Midst the Wild Carpathians Part 22

"I did it all, your Highness."

"Then you have done a very foolish thing, Master Michael Teleki."

"That remains to be seen, your Highness," replied the minister proudly, conscious of his own intellectual superiority.

Meanwhile Dame Apafi had entered the room; her princely robes well became her princely aspect. All the gentlemen present hastened forward to do her homage. But Apafi also advanced quickly towards her, put his arm through hers, and with marked tenderness endeavoured to lead her into his cabinet.

"No; let us remain here," cried the Princess; "there will be plenty of time later on to look at your Dutch clocks. Far more serious matters claim our attention first. These gentlemen from Hungary desire an audience."

Apafi exploded at once.

"I know beforehand what they want, and I have declared once for all that I will hear no more of the matter."

"But you will surely listen to me. I too am an Hungarian woman, and in the name of my fatherland I implore the Prince of Transylvania for help.

None shall say that I rule the Prince in secret. Look now, I advance openly before his throne, and I beg of him protection for Hungary, whose sons are called strangers in Transylvania, though I, her daughter, am the Princess."

From Apafi's looks it was clear that he would much rather have listened to the Hungarian gentlemen than to his own consort. But he was caught in a trap. She stood before him as a pet.i.tioner. There was no escape.

Teleki bade the pages in waiting at the door admit no one else. Apafi, with a gesture of impatience, sat down in an arm-chair, and resigned himself to listen to his consort; but Anna had scarcely commenced to speak, when the rattling of a coach was heard in the courtyard, and shortly afterwards heavy footsteps resounded in the corridors, and a stern, dictatorial voice, with which every one appeared to be familiar, asked if the Prince was in. The pages said No, and tried to stop the intruder, but exclaiming, "Out of my way, you brats!" he burst open the door and forced his way into the room. It was none other than Denis Banfi.

He had just descended from his carriage. His cheeks were much redder than usual, and his eyes sparkled. He went straight towards the Prince and cried, without the slightest preamble--

"Do not listen to these gentlemen, your Highness! Do not listen to a single word."

The Prince smiled and greeted Banfi.

"G.o.d preserve you, my cousin," said he.

"Pardon me, your Highness, if in my great haste I neglected to salute you; but when I heard that the Hungarian gentlemen were here in audience, I was quite beside myself with rage. What do you want?"

continued he, turning towards the Hungarians; "not satisfied, I suppose, with ruining your own country with your unruliness, you must needs come hither to disturb us likewise?"

"You speak of us," remarked Teleki, with quiet sarcasm, "as if we belonged to some outlandish Tartar stock, and as if we had been cast hither from heaven only knows what sort of savage, distant land."

"On the contrary, I know you only too well, ye Hungarian lords. I speak of you as men whose turbulence has, time out of mind, been ruinous to Transylvania. The people of Hungary are idiots one and all."

"I beg you not to lose sight of the fact that I too am one of them,"

said the Princess.

"I know it; and it is with anything but satisfaction that I see the will of your Highness predominant here."

Dame Apafi, with an expression of wounded dignity, turned towards her brother-in-law.

"Whatever you may say, I will not cease to be your good kinswoman and well-wisher," and with these words she quitted the room.

"You might at least have addressed the Prince more becomingly," remarked Teleki, sharply.

"Have I then spoken one word to the Prince?" asked Banfi, shrugging his shoulders. "How can I even reach his Highness when you are always standing in the way? I am and always will be the enemy of those who have no right whatever to stand on the steps of the throne, and you are one of them, Master Michael Teleki. Oh, don't imagine that the reasons which make you so enthusiastic in the Hungarian cause are hidden from me. You are not content with being the first in Transylvania after the Prince; you would fain become Palatine of Hungary[28] as well. Ha! ha! how you all befool one another. The French promise aid to the Hungarians; the Hungarians promise Teleki the dignity of Palatine; Teleki promises Apafi a kingly crown, and ye lie, the whole lot of you; ye deceive and are deceived."

[Footnote 28: _Palatine_ (Hungarian: "_Nador_"). The Palatine was the highest dignitary in Hungary after the King. The dignity was inst.i.tuted soon after the year 1000, but since 1848 has been found incompatible with modern parliamentary government.]

"Sir," replied Teleki, bitterly, "is that the way to speak to guests, to exiled, unhappy fellow-countrymen?"

"Don't teach me how to be generous," retorted Banfi, proudly. "At my house the poor and the persecuted have ever found an asylum, and if these fugitive gentlemen wish us to share house and home with them, I'm ready to do so. Here's my hand upon it. But just as I should be out of my senses to burn my own house down, so now too I protest against the conflagration of my country; and if you do not cease from troubling a peaceful land, I'll leave no stone unturned till I have driven you all out."

