesand bridles were all hung so that they might readily be got at.

  My own animal had received an ample allowance of food, and, after anight's rest, would, I reckoned, be in capital trim.

  I might have stayed longer to get a better look at the robbers' horses,but the big dog sniffed so longingly at my legs that I thought it bestto remove temptation from his path.

  Batori Gabor returned at the same time, and one of the band brought insome wine of a quality rarely found outside a nobleman's house.

  "Been to look at your horse, captain?" he asked. "Sensible that, seeingyou may have to trust your life to its speed.--Well, count, I think wemay reckon on a quiet night. Andras has returned, and says theAustrians are sound asleep.

  "I should feel easier if we were twenty miles farther on," answered thecount.

  "So should I, for that matter; but the horses were bound to have a longrest. Meanwhile we may as well make ourselves comfortable.--CaptainBotskay, a glass of wine? By the way, you have not yet told us how youcome to be in this part of the country. I should fancy this a veryunhealthy spot for persons of your habits of life," and he laughed athis little joke quite pleasantly.

  "The tale will not take long in telling," I said. "The general sent meto Nagy Sandor at Debreczin, where I had a nasty knock which laid me upfor several days. Then I followed the army, arriving at Vilagos just intime to see the surrender."

  "But after that?"

  "I started for Nagy Kikinda, where they say the 9th Honveds have beentaken."

  "Looking for Rakoczy?" asked the count, and I nodded.

  "You wouldn't guess what a hero our friend is," remarked the count toBatori Gabor. "He is actually risking his life on the chance of findingout what has become of John Rakoczy, colonel of the 9th Honveds."

  "Then you're a very gallant fellow, Captain Botskay," said the outlaw;"though I must stop you from playing such a mad prank. Do you know thatevery road in your path is barred by Austrian troops? You cannotpossibly get past them; and if you could, the journey would be useless."

  "Still, I intend trying."

  Batori Gabor shrugged his shoulders. The count laughed in the sneeringmanner which always made me anxious to pitch him out of the window.

  "You must be fonder of a hempen rope than I," he said; "but perhaps yourname isn't on the proscribed list?"

  "I don't know."

  "Well, mine is."

  "And mine," laughed Gabor. "It's been there for years. It doesn't hurtme in the least. I look on it as an honour."

  "Every man to his taste," said the count. "I have no fancy to die in ahempen collar. I am no coward, but the thought of being hanged like adog by these Austrian butchers puts me in a bath of perspiration."

  "You came pretty near it yesterday."

  The count shuddered.

  "Don't," said he; "it gives me an ague fit to think of it."

  I pointed out that he was probably alarming himself without reason, asthe Austrians were not likely to do more than put him in prison for afew months.

  Batori shook his head.

  "You're wrong there, captain," cried he. "The count and I row in thesame boat, and capture means death. We are to be strung up to thenearest tree or beam capable of bearing our weight by those who catchus. The very notion of it puts the count into a flutter."

  Now I had once thought Count Beula a coward, and had been obliged to ownmy mistake; yet at this talk of Austrian vengeance his face becamewhite, and he trembled like a leaf. He tried to laugh it off, sayingthat Goergei was in the right of it, surrendering to the Russians.

  "He would have done a sharper thing by slipping into Turkey with Kossuthand his friends," I made answer.

  "There you are," exclaimed our bandit friend. "That's what lost the warbefore it began. Two sets of leaders, and two objects to fight for;why, it's worse than having two captains over one band. However, it'sdone now, and not worth quarrelling about. We have to save our heads--afar more important matter."

  "I am going to look for Colonel Rakoczy in the morning."

  "Are you? Well, excuse the plain speech, captain--you're a fool. Theexercise of my profession has made me acquainted with this part of thecountry, and even I could not venture a mile southward without beingcaptured. The Austrians are stopping every pass and blocking everyhole; they think Kossuth is still in the district. Why, but for me, ourfriend here would at this very moment be swinging in the wind, and, atthe best, we half foundered our horses in getting him away. However,they are recovering, and to-morrow night will see us safe. You'd betterjoin us, and wait your chance."

  "You may spare your breath," sneered Count Beula. "He'll go his own wayin the end. He comes of an obstinate race."

  "Well, well, we'll give him the chance to ride with us," replied Batori."If he prefers being killed, that's his affair. Now I'm going to sleepfor an hour, and advise you to do the same."

  He lay down in a corner of the room, pulled his cloak round him, and inless than two minutes was sleeping soundly.

  "Behold!" exclaimed the count, laughing in his detestable manner, "thebeauty of possessing an easy conscience."

  I made no reply, being engaged in w
rapping myself up; and apparently noreply was expected.

  The count was evidently in a state of great anxiety, and several timesduring our brief rest wakened me by passing into the next room, as if hewent to see that all was right.

