The Yellow Rose Part 10

The doctor rose, and came out in dressing-gown and slippers, to see for himself. He was most satisfied. "He is going on well; to be thirsty is a good sign. Give him as much water as he wants." The invalid drank a whole carafe and then dropped into a quiet slumber.

"Now he is fast asleep," said the doctor to Klari, "so you may go and lie down on the bed in the housekeeper's room. I will leave my door open, and take care of him."

But the girl pleaded so hard to be allowed to stay, to lean her head on the table and thus steal a nap, that he at last let her do as she pleased. Suddenly she awoke with a start to find it was day, and the sparrows were twittering at the windows.

The patient was then dreaming as well as sleeping. His lips moved, he murmured something and laughed. His eyes half opened, but evidently with a great effort, for they closed immediately. But his parched lips seemed to be asking for something.

"Shall I give you water?" whispered the girl.

"Yes," he muttered, with his eyes shut.

So she brought him the water bottle, but he had not strength enough in his arms--this great fellow--even to raise the tumbler to his mouth. She had to lift his head and give it to him. Even while drinking he fell half asleep.

Hardly had his head touched the pillow when he began to hum aloud--probably a continuation of the gay air of his dreams:

"Why not love this world of ours?

Gypsy maid, Magyar maid, both are flowers."

CHAPTER VI.

A day or two later the lad was on his feet again. Such tough fellows as he, born and bred on the puszta, do not linger long on the sick list when once the crisis is past. They abhor bed. So on the third day he told the doctor that he wished to get back to the horses at his place of service.

"Wait a bit, Sandor, my boy. Somebody has to speak with you first."

"Somebody" turned out to be the examining magistrate. On the third day, after the report, this official, with his notary and a gendarme, arrived at Mata to conduct the formal inquiry. The accused--the young woman--had already been examined, and had given a full account of everything. She denied nothing, only saying in her defence that she was very much in love with Sandor, and wished to make him love her as well.

All this was taken down in the protocol and signed. Nothing now remained but to confront the prisoner with her victim. And this was done as soon as the herdsman had regained sufficient strength.

Meanwhile he never once uttered the girl's name in the doctor's presence, pretending not to know that she had been in the house nursing him, and as the young man recovered consciousness, she ceased to show herself at all. Before confronting her with him, the magistrate read out the deposition to the girl, who confirmed it anew, and would not have a word altered.

Then Sandor Decsi was brought forward.

As soon as the csikos entered the room he began to act a preconcerted role. His swaggering betyar airs were such that one would have thought he had only learnt to play the csikos on the stage. When the judge asked his name he stared at him over his shoulder.

"My worthy name? Sandor Decsi! I have hurt no one, nor have I stolen anything, that I should be dragged here by gendarmes. Besides, I am not under civil authority. I am still a soldier of the Emperor, and if anyone has a complaint against me, let him go before the regimental authorities, and there I will answer him."

The magistrate silenced him. "Gently, young man, no one is accusing you of anything. We only want enlightenment in an affair closely concerning yourself. That is the object of this investigation. Tell us when were you last in the taproom of the Hortobagy inn?"

"I can inform you exactly. What is there to hide? But first send away this gendarme at my back. Because if he should happen to come too near, I am touchy and might give him a blow."

"Now, now, not so fast, young fellow. The gendarme is not guarding you.

Tell us when it was that you visited Miss Klari here--the day she served you with wine?"

"Well, I will as soon as I have got my wits together. The last time I was at the Hortobagy inn was last year, on Demeter's day, when they engage the shepherds. Then they took me for a soldier, and I have not been in the place since."

"Sandor!" broke in the girl.

"Yes, Sandor is my name. So they christened me."

"Then you were not there three days ago, when the barmaid gave you the wine mixed with mandragora, which made you so ill?"

"I _never_ was at the Hortobagy inn, nor did I see Miss Klari. It is half a year since I asked for any of her wine!"

"Sandor, you are lying for my sake!" cried the girl.

The judge grew angry.

"Do not try to mislead the authorities with your denials. The girl has already confessed everything--that she made you drink wine poisoned with mandrake roots."

"Why, then, the young woman lied," said the herdsman.

"But what reason could she have for accusing herself of a crime which entails such heavy punishment?"

"Why, what reason? Because when the mad fit comes upon a girl, she simply raves without rhyme or reason. Miss Klari fancies our eyes don't meet each other's often enough, so she has an ill will against me, and now she takes to accusing herself to compel me to let out the _other one's_ name, out of sheer compa.s.sion--the pretty la.s.s, to whom I went to lose my soul and cure my heart, and who gave me the charm to drink.

Well, if I choose I'll tell, but if I don't, I won't. This is Miss Klari's revenge for my having neither called on her, nor gone near her since I came home on leave."

At these words the girl turned on him like a fury.

"Sandor!--you who have never lied in your life--what ails you? When the one little lie, which they put in your mouth, would have saved you from soldiering, that you could not tell! Now you deny being with me three days ago. Then who brought me the comb that I have done up my hair with?"

The csikos laughed grimly.

"Who brought it, and why? Surely the young lady knows better than I!"

"Sandor, this is not right of you! I don't mind if they put me in the pillory for my wrong-doing, and lash and scourge me. Here is my head; let them cut it off if they like. But don't tell me you never cared for me, nor came to see me, for that is worse than death."

The judge flew into a rage. "Confound you," he cried. "Settle your love affairs between yourselves. Since a flagrant case of poisoning has been committed, I want to know who was the culprit!"

"Now answer!" exclaimed the girl, with flaming cheeks. "Answer that!"

"Well, well. Since I must, so be it, I can tell you all about it. On the Ohat puszta I fell in with a gypsy band in tents. One of them, a lovely girl, with eyes like sloes, who was standing outside, spoke to me, and invited me in. They were roasting a sucking pig, and we enjoyed ourselves. I drank their wine, and at once felt that it had a bitter taste; but the kisses of the gypsy la.s.s were so sweet that I forgot all about it."

"You _lie_, _lie_, _lie_!" shrieked the girl. "You have invented that story this very minute!"

The herdsman laughed loudly, clapped one hand to the crown of his head, snapped his fingers in the air, and started his favourite song:

"Why not love this world of ours?

Gypsy maid, Magyar maid, both are flowers."

Not this very minute had he invented this tale, but on that night of pain when the "Yellow Rose" had sat smoothing his pillows and bathing his brow. Then, with his aching head, he had thought out a plan to save his faithless sweetheart.

The judge struck his fist on the table.

"None of your nonsense before me, making fun of the matter."