CHAPTER VIII.
THE BEGGAR BOY'S SONG.
Michael found himself very well off in his new quarters; and as nothinghappened to explain the king's whim, he was confirmed in his belief thatits only object was to make him more comfortable.
He was very punctual in attending to all his duties, and inspected thegarrison very frequently, but he spent a good many of his spare hours inreading and study. For the king liked men of learning and cultivation,and Michael was bent upon pleasing him in these matters if he could.
Being in Buda, with a little time on his hands, gave him a capitalopportunity of improving himself; for he had become acquainted with theking's great friend the librarian Galeotti, and through him he now madeacquaintance with the famous library which Matthias was then formingunder the direction of Galeotti and his fellow-worker Ugoletti.
The library was in the castle, and consisted of two great halls, inwhich, by the end of his life, the king had collected above fiftythousand volumes. He was constantly buying up valuable manuscripts inItaly, Constantinople, and Asia; and he kept a number of men constantlyemployed in copying--four in Florence and thirty in Buda.
The manuscripts were many of them beautifully illuminated and adornedwith tasteful initials and pictures, and frequently with likenesses ofthe king and his wife, so that they were valuable as works of art.
The art of printing, too, had been lately introduced, and theprinting-press was kept constantly at work adding to the contents of thepolished cedar-wood book-shelves, which were protected by silken,gold-embroidered curtains: for Matthias treated his books royally and asif he loved them.
Besides books, the two halls contained three hundred statues, someancient and some modern; and in the vestibule were astronomical andmathematical instruments, with a large celestial globe in the centresupported by two genii.
Michael had abundant opportunities of study, and knew that he could notplease the king better than by availing himself of them. The Italianwhich he had learned from the grooms at Visegrad he now found mostuseful, as it enabled him to talk to the various artists, sculptors,musicians, and other distinguished men from Italy, whom the king lovedto have about him.
The two librarians of course he knew well; then there was the greatpainter Filippo Lippi, and the Florentine architect Averulino, by whomthe royal palaces both in Buda and Visegrad were beautified andenlarged. Carbo of Ferrara was writing a dialogue, in which he sang thepraises of King Matthias; Galeotti was busy with a book of entertainingstories, full of anecdotes and sayings of the king, to which Michaelcertainly might have contributed much that was interesting; Bonfinius ofAscoli, reader to the queen, was engaged upon his History of Hungary;and various Hungarian authors were composing their chronicles andwriting legends and poetry in Latin--that being still the language ofthe learned throughout Europe.
From the windows of his "prison" Michael had no view, as has been said,except of the other bastion, which was not particularly interesting, asit was uninhabited, so that he was not tempted to waste any time inlooking out of the window. But he had only to go into the palace gardenswhen he wanted to get away from his books and rest his eyes and brain;and these covered a great deal of ground, extending indeed as far as tothe neighbouring hills, then still covered with forests, where the king,who was an ardent sportsman, often went hunting.
Michael was sitting in the window one morning to eat his breakfast, whenhe chanced to look across to the opposite window, and saw, to his greatsurprise, that there was some one there, or at least he fancied that hesaw some one, but the glimpse was so momentary that he could not besure.
When one has nothing at all to look at, very small trifles become quiteimportant; and the idea that he might have, or be going to have,neighbours was quite exciting. Certainly the king had said somethingabout it, but hitherto he had seen no one.
In a fit of curiosity, Michael opened the window and looked out fromtime to time while he went on with his meal. Once he thought he saw someone flit past it again; but he had to hurry off to his military dutiesbefore he could make out whether the rooms were really occupied or not.
When he came back, the very first thing he did was to go up to thewindow again; and at last his curiosity was gratified, at least to someextent, for two persons were there--two women, one seated at a littleembroidery-frame, and the other standing over her, looking at her work.Their faces were hidden from him at first, but from their dress andfigures he could see that one was elderly and the other quite young.Presently the younger one raised her head from her work and looked up,and from the momentary glance which he had of her features, Michaelfancied that he had seen her before somewhere or other. He could not forthe moment think where it could have been, for it was the merest glimpsehe had of her face before she looked down again.
He must not be so rude as to watch; but he could not resist anoccasional glance as long as they were there. In another quarter of anhour, however, both figures had disappeared, and Michael saw no more ofthem. But the discovery that he had neighbours was quite exciting, andhe was so much interested that he shook his head with some impatiencewhen he found the window deserted in the afternoon. Till this eventoccurred, Michael had been in the habit of spending as short a time aspossible within doors, and was most eager to mount his horse as soon asever he had finished the work which he had set himself for the day. Butnow he was so consumed with curiosity that he actually kept his steedwaiting a whole quarter of an hour later than usual, while he watchedfor the reappearance of the ladies.