  I could not understand the man. He was so different from the CountBeula who had displayed such gallantry at the storming of Buda. In thebreach no danger had unnerved him; here he blenched at the hint of it,and I attributed the difference to his dread of being hanged.

  However, in spite of his restlessness, I managed at last to fall into asound sleep, and was dreaming that Rakoczy and I were safe at Gyula,when some one pulled me roughly to my feet.

  The candles had burned out, but the dawn was stealing through the onelittle window, and by its light I recognized Batori Gabor. His face wasflushed and excited; he had put on his cap and cuirass, had buckled onhis sword, and was equally ready to fight or fly.

  "Quick!" cried he, not in panic, but in such tones as you might expectfrom a man accustomed to carry his life in his hands. "To the stables!The Austrians are out!"

  I looked for the count. He had already disappeared.

  Picking up my mantle, I ran into the kitchen. It was empty, save forthe frightened innkeeper and his wife, who stood half-dressed, wringingtheir hands and shivering.

  I was rushing to the door when the man, as if in desperation, seized apiece of rope which lay in the corner and flung himself before me.

  Thinking he meant mischief, I touched my sword; but his action was theeffect of fear.

  "My lord," he cried, "we shall be murdered. Have mercy, for the sake ofHeaven, and bind us. Then they will know that we harboured the 'poorlads' unwillingly."

  "You have a kind face, my sweet master," added the trembling woman; "mayyour heart match it."

  I thought the proposed stratagem a clumsy one; but the poor people werein such deadly earnest that I took the rope and proceeded to tie thewoman.

  In the midst of it the door was flung open violently, and quick asthought I drew my pistol and covered the intruder.

  It was the outlaw, who had come to seek me.

  "Well," cried he; "of all the fools!" Then, checking himself, he gotanother coil of rope and bound the inn-keeper deftly.

  "One makes more," said he, finishing as soon as I. "Come on. There's notime for philanthropy. The men are howling with impatience, and CountBeula's nearly off his head."

  The band was mounted, and one of them at his leader's command hadsaddled my horse.

  They looked a rough set with their lances and loaded axes and lassos,which they carried before them on their saddles.

  The chief sprang into his seat; I followed suit, and off we went--CountBeula well to the fore.

  I looked down the road, expecting to see the Austrians; but, thanks toBatori's sentries, we had fully two minutes' start before they appeared.

  There were perhaps fifty of them, and they rode like men secure of theirprey; but our horses were fresh, and, being all picked animals, easilyincreased their lead.

  A pistol shot or two came singing after us, but without doing mischief,and Batori laughed derisively at the enemy's efforts.

  "Take it easy, my lads," he shouted. "Those old screws wouldn't catchus between this and Debreczin, if we walked all the way."

  This, of course, was not exactly correct; but there could be littledoubt that, by putting our animals to their utmost speed, we could shakeoff our pursuers at almost any time.

  Even Beula noticed this, and, though his face was still pale, he droppedback to us.

  "Another miss of the halter, count," cried the brigand cheerfully;"you're in luck's way. But I'll tell you what it is--you set my men avery bad example;" and I fancied there was a note of anger in his voice.

  The count shook off his strange fear for a moment, saying with some ofhis old jauntiness, "They are more familiar with the noose than I."

  "Bah!" cried the robber in disgust; "if you had not gained praise fromBern, I should say you were a rank coward."

  "As a bandit, perhaps I am," he replied; a remark at which Batori,instead of showing anger, only laughed.

  That Count Beula could on occasion be brave as a lion I already knew,and he was yet to give me another proof.

  We were, as I have said, distancing the cavalry in our rear, when a loudshout proclaimed a new and more serious danger.

  The Austrians, by dividing their forces, had cleverly placed us betweentwo fires.

  A second body, instead of entering the village, had worked round to theright, and now debouched into the road in front of us; while theircomrades, who had purposely held their horses back, dashed up at fullspeed.

  The robber chief took in the situation at a glance.

  "Trapped!" said he; "and in the very worst place. Smart fellow, thatAustrian."

  At the certainty of a desperate fight Count Beula lost his paleness.His face glowed with healthy excitement; he looked round on the band ofbrigands as if he were leading a regiment.

  At the first sight of the enemy we had, almost without thinking,slackened our pace, and now Batori halted us altogether.

  Riding to the front, he turned to his men.

  "My lads," said he, "we're in a hole; but it isn't the first. You knowwhat happens on these occasions. Those who get out will ride with meagain; those who don't--" And he concluded with a pantomimic gesturewhich made Beula shudder.

  "Elijen Batori!" shouted the bandits, and their leader smiled.