"We ought not to be surprised at this tone, my friends," said Teleki, with bitter scorn, turning towards the Hungarians. "His Excellency here has been so very recently amnestied by the Prince, that he imagines he is still at war with us."

Apafi, who had been sitting on burning coals, now interposed.

"Cease this bickering. We dismiss you all. You see that sundry of our councillors are against the matter, and without their consent I can do nothing."

"Then," cried Teleki, with solemn emphasis, "we appeal to the Diet."

"I too will be there," said Banfi.

The Prince, very much offended, withdrew to his cabinet. The Hungarian n.o.bles, much excited, went out by the other door. Teleki remained behind. Banfi, adjusting his marten-skin cap, haughtily measured his opponent from head to foot, and exclaimed ironically as he went out--"I leave my reputation behind me!" Teleki returned his gaze with the most nonchalant sangfroid.

When every one had disappeared, Teleki whispered some words to a page, who went out and returned in a few moments with a florid, curly-headed young man. Methinks we have seen this youth somewhere or other before, though only for an instant which we cannot call to mind. A beggar's sack hangs down over his ragged clothing, his hand holds a k.n.o.bby stick.

"So you permit me at last to approach the Prince?" said he, in a somewhat dictatorial tone.

"Sit down here by the door," replied the minister; "the Prince goes to dinner shortly, and will pa.s.s by this way. You can then speak to him."

The young man with the beggar's sack sat for a long time at the Prince's door, till Apafi came out of his room on his way to dinner. The beggar with the knapsack planted himself right in his Highness's way.

"Who are you?" asked the Prince, much surprised.

"I am that renowned warrior, Emerich Bala.s.sa, who once was one of the chief men of Hungary, and now stands before your Highness with the beggar's staff."

"You were involved, I understand, in that conspiracy against us?" said Apafi, disagreeably flurried.

"That I was not, your Highness. If you would deign to listen to my tale, then----"

"Speak!"

"There was once in Hungary a famous Turkish freebooter, named Corsar Beg, who for a long time ravaged the mountain regions. The banded might of six counties was insufficient to besiege him in his fortress. This man I captured by subtlety. By promises and flatteries I won over his favourite slave, who enticed him out of his stronghold by night and alone. I, duly advertised thereof, fell upon him with hors.e.m.e.n ambushed in the woods, and took captive both him and his slave, who is the most beautiful and the most abandoned of her s.e.x in the whole world."

"I have heard of you, Master Bala.s.sa. It was a daring deed."

"Listen further, your Highness. No sooner had the news of my capture spread abroad, than the Palatine of Hungary, very emphatically, insisted upon my handing over the prisoners to him. The Turks had already offered me a ransom of sixteen thousand ducats for the pair, but I would not part with the girl at any price. I therefore sent word to the Palatine that if he wanted a Beg of his own he must catch one, for I had not captured mine on his account."

Apafi laughed heartily. "That was one for him!"

"Thereupon the Palatine waxed wroth, and by the Emperor's command sent out troops against me to rob me of my captives. Now just at this very time, your Highness's brother-in-law, Denis Banfi, had taken refuge in my castle, and to him I entrusted the slave, of whom I was madly enamoured. He was to fly with her to my castle of Ecsed, and as I saw that the Palatine was bent upon securing Corsar Beg for himself in order to cut off his head at Buda as a warning to all malefactors, I gave the Turk poison, which he, to escape the scaffold, thankfully accepted.

When, therefore, the troops of the Palatine arrived at my house, all that they found there was the cold corpse, which the Turks afterwards purchased from me for a thousand ducats."

"The Palatine was naturally very angry, I suppose?" remarked Apafi.

"'Twas I who had cause to be angry, for all through him I lost fifteen thousand ducats, and yet he succeeded in obtaining an order for my apprehension from the Emperor. I scented the danger in time, and got together my valuables in order to fly into Transylvania, and remain there till the affair had blown over. First of all, then, I hastened to my castle at Ecsed, whither, as I have said, I had sent Banfi on beforehand with the Turkish slave. While still on the way, I learnt that Banfi had been restored by your Highness's amnesty to his former position. I rejoiced greatly thereat, supposing that I now had in him a powerful protector. Nevertheless, on reaching Ecsed, I found no sign or trace of the girl. My castellan there informed me that Banfi had carried her off with him, and left a letter behind for me, which contained the following words--'Learn from this, my friend, that there are three things you should never entrust to another--your horse, your watch, and your mistress!'"