The Strange Story of Rab Ráby Read online

  CHAPTER IV.

  Now what had really happened to the coach was that it had lost one ofthe big screws out of the hind wheel, so that the latter had come off.For a whole hour had they hunted for the screw without success, and thenthey tried to get on without it, but that was a difficult business. If apeasant loses a wheel-nail, he can easily find a substitute; the screwof a coach, however, is not so easily replaced. What straps and ropesthey had to hand were knotted and wound round the axle, but the quicklyrotating nave had in a few minutes torn all to shreds, and would not goround properly, much to the detriment of the horses who now had to dragthe lumbering conveyance with a wheel that would not work, through thetough, sticky morass, which made the way much more toilsome.

  Not that this affected the merry mood of the president as he took hisplace inside. Every now and again he whistled for sheer lightness ofheart.

  "Fire away, there!" he cried to the driver.

  But the driver was not equal to the task, as he urged his steeds overthe morass through which the four slow old hacks dragged the ricketyvehicle with its broken-down wheel.

  Meanwhile, on a hillock which rose tolerably steep from the roadside,waited a horseman mounted on a strong wiry beast, that stood with hismuzzle snuffing the ground like a setter scenting the trail, withwatchful eyes and pricked ears, but so still that he did not even brushoff the flies that settled on his withers and flanks. The man himself inthe saddle was equally motionless; he was dark and hawk-eyed, with curlyhair, and a tapering pointed moustache. He wore a peasant's garb thatwas scrupulously fine of its kind, his countryman's cloak being richlyembroidered, and his sleeves frilled with wide lace. In his cap he worea cluster of locks of women's hair and a knot of artificial flowers; athis girdle gleamed a pair of silver inlaid Turkish pistols, while fromthe pommel of his saddle hung another, double-barrelled, and in hisright hand he carried an axe. An alder-bush had hidden the stranger uptill now, so that he could not be seen by the coaching party till hehimself hailed them.

  "Now you traitor, you knave, are you going to stop or not?"

  Was the coachman going to stop? Yes indeed, he sprang down from his boxin terror, promptly crawled under the coach, and whimpered, "Alack, yourhonour, it's Gyongyom Miska himself, it is indeed!"

  The mounted cavalier pranced up to the coach, the noble charger tossinghis proud head to and fro, so that the harness-fringe flew round him.

  "Now we've got something to laugh at and no mistake," growled thecoachman. Yet he laughed too in spite of himself.

  The highwayman himself began to laugh as he accosted the president.

  "So you've recognised me, have you, for the celebrated Gyongyom Miska?"

  "How pray did you become Gyongyom Miska?"

  "Don't you remember me by that name? You yourself gave it me. Have youforgotten how when, years ago, in the County Assembly, I had begun aspeech, you called out to me in the middle of it, 'Ay, Gyongyom (myjewel), hold your peace; you understand no more of these things thanhalf a dozen oxen put together,' so that I could not get any 'forrader,'for people laughing at me. Since those days the name has stuck to me.Everywhere I go I am received with the greeting, 'Here's Gyongyom Miska,worse luck!' So then, I say to myself, 'I'll be a Gyongyom Miska,' andshow them such things as no one else can. And people talk about me,don't they?"

  "But you won't rob me, will you?" implored his victim. "Do you want myhorses?"

  "Make your mind easy. I rob nobody. I only take what is given me, andcarry off what the possessor does not value, and as for such wretchednags as you drive, I tell you plainly I wouldn't have them at a gift. Iam pretty hard to please in horseflesh, I can tell you. So don't let'swaste time in talking. I ask for nothing that people have not got. Iknow too that you are in a hurry. So just give me ten gold pieces, andthen you can drive on."

  The president did not wish to understand the hint, as he said sulkily,"What do you mean?"

  "Only those ten Kremnitz ducats that you drew as salary for your work onthe Bench."

  "True enough, friend, that I have received them, but the prefect wonthem from me at cards last night, and I haven't one left. He did notgive me back the money he had won. Turn out my pockets, search me if youwill, and if you find there anything but a bad groschen, it shall beyours. Here's my sword-pouch. See, there's nothing inside. And if youlike, you can take my boots off, but you'll find no gold there, I warnyou."

  The highwayman pressed his axe between his fingers, and tapped quitegently with the butt end of it on the crown of the president's head,where the velvet lining of his fur cap hung out. What was jinglinginside?

  The smile vanished from the lips of his victim. His round face becamesuddenly square with astonishment.

