Wherein is related what end was reserved for the
evil-doers by way of deterrent example, which
example, however, only distressed the soft-hearted
without terrifying the stiff-necked.
"I won't be there to see it," said Valentine to Simplex. "A shudder
runs through my whole body when I think of a man torturing another.
If a man were to beat, tweak, or flay me, I should only laugh at it;
but when I see one man tormenting another, it makes my blood boil. I
feel no dizziness when I stand on the edge of the loftiest
precipice, but when I see another hovering over the abyss, I am
beside myself with terror. I am amazed that there should be people
who delight in watching the bloody scenes on the scaffold. The
battlefield is quite another thing. There you fight man to man;
there you do not hear the cries of the dying. The death I deal to
one man, another man may at any moment deal to me. But I won't see
men who are bound hand and foot tortured to death; I won't hear them
shriek with anguish beneath the hand of the headsman."
"You'll go, notwithstanding," returned Simplex. "As I've already
said, if you are a true Calvinist, you'll resign yourself to
predestination, and must not say: 'I'll go hither, or, I'll go
thither!' You will do what it was preordained you should do at the
beginning of the world, and the place you are now going to is the
town of Eperies, and the market place in that town."
And it all happened exactly as Simplex said. For they had no sooner
stepped out of the tavern than they were stopped by a patrol of
drabants, who learning that they were soldiers, showed them the
mandate of the Commandant of Eperies, whereby all the soldiers on
leave in the district were ordered to Eperies, to remain in the
market place during the day, so that the people might not disturb
the execution of the law's sentence, or the comrades of the robbers
release them by a sudden and audacious onslaught.
So Valentine had to march to Eperies, with the other men-at-arms,
whether he liked it or not.
Crowds of people were pouring into the town that day, from all
quarters, as if a great banquet were to be given, or a lord
lieutenant installed--gentlemen in coaches or on horseback, peasants
sitting ten in a wagon, students, apprentices, peddlers,
sacred-image sellers, and deceivers of all sorts.
Simplex and Valentine were sent on by wagon the same night to
Eperies, where they arrived at dawn next morning.
At that time, Eperies no longer presented the smiling aspect of half
a century before. The internecine disorders, the religious
discussions, the ravages of robbers, had laid bare the whole region.
The stumps of trees and wildering weeds were all that remained of
the orchards which had once encircled the city walls, and whole rows
of ruined pleasure houses were left to tell what a merry life had
once been there.
Instead of the fine old plum and lordly apple trees quite another
sort of grove had grown up around the bastions--a ghastly grove of
gaunt, withered trees, laden with sad fruits, a wood of gallowses,
wheels, and spikes, on which the bones of criminals were rotting.
The three captured robber bands had largely contributed to this
gruesome grove. The lesser fry, the receivers of stolen goods, and
the women who had brought the robbers' powder from the town, had
been executed outside the trenches, three days before; only for the
three robber chieftains was reserved the supreme distinction of
being done to death _within_ the walls. One could not make too sure
of them.
In the great square, where the townhall and the large covered market
stand opposite to each other, that terrible edifice, generally
called the scaffold, had been raised. It towered high up and could
only be ascended by ladders, which the headsman's apprentices, when
they went to work, drew up after them so that none might follow. In
the middle of the scaffold stood a broad block against which heavy
wheels were leaning. On each side of the block two thick stakes were
fastened with heavy dependent chains, the links of which could be
locked and unlocked. From the top of each of these stakes projected
huge forks with bars across them and hooks hanging down from the
bars.
In front of the townhall a dais had been erected for the convenience
of the sheriffs, mayor, and town councilors. A guard of honor stood
in front of the dais, and the scaffold was environed by soldiers
three deep. Valentine tried to get into the hindermost row. He
wanted to see as little as possible of the terrible spectacle.
Simplex stood by his side, so as to be at hand in case his friend
was taken ill. The great square was filled with a gaping crowd. At
the windows stood or sat gayly dressed women, just as if a Corpus
Christi procession were about to pass. The very roofs of the houses
were covered with human heads. Booths had been erected in the market
place, where cakes and mead were offered for sale, steaks basted,
and pancakes tossed in large pans. The biographies of the robbers,
printed on coarse paper with red frontispieces, were also hawked
about.
