Pretty Michal Part 35

"Barbara!" said Michal, rallying all her courage, "we must not converse very long together or else my mother will hear it."

"Ah, ha! So you have another mother besides me?"

"I know what you want--money. I'll give you all I can, and then, in G.o.d's name, go!"

"I don't want money--there now! I have enough of that and to spare.

Look!" and with that she showed her a netted purse in which were at least two hundred ducats. "I want something else. I won't go from hence in anyone's holy name, for I've not come hither to be sent away, but to talk to you. Yes, to talk to you, in all secrecy, yet without fear. I already know all the habits of this household. At two o'clock in the afternoon your husband goes to the townhall to attend to his business. At the selfsame hour, the old lady has her afternoon nap. She has need of it, poor thing. In the afternoon the shop is closed, and not opened again till six in the evening; for no one sends for meat in the afternoon, and meanwhile the apprentices are busy at the drawbridge. But behind the gate is a side door, through which the meat is carried up into the shop, to be cured and salted; through that door I can creep in un.o.bserved. Even the dogs don't bark at me. Be there in the afternoon when it strikes two!

Then I'll tell you something."

With that she quickly whipped the cloth round her head again, and whisked out of the room, shuffling and sc.r.a.ping all the way down the long corridor as beggar-women do.

Michal remained behind, tormented by agonizing doubts. What did this woman, who had so much power over her, mean to do with her? If she will not let her silence be bought with gold, what price will she demand for it?

She said nothing to anyone, not even to her husband, about the rendezvous; but it seemed an age to her before Valentine went off to the townhall, and her mother-in-law began dozing in her armchair.

At the stroke of two, she was already in the shop below, the trellis-door of which, leading to the street, was closed, while the side door near the gateway stood ajar.

Red Barbara appeared punctually. She looked cautiously round for fear of an ambush, and then slowly closed the door behind her that it might not creak. Then she stroked pretty Michal's face with her rough red hand, and said with cunning flattery:

"Eh! my little sweetheart, how lovely you have grown since last I saw you!"

Her touch, her words, made Michal shudder.

"I don't wonder at all at the enamoured Zurdoki going quite off his head about you."

"Zurdoki?"

"Yes, my dear little c.o.c.kchafer! You may be quite sure that I have not come all the way to your dismal town of Ka.s.sa for my own amus.e.m.e.nt, but because I have been sent thither. The fine stout gentleman, the gracious, rich, and kind old gentleman, said to me: 'Go, dear gossip Barbara, go to the town of Ka.s.sa, seek there my wondrous little flower, the pretty wife of Valentine Kalondai, your own dear daughter, whom you got married to her husband at Bartfa, and take her this costly girdle. She must wear it for my sake, and it will make her more beautiful than ever!'"

The girdle was inlaid with turquoises and Orient pearls, a gift meet for a princess.

Michal dashed it angrily to the ground.

"Shameless wretch!"

"Whom do you call shameless? Me?"

"No, the sender."

"Oh, my treasure! I don't say that's all. He will give you very much more than that. He will load you with precious things, so that your beauty will s.h.i.+ne forth still more resplendently."

"I won't have his presents!"

"Who dares to talk of presents here? It is not presents that a pretty woman receives. Oh, no! When any one brings a costly offering to a saint, he does it to open the way to heaven in the next world; and when anyone sends costly offerings to a pretty woman, _he_ does it to obtain heaven here below. That is no present, but a well-earned reward."

"Reward! For what?"

"For what? How simple we are! Why, for admitting someone into your heaven, of course."

"What! The horrible old devil really believes that of me?"

"Come, come! A man is never horrible, and the devil is never old. If you think him ugly I'll give you a magic potion, and with that in your body you'll think him a prince."

"Go to h.e.l.l with him! ugly or handsome. I'll none of him! I have a husband whom I love."

"You have two husbands, and one of them you do not love. Your first and lawful husband, whom you have forsaken for the more comely one, lives the life of a lonely, dismal bachelor at Zeb. You are on a crooked path. Do you fancy you can keep straight? No! you must go on as you have begun. Do you think that I only took you away from the house of the headsman of Zeb, in order that one stout butcher's wife the more might in course of time sit in the front pew of the Cathedral of Ka.s.sa?"

"You frightful woman! What do you mean to do with me?"

"What do I mean to do with you? Why, you little fool! I want to give you the whole world. I want you to find out what sort of fruit grew on the tree of which our mother Eve plucked one. Why, when she was about it, did she not pick ten or twenty? If I had wished you to join the ranks of the saints as a martyr, I should have left you in the house of the headsman of Zeb, shouldn't I? Do you suppose that I do not know how to value your beautiful white velvety skin, your large sparkling eyes, your round cheeks, your inviting lips, your fine figure? All the n.o.ble opals in the mines of Dubink are not half as numerous as the precious stones which will be laid at your feet whenever you like. Your fingers will turn whatever they touch to gold. If you only do what I tell you, you'll be richer than King Darius. And it won't cost you the least trouble. It will seem as if you only dreamt it all. Who can call you to account for what you dream? Do you go to confession merely for dreaming that you are another man's wife. Fear nothing! If only you will put yourself in my hands, you will tread on no one's corns. But if you try to get away from me, it will only be so much labor lost. I have only to send a letter, a word, to Henry Catsrider, and you and your Valentine are lost. We shall see pretty Michal publicly scourged with rods and branded with red-hot irons in the market-place, and they will strike off the head of the sheriff of Ka.s.sa; for your lawfully wedded husband still lives, and you were not separated from him when you married the second."