  Now there must be something wrong about that. Who had betrayed him? Noman knew it but one.

  Gyongyom Miska did not let him waste time in further consideration. Witha pickpocket's dexterity he drew from under his cloak his hunting knifefrom its sheath, ripped out the velvet lining, and possessed himself ofthe ducats in a trice. Then, with a pressure of his knees, he turnedhis horse round, and in the twinkling of an eye, horse and rider wereover the marsh. Only then did he turn round to utter as a partinggreeting the formula of the law courts: "I commend to you, my lord, myofficial services," and disappeared through the poplar-trees.

  "It is a stupid business," grumbled the president, whose good humour hadbeen torn away with that cut into his cap-lining.

  And a stupid, not to say absurd business it certainly was.

  But Gyongyom Miska, cracking his hunting whip merrily, bounded away overthe sedge.

  It was already evening. The autumn sun cast long shadows over the levelplain. At the edge of a wood burned a herdsman's fire. By it sat a girlin riding-gear, her head supported on her hands, at her feet twogreyhounds lay stretched out, her horse was tethered to the stem of apoplar. At the cracking of the whip she sprang from her resting-place,threw a bundle of dry faggots on the fire, mounted her horse, snatchedup her whip, and cracked it as a counter signal. Across the plain,starred with wild anemones, the two met; bending down from the saddle,they embraced and kissed each other, and were off once more, the oneeastwards, the other to the west.

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, scarcely had the guests withdrawn from the Assembly Housethan an official courier rode up the Old Buda Street into Pesth. Acourier of this kind was so unusual a sight, that everyone hastened tohis front door to see him. He wore a red frock coat, leather gaitersover his boots which reached up to the knee, and a cocked hat with atuft of red feathers. Every postmaster is bound to provide him with afresh mount does he need it, and a blast from his horn will compel everypeasant to hold at his service as many oxen or horses as he possesses.The sound of his horn is a well-known one, and as the courier gallops upthe street, the children, blowing through their hands, mimic the blast,and the elders crane their necks to see what may be his errand. It wasfor the prefecture he was bound.

  "Tres-humble serviteur, Mamselle Oefrosine!" Thus the courier greetedFraulein Fruzsinka de Zabvary. "Postage not paid, but I ask threekronen, because I've ridden well, to say nothing of having to go back!There are a thousand gulden inside."

  It was the courier's way to recommend the letters he handed in ascontaining a thousand gulden. So he was paid the fee; but there wasnothing like a thousand gulden in the letter thus sent to FrauleinFruzsinka, for it was from the captain of dragoons, Heinrich Lievenkopp,and why there was nothing of the kind in the letter, may now be told.

  Fraulein Fruzsinka paid the courier, but ordered him to wait at theprefecture so that she might give him the answer to take back. It waslikewise to the interest of the postman to urge the despatching of areply. Then she broke the seal and read the letter in question, writtenin the stilted affected style just then so much in vogue, withmythological phraseology mixed up with barrack slang. It ran as follows:

  "My most adored Lady,

  "By the winged feet of Mercury himself, do
I address a message, surely very agreeable to your grace. God Mars has taken it into his head to complete the heroic labours of Hercules. That scoundrel of a highwayman, 'Gyongyom Miska,' has, after escaping our annihilating force on this side of the river, retreated across the Danube, and has taken refuge in the Raczkeve Island--protected by Neptune and Hermes, those divinities of the robber. Meantime, must we patiently wait on the shore till we get a ferry to carry us across. The wretched fellow was playing us off, since he swam across the other arm of the Danube and reached the farther side. Thereupon, the Viennese civilians who were with us, declared, forsooth, that we might not pursue him, because it would be crossing the border of another county!

  "So we had to return to Pesth till the county of Pesth should supersede the county of Weissenburg in its strategic co-operation. But rumour has it that the redoubtable robber has come back from Weissenburg county to that of Pesth, and is haunting the Vorosvar woods. Therefore have I received new marching orders from the commander-in-chief to march with my squadron on to Vorosvar. To-morrow, at the first streak of dawn shall we start on an expedition which brings me on the wings of the Hours to the charmed circle of my adorable Calypso in the beauteous Vorosvar Vale of Tempe.