Conspicuous among the itinerant gypsies and peddlers was a woman who
offered for sale long thongs fastened to the end of a stick, and was
particularly importunate with Simplex.
"Come Mr. Trumpeter, won't you buy a thong made out of the skin
flayed from the robbers' backs?"
Simplex at once recognized the voice; it was Pirka the witch. So
under the pretext of chaffing with her, he at once entered into a
conversation.
"What are these thongs of human skin good for?"
"They are good against the plague and falling sickness. They also
keep wild beasts away, and compel the most stubborn of sweethearts
to surrender."
"And how much are they apiece?"
"Four thalers."
But Valentine could stand it no longer.
"Don't be a fool," said he to Simplex, "she's cheating you. Those
thongs of fool leather, you'll get them from the farriers for a
penny apiece."
"That's all you know about it, Mr. Corporal," cried the witch,
gnashing her teeth; "my husband is not a knacker who flays horses,
but a headsman who flays men."
Valentine shuddered, and spat on the ground.
"Then if your wares be really genuine, they are doubly loathsome. Be
off with you!"
Simplex gave Pirka a nudge with his elbow and pointed at Valentine
with a wink, whereupon Pirka looked slyly askance at him, and
arching her elbows and screwing up her mouth, said to Valentine:
"Well, well, Mr. Corporal, for all your fine airs you'll be glad
enough before long to take something from me which comes through the
headsman's hands."
Simplex trod on her foot to make her hold her tongue, and then they
began talking together in a low voice, as if they were only haggling
about the thongs.
The next moment Pirka had as completely vanished as if the earth had
swallowed her up.
When the clock in the townhall tower struck eight, the bells of the
Franciscan convent close by began to ring, the roll of drums was
heard proceeding from the courtyard, and the sad procession appeared
in the market place.
First came the magistrates, who ascended the cloth-laid steps of the
dais, on the top of which the town-clerk recited the sentence aloud.
Then came the guards, sword in hand, and between them the three
delinquents, each of whom had a cord round his neck, the end of
which was held by one of the headsman's apprentices. Last of all
came the headsman, the old vihodar himself, on a white horse,
dressed in a long red mantle half covering his steed; a black
biretta with a red plume covered his head, and he held a naked sword
in his right hand. Two of his henchmen led the horse. Behind him
marched eight apprentices, who brought with them a whole arsenal of
instruments of torture.
Valentine turned his head aside in order to see nothing of all this.
Had he but looked, he would certainly have recognized _one_ of the
headsman's assistants.
The mob saluted the robbers with a fearful howl, which they answered
with hideous curses. But their filthiest imprecations were hurled at
the women among the spectators, who were ready to sink into the
ground for shame.
All three delinquents bore traces of torture on their bodies. They
were covered with burns and sores. Yet they showed no signs of
weakness. On the contrary, they greeted the old vihodar with wild
laughter, and scornfully challenged him to show them of his skill.
He coolly tossed the scarlet mantle from his shoulders, and in a low
voice distributed his commands to the apprentices, who were already
assembled on the scaffold.
The mob set up a frightful yell at the sight of the grim, stalwart
graybeard, to which he responded with a mock bow like a stage hero.
He opened the proceedings with Bajus.
Valentine had no need to stop his ears, for Bajus never uttered a
sound. Not a sigh escaped him. The people all round whispered to one
another in shuddering awe. The robber's cold contempt of death, and
the calmness with which he endured all manner of tortures, raised
him in their eyes to the rank of a hero.
In the deep stillness which prevailed, nothing was to be heard but
the droning of the heavy wheel.
It was all over with Bajus.
The next in order was the haughty Hafran.
With him the bloody drama took quite another turn.
The vihodar's assistants had sufficed for the first robber. He
himself had only given his directions in a low voice. But honor
constrained him to cope personally with the second robber.
Hafran was a frantic devil. He howled curses at the vihodar and
overwhelmed him with insults. He told him to his face that he was a
clumsy bungler.
Then the old vihodar took his biretta from his head, doffed his
coat, and set about accomplishing his masterpiece.