But it was all to no purpose. For a moment he caught sight of a whitehand raised, either to fasten the window or to point to something, butthe next instant this too had disappeared. He was on the watch againwhen he returned home, taking care, however, to stand or sit where hecould not be seen; and the next day and the next it was the same. Hespent so much time in watching, indeed, that he got quite angry withhimself at last; and then he would go out riding, and come back quitevexed and out of sorts.
"Bother it all!" he thought to himself; "of course I shall see her againsooner or later if she is there."
He was standing in his usual place again one evening, when he saw twoshadows move away from the opposite window in the most tantalizingmanner, and he felt so hopeful that he sat down to watch at his ease.If tobacco had been known in those days, no doubt he would have lightedhis pipe or a cigar; but as it was not, he had nothing to consolehimself with, and could only sit and "look for King David and his harp"in the moon, as the saying is.
All at once he fancied that he really did hear him playing his harp inhis silver palace. There were sounds of some sort--soft, sweet sounds,which came floating towards him on the air; and he thought to himselfthat he had surely heard the plaintive melody with its vibrating chordssomewhere before.
"To be sure! I have got it!" he said to himself. "I know now _where_!But, of course, others might know the air.--Eh! what's that, though?" heexclaimed, as a sweet, young, bell-like voice now began to accompany theinstrument, and he heard one of the very songs which he had himselfcomposed in the days which now seemed so long ago.
That Miska the beggar boy should be a popular poet will astonish no onewho knows how many of the popular songs of Hungary have had their originin the humble cottages of the peasantry, in the course of pastcenturies. Every village has its poet, who is also frequently a musicalcomposer as well. He sings his songs at the village merry-makings toairs of his own invention, and the gipsies, who are always present onsuch occasions to play for the dancers, accompany him on their fiddles.If they take a fancy to the air, they will remember it, and inventvariations to it, and in this way it will be preserved and become partof their stock.
"One life, one God, One home, one love,"
sang Michael's opposite neighbour, in a voice of great beauty andsweetness.
"It's Esther! it must be Esther!" cried the young man, starting to hisfeet in great excitement. "Esther!" he said, and a flush mounted to hisface; "but here, _here_, actually here, opposite m
e? Impossible! I mustsee her and make sure. No one could know that song, though, but herself;I made it for her, and no one else ever had it, at least from me."
Often and often Michael had wondered what had become of his littlefriend and the other inhabitants of the castle; but whenever he hadventured to hint an inquiry as to Mr. Samson's fate, or had tried tofind out anything about the rest, the king had turned the subject, andavoided giving him any direct answer. Of course it was out of thequestion to press the matter, so that he had known positively nothingof what had happened ever since the eventful night when he had left thecastle. But though his life had been a very busy one, and many fresh newinterests had come into it, he had never forgotten the one pleasantacquaintance whom he had made in Mr. Samson's grim castle. He walkedacross towards the window now full of eagerness; but the singer, whosevoice he thought he recognized, was sitting in such a provoking way thathe could not see her face, and he had been careful to manage so that sheshould not see him either. Presently he stopped, with his foot on thewindow-sill, and then took another step forward, which apparentlystartled the singer, for the song ceased abruptly, and a ratherfrightened face looked up at him.
"It is you!" cried the young officer, in impetuous delight; and "Is ityou?" said the girl, more quietly, but with a flush of pleasure.
"Well, did ever one see!" exclaimed a sharp voice behind Esther."Jancsi! [Johnnie!] how ever did you get here?"
"It is I indeed, my little demoiselle," said Michael, in the utmostsurprise. "But I am quite bewildered. How did you come here?"
"Did not you know that the king had sent for me here to Buda?"
"The king!" said the young man, and a shadow crossed his face; "when?what for?--and have you seen the king?"
"Three questions at once," said Esther, laughing. "Well, really I don'tknow anything more than that we came here under the escort of an oldgentleman whom I don't know; and the king quartered us here, where wehave been now three days, but I have not yet seen His Highness. Godbless him! for I am as free here, and as happy," she went on, blushingstill more, "as if I had been born again. But come in; why do you standthere in the window? We are neighbours, you know, as we used to be, andneighbours ought to be on good terms with one another."
Michael felt as if he were dreaming, but naturally he did not wait to beasked twice; and the old woman, who had shown a marked liking for himbefore while he was in Samson's castle, welcomed him now with thegreatest cordiality.