  The Austrians in the rear were spurring hard; but we took no notice ofthem, our attention being fixed on those in front. Could we break them?

  I had taken part in more than one cavalry charge against long odds, andto me the feat seemed impossible.

  Batori, however, showed little anxiety; while his men were almost ascool as he was.

  Sword in hand, Count Beula took his place on the right of the leader; Irode at his left.

  There were no unnecessary orders. Every man knew he had to pierce thatbody of cavalry somehow, or be hanged to the nearest tree; and if theknowledge did not bring true courage, it at least sent every one intothe fight with a determination to get through.

  The bandits couched their lances, and dug their spurs deeply into thehorses' sides. Batori, who was evidently a superb horseman, rodewithout using the reins, having a sword in one hand and a loaded pistolin the other.

  The Austrians bided their time; and, as we drew nearer, it flashed intomy mind that their leader, who, but for a terrible scar across his face,would have been a handsome man, was none other than my old opponent, VonTheyer.

  There was likely to be a very short shrift for me if I fell into hishands; and, unfortunately, my uniform rendered me conspicuous. However,I had little time to think about what might happen; I was too muchengaged in what was happening.

  Count Beula struck the enemy first, and, but for a shot from Batori'spistol, that moment would have ended his career. I wished later it had.

  Crash we went into the midst of them, the long lances boring a passagefor their owners.

  Von Theyer made a dash at me, but was thrown back; and we did not getwithin sword-arm of each other during the fight.

  Still, I had ample work without troubling the Austrian leader, asseveral hussars, attracted no doubt by my uniform, made a desperateattempt to hem me in.

  A loud cry announced that one man had got through.

  It was Batori; but he dashed back into the _melee_ in order to rescue awounded follower.

  His men, raised to the highest pitch of enthusiasm by this sight, shooktheir opponents off and spurred to the spot.

  A young Austrian officer--a sublieutenant, I judged--rode at mefuriously, leaving me barely time to parry his stroke.

  Turning, he came again, when a terrific blow from a loaded hatchetbrought his horse to the ground--dead.

  The youngster scrambled to his feet and attacked his new enemy; but thebandit pushed on to join his leader, and I followed with Count Beula.

  We two we
re the last to leave the press, and the Austrians were hot onour heels.

  Von Theyer led the van, though he had been badly wounded, and his facewas covered with blood.

  Now that the brunt of the fight was over, my companion seemed again tofall under the spell of his strange fear, being blind to everythingexcept escaping.

  He spurred his horse cruelly, until the animal, maddened by pain, dartedahead, and I was left alone.

  Von Theyer, yards in advance of his hussars, galloped on; and I heardhim shouting, but could not distinguish the words.

  Fortunately, my pistols were still loaded, and, drawing one from theholster, I turned in my saddle and fired.

  Von Theyer was not hit; but his gallant horse, staggering forward adozen paces, reeled and fell.

  The hussars stayed to extricate their leader, and the delay gave me alittle breathing space.

  Once again I wheeled and rode on in pursuit of Count Beula, while a shotfrom a carbine whistled past my head.

  Two others followed in quick succession, doing no harm--at least, thatwas my impression.

  Rather strangely though, it appeared to me that the count was slackeningspeed, and soon I became certain of it.

  The distance between us decreased. I was catching him up hand overhand; the thing was amazing.

  I hoped at first his manhood had come back to him, and that he waitedpurposely for me; but soon I recognized the truth.

  One of the shots intended for me had struck his horse in the haunches,and the poor animal, losing blood at every stride, was growing feeblereach succeeding moment.

  The bandits--at least those who survived--were a little ahead of us; thepursuers were closing up again; my companion was doomed.

  He knew it too. His face had become ashy grey, his eyes were wild andstaring; the Count Beula of the breach and the battlefield haddisappeared.

  "They will hang me, Botskay," he wailed--"hang me like a common thief onthe roadside."

  The terror of the hempen noose, about which Batori had chaffed him, hadaffected his brain--upset his balance, so to speak. I can give no otherexplanation of his strange behaviour or of what happened immediatelyafterwards.

  Batori, looking back, waved his arm to bid us ride faster; but Beula'shorse was totally exhausted, and with one last ineffectual staggerforward it rolled over, entangling its rider in the reins.

  A shout from the Austrians greeted this downfall, and the count's whiteface looked up appealingly.

  "They will hang me, Botskay!" he cried, and I regarded the cry as onefor help.

  The Austrians were close upon us. There was barely time even to set himfree; and what then?

  Was I to die because the man I hated asked an impossible thing?

  It was monstrous; it was out of all reason. I would push on and save myown life. Count Beula had no claim on me.

  The struggle was keen and full of bitter anguish, but it was over in asecond; the next I had slipped to the ground and was tugging at thefallen man.