The spectators had reason to be satisfied with both performers. The
old vihodar exhausted all his skill upon the robber, and the robber
never ceased hurling defiance at the vihodar. They cursed and
reviled each other like devils. The robber laughed at all the
torments, and infuriated the vihodar by asking him derisively when
he was going to begin. The vihodar was quite beside himself for
rage, and excelled himself in the invention of fresh torments. Every
time he produced a fresh instrument of torture, he asked the robber
how the entertainment pleased him.
The Franciscan monk who was on the scaffold to afford the
delinquents the last consolations of religion, tried to pacify them
both, and begged them for Heaven's sake to leave off cursing; but
neither paid the slightest attention to him. The robber had the last
word. Even when he was so mangled and mutilated that he no longer
resembled anything human, even then he howled words of scorn in the
face of his tormentor. At last they plunged a hook into his side and
hoisted him aloft, and even then he showered down insults upon all
the women present at the bloody spectacle, till at last he gave up
his unconquerable spirit, which had surely made some mistake in
choosing a simple human body for its earthly dwelling-place.
The old vihodar was ashamed. He felt that this heroic resistance had
very considerably impaired his prestige in the opinion of the
people. This blot upon his escutcheon must be wiped off.
The third robber chieftain, Janko, still remained. He should serve
to restore the honor of the vihodar.
The old vihodar proposed to do great things with him. He had the
fetters removed from the feet of the delinquent, and would not even
allow him to be bound to the stake.
"We will have a dance together!" said he to Janko.
That word was the death of him.
The next moment, such a yell of horror burst forth from the crowd
that even Valentine's curiosity was aroused. He looked toward the
scaffold, and what he saw there really was astounding.
Janko, the mighty leaper, the instant his chains were taken from his
feet, had sprung upon the vihodar, pressed down his chest with his
knees, and bit him in the neck exactly on the spot where the great
jugular artery is. This he bit clean through, and--as if to justify
the fable, that whomsoever Janko bit with his envenomed fangs was a
child of death--the old vihodar fell to the ground like a log of
wood, and when the apprentices sprang forward to tear the delinquent
away from him, the headsman was already dead.
This incident so revolted Valentine that he reeled, and clinging
tightly to Simplex, stammered: "I really believe I am going to
faint."
"Hold up a little bit longer!" whispered Simplex in his ear.
As soon as the people learnt that Janko had killed the vihodar with
a single bite, a fearful tumult arose.
Everyone began to applaud the delinquent and cry: "Vivat Janko,"
while they pelted the headsman's assistants with stinking eggs and
rotten apples.
At last the blare of trumpets and the roll of kettle-drums drowned
the voice of the mob, and the sheriff arose on the dais and declared
that despite the unhappy accident which had befallen the old
vihodar, the execution of the law's sentence must proceed
notwithstanding. The young master, the son of the vihodar, was
there, and he was to do his duty, and that at once.
The uproar ceased and the crowd in intense expectation looked toward
the scaffold for the new performer to appear. It was plain, from the
deep silence that now ensued, that the newcomer had something to
say.
Valentine kept his eyes closed. He was deeply agitated. Had he not
been in the ranks he would have run away.
And now, in the midst of the general silence, he heard the young
master addressing the people:
"This evil-doer who has killed my father is not worthy to be put out
of the world by a human hand in a human way."
Valentine listened in amazement. That voice was familiar to his ear.
It seemed to him as if he had once heard it from the pulpit.
But the other proceeded:
"There is a mode of execution used in distant Abyssinia, where the
black skins of evil-doers are insensible to ordinary torture. They
are sewn alive in fresh buffalo hides and hung in the sun. So soon
as the hide begins to dry and shrink, the evil-doers learn to sing a
veritable song of hell. That is the way in which I mean to execute
this delinquent."
"What's that?" cried Valentine, "whose voice is that? Who but one
that has attended the lectures of the learned Professor David
Fröhlich could have heard of this Abyssinian tale? Who is it?"
He looked up and recognized the man in scarlet on the scaffold.
"That is Henry Catsrider, the husband of your Michal!" cried
Simplex, looking him full in the face.
To Valentine Kalondai it seemed as if everything was turning round
and round. He staggered, and would have fallen if Simplex had not
seized him by the arm and led him away. Nobody heeded them. During
this horrible scene many others, even among the soldiers, had fallen
senseless to the ground.