  "There is, however, a small but fatal incident that must be recorded, that has much disquieted me, which I will set forth to the Fraulein. Last week I was amusing myself with Mr. Justice Petray (a good fellow by the way), in dallying with Fortune's painted cards, on which occasion a thousand dancing sprites turned the wheel very unluckily for me, so that I lost twenty ducats to the justice, and had to give him my _parole_ as an officer that I would pay him to-morrow. Item, he insists on my redeeming my word, because to-morrow there is to be an enquiry into the accounts, and among other things will be missing the twenty ducats from the treasury. But owing to the incredibly bad state of the roads the allowance my aunt sends me has not arrived, nor do I know how I can settle the affair. And so for me there remains nothing but to take my leave of the world with a pistol-shot, and embark in the boat of Charon, or else to take refuge under the protection of my good genius, and call her to my aid. I humbly suggest that she might, for just this once, be an intermediary with her rich uncle for me, and borrow the above-mentioned sum on my behalf, which I pledge my word, as a cavalier, gratefully to reimburse directly I get my aunt's allowance.

  "May the Fraulein accept the most humble homage of Heinrich von Lievenkopp."

  Off went Fraulein Fruzsinka, when she had read this letter, to heruncle, the prefect.

  "I say, uncle, dear, will you advance me ten ducats out of myallowance?"

  "Oho, my dear," answered Mr. Zabvary in a tone which suggested themelancholy whine of a dog. "What's the matter? I really can't advanceany more money, for my account at the bank is already in danger of beingoverdrawn. But what did you so suddenly want ducats for? Is the captainof dragoons in difficulties? That seems to be a chronic ailment withhim. Yes, indeed, I know, he wants more pecuniary aid, that's it!Otherwise he'll blow his brains out? Heaven grant he may! If he'd onlydo it once for all! What does a dragoon captain matter to me? A man whonever means to marry, but just scares away the eligible suitors. I wishthe devil had taken him to Silesia. And, pray, if he means to marry, amI to keep him? I should think not, indeed, considering he's got his oldaunt. But even if he has, it will fall upon me in the end. Just writehim the right sort of answer in proper Latin: 'Centurio'=Captain,'pecunia'=money, 'non est'=is there none; 'si valves valeas'=if there'sno wine, then drink water!"

  "Very good, if you won't give me any, I'll ask someone else," saidFraulein Fruzsinka defiantly, banging the door after her as she wentout.

  Mr. Zabvary did not think much of that, for it was quite customary forFraulein Fruzsinka to raise loans on all sides; from the overseer, fromthe chief herdsman, nay, from the shepherd's man she would borrow, andthey never dared to ask the prefect for repayment, but probably then andthere reckoned--as the saying goes--that "discretion was the better partof valour" in such a case (which is a wise conclusion if you can butcome thereto). Fraulein Fruzsinka, however, left all these possiblecreditors unexploited, and calling for her horse, and her riding whip,and two pet dogs, she went off on a hunting expedition into the opencountry.

  She did not, certainly, appear to be troubling about game, but seemedmuch more concerned to reach the wood; once there, she paced along theside of the brook till she came to the thicket.

  There she took a path which led through it, till she reached apicturesque circular glade on whose edge six armed men in their colouredcloaks, lay encamped by a herdsman's fire. When the most gorgeouslygarbed one among them perceived the Fraulein, he sprang forward to meether, and as she approached he hastened up to her, lifted the young ladyfrom her horse, and kissed her on both cheeks. Both the dogs appeared torecognise the cavalier, for they sniffed at him in a decidedly friendlyway. Then, with their arms round each other's necks, they paced alongthe flower-decked turf, speaking together in a low voice. And the end ofit was that the lordly cavalier, after whispering to the Fraulein,mounted his horse, shouldered his weapons, and trotted off, with allhis accoutrements, in company with the young lady herself in thedirection of the high road.

  What then happened we have already seen.

  Fraulein Fruzsinka had her ducats when she came back. She put them withthe other ten, enclosed them in an envelope, gave them to the waitingpostman, and the red-coated courier was before nightfall on his returnjourney, blowing the while the lustiest blast on his horn.

  And thus had Fraulein Fruzsinka, at one blow, accomplished three, toher, eminently desirable ends.

  First she had made her adorer, Gyongyom Miska, aware on what side dangerthreatened him; at the same time she had procured the ten ducats whichher other admirer needed to redeem his word and avoid the fatal shot; inthe third place, she had helped her third suitor, the judge, to verifythe municipal accounts and make them balance.

  But those ten ducats must have truly been bewitched, since they werefated, in twenty-four hours, to pass through many pairs of hands, todisappear, be stolen, disappear again, and again be stolen, and onlythen to come to a stand-still.

  That Fraulein Fruzsinka had put all her admirers in a good temper,however, and benefited all three, can we duly testify.