"Why, Jancsi, stay a bit," said she, "and let me look at you! Why, whata smart lad you have turned into, to be sure! What fine buttons you haveon your dolmany! and--well, I declare, you have a watch too! 'Yourlentils must have sold' uncommonly well in the time; and just tell usnow how you came to 'climb the cucumber-tree' so quickly, will you?"[12]
[Footnote 12: To "sell one's lentils well" and to "climb thecucumber-tree" mean to get on in the world and make one's fortunequickly.]
"Ah, auntie, that would take a long time to tell; but we'll have itanother time. All I can tell you now is that I owe everything to thegood king, and I would go through the fire for him; for my whole life,every moment of it, belongs to him."
Then in a few words he told them his history since the time when he hadleft the castle with Samson, and had so given Esther some hope ofrelease.
"It is strange," said Esther thoughtfully, "that the king should haveput us here opposite one another, and should have had these gloomybastions put in order and made so habitable just for us."
"Very," said Michael. "I am surprised myself, and I don't understand it,especially as the king asked me yesterday, laughing, whether I had yetmade acquaintance with my neighbour? But what is the good of troublingone's head about it? I am heartily glad, anyway; and you, Esther, areyou pleased too? tell me."
The girl blushed a little, and giving Michael her hand, said: "Whyshouldn't I be glad? I am sure I could not have come across a betterneighbour, and it is to you most certainly that I owe my freedom."
The young officer sighed. "Indirectly, yes," he said; and then in alower tone he added, "And the king might have entrusted you to mycharge; I might have had the pleasure of bringing you here. However,when I had captured Mr. Samson, before I came back to the king, I showedthe way in and out of the castle to the Jew whom Mr. Samson had intendedto relieve of his pack, so it was easy enough then to get in and takepossession."
"Of course," said Esther, "it did not need any very great valour tosteal in at midnight and seize the place."
"And what has become of Mr. Samson? the king has never told me a wordmore about him."
"What has become of him? I should think he was safe in one of the king'sprisons."
"Dear Esther, do tell me what happened; I am burning to know how it allcame about."
"Well, when a few weeks had passed and Mr. Samson did not come home, weall began to think that something had happened to him, and that he hadperished for good and all. And then one midnight we heard a great noiseof shouting and the clash of arms, and then Mr. Rozgonyi came andmentioned your name, and I let him into my room. For I was sofrightened, not knowing what was going on, that I had treble-bolted thedoor and put the bar up; but when I heard your name, of course I knew itwas all right, and I opened it at once."
"And what of the castle?"
"Mr. Rozgonyi did not allow much time for questions. He just said thathe had brought some stone-masons with him; and apparently they had cometo pull down and not to build, at least in the first place, for he woundup by saying that the king was going to have the stones used to build achurch and monastery in the nearest village. There would be enough forthree, I should think!"
"And did Miss Esther ever think of the poor beggar boy?"
"To be sure! But I thought more of the valiant Alpari Janos [John], whowas so brave as to come into Mr. Samson's hiding-place, and then soclever as to get the wicked tyrant into his hands. But, Sir Knight, Ifelt afraid of you too, and I must confess that I am rather afraid ofyou still. For--you are certainly very clever at pretending and makingbelieve to be what you are not; and when one finds it all out, how isone to believe anything you may say?"
"Good Esther!" said Michael, looking a little shamefaced, "but didn't Ikeep my promise to you? I said you should be released, and you were."
"True," admitted Esther.
"And if I acted the part of a dissembler with Mr. Samson, I was not myown master, you know; I belonged to the king, and was obeying hisorders, not following my own fancies and wishes. But as regardsyourself, I have never dissembled at all, from the time when first Ibegan to make your acquaintance, and it rests with you to put mysincerity to the test."
"How do you mean? But I see we have been chattering away a longtime.--Euphrosyne, light the candles.--And you, sir, must go, if youplease; we have talked enough for to-day."
But though Esther dismissed him now, no day passed after this withouthis coming to see her; and both she and Euphrosyne seemed to be alwaysglad to see him and to listen to all he had to tell them, first abouthis own life and adventures, and the king whom he was never tired ofextolling, and then about the day's incidents, his work and his studies,and what was going on in Buda; for they lived very quietly, and saw andheard but little of the outside world. Often, too, Esther would bringout her harp and play and sing. Her voice had gained in power andrichness during the past two or three years, and she had had someteaching from one of the king's musicians; but nothing pleased Michaelso well as to hear her sing the favourite old songs which he rememberedof old, except--to hear her sing his own.
King Matthias and the Beggar Boy Page 8