Michal shuddered. She felt herself in the grip of a vise. She could only tear herself away by force. Feminine cunning suggested an idea, and rage and pride matured it into a regular plan. She would pretend to lend an ear to the evil counsels of her seducer. She would ostensibly consent to the disgraceful offer, lure Zurdoki to her, and when quite sure of him, would tell her husband everything.

A man like Valentine would most certainly kill both the seducer and his go-between, and such a homicide is justified by the laws and customs of every nation.

Then she meditated killing by the hand of her husband the one being in the world who was in possession of her secret. She had reason enough for hating with a deadly hatred the witch who came to her with such a dastardly proposal, and whose devilish intention it was to hand her innocent soul over to perdition; but at the bottom of this murderous idea was the constant thought that, when once Barbara was out of the way, her secret would be secure. So she whispered gently to Barbara:

"I'm only afraid someone will find me out."

Barbara's eyes flashed and sparkled like those of a wolf pouncing on his prey. She fancied the little bird was caught already.

"Leave it all to me," she replied, also in a whisper, "no true woman ever lets herself be caught. One who really knows what's what can even manage to be in two places at the same time. You know how to treat your husband so that he sees least when he's most on the alert. Only rely upon me. Has anyone ever suspected our former secret? Very well, then! It will be the same with this one also. No headsman can tear from me with red-hot pincers what I know about you, and no stately youth can wheedle it out of me with fond caresses; but a single s.h.i.+fty look from you may make me blab."

And Michal so far overcame her heartfelt horror of the evil witch as to press her hand and promise that they two would hold together as heretofore. Then she told her to be at the same place on the morrow, at the same time.

"And when the proper time comes," she added, confidentially, "you must once more practice enchantments with the pan of water on the fire, and the buck-goat will bring me the enamored swain."

Michal was well aware that it was no buck-goat, but his own legs, that had brought Valentine to her on that occasion; but she wanted to flatter the witch, who was much gratified by the allusion. She winked roguishly, patted Michal's cheeks once more, and after promising to come on the morrow, whisked out of the door as stealthily as she had come.

But Michal went up into her own room, threw herself on the bed, and wept bitterly. And when, a little time afterward, Dame Sarah asked her how it was that her eyes were so red, she pretended she had been working too long at a piece of fine white embroidery. Dame Sarah thereupon locked up every piece of white embroidery in her wardrobe, so that Michal might not ruin her eyes. When, however, her husband came home and asked whether Barbara had been there yet, she pretended that the woman had not appeared that day also.

Next day the witch came again after it had struck two o'clock, locked herself up with Michal in the butcher's shop, and had a whole hour's conversation with her.

And when Red Barbara had gone away, pretty Michal again went up into her bedroom, and wept till her mother-in-law awoke from her afternoon nap. And when Dame Sarah again asked her why her eyes were so red, she pretended that the scent of the sweet basil plant in her room was too strong, and had given her a headache.

Dame Sarah immediately had all the flowers which stood in glazed jars on Michal's window-sill removed elsewhere.

And this evening also pretty Michal deceived her husband by a.s.suring him that Red Barbara had never been there.

The following day was Sunday. Pretty Michal declared she did not feel well and could not go to church. This time Dame Sarah and Valentine went to the house of G.o.d without her. During their absence Red Barbara again visited Michal, and the young woman dismissed the witch with the a.s.surance that she was quite ready to receive the gracious gentleman if he would only come, whereupon Red Barbara promised to hasten on her hobby-horse (a broomstick, no doubt!) to Saros, and Michal might expect her return any day.

When Michal heard that the witch was about to depart, she felt much relieved. That day she told her husband that Red Barbara had been there, and had departed satisfied. The same afternoon Valentine had it publicly proclaimed, that all foreign vagrants must quit the town by the following morning, or in default thereof be whipped with rods.

And now nothing was heard of the evil witch for some time to come.

But the roses did not come back to pretty Michal's cheeks, nor did the wrinkles vanish from Valentine's brow. Dame Sarah observed them both with anxious curiosity. Something dreadful was going on, of that she felt quite certain, especially as pretty Michal had now altogether left off going to church.

This much indeed Dame Sarah knew for certain. On the day of the election of the sheriff, just before her daughter-in-law had swooned away, a strange beggar-woman with a red cloth round her head had been seen to approach her, and now sundry friends and acquaintances told her that at the very time when she was wont to enjoy her afternoon nap, this same beggar-woman had been seen to step into the shop, and not come out again for some considerable time.