When Raby went into the office, the clerk told him that the chief was
expecting him in the "state-room" as it was called, in which
distinguished guests were received. This apartment was much more richly
furnished than the rest; it was therefore intended as a compliment to
Raby, that the pronotary should receive him there, rather than in his
bureau.
The pronotary was a fine-looking man of distinguished bearing. His thick
grey hair was combed straight back from his brows, and except for his
short moustache, he was clean-shaven. His short embroidered dolman
reached to his hips, and was confined by a costly girdle, wherefrom
depended a little pouch containing pen and ink, while his watch-chain
dangled from his breeches' pocket.
Raby was rather doubtful as to what sort of greeting he should venture
on. The French style exacted a solemn posturing with sundry bows and
curtseys; the German fashion demanded you should shake your neighbour's
hand as lustily as possible, but old-fashioned Hungarian etiquette
prescribed that the younger should kiss the hand of the elder. Raby
bethought him of the kiss he had received in coming thither, and that
decided him. He would pay it back now to the father. The face of the old
gentleman brightened at this greeting.
"Look you, my friend," he exclaimed in a clear deep voice, "in former
times, I would have patted you on the head, but I cannot do that now for
fear of dishevelling the coiffure your friseur has arranged. Don't you
regret, by the way, wasting so much flour?"
His guest was glad to catch the old man in such a good temper, and
determined to profit by it, so he kept up the jest.
"Yet it is far better surely, that I should tumble into flour than
bran?"
"I think not, my boy, besides you are not so far from tumbling into bran
as you seem to think."
Raby looked at him with astonishment.
Tarhalmy's face became suddenly grave.
"I know well enough why you are here!"
(How could he know why he had come? wondered his guest.)
"Not at my house, but why you are in this country. And if you will
permit me, I will tell you what I think about your mission."
"Oh pray do!" exclaimed Raby.
"Well, my young friend, you know I have always loved you as my own son.
I recognised all your capabilities, and always said 'that boy will some
day do great things!' A better brought-up, better disposed youth than
you were, with a higher sense of honour, could not be found. I would
not hesitate to entrust you with untold millions--or an innocent maiden.
But I warn you, if you persist in the way you have marked out for
yourself, you will soon be rotting in one of our prisons; and I shall
hear your chains clanking, without being able to stir a finger to set
you free."
"And all that because I am a friend of the people?"
"Rather an enemy of the nation, say!"
"Are not the people and the nation one and the same?"
"No, not at all: the nation is the state. You idealists cannot see the
wood for the trees; you cannot see the nation for the people. Only make
the people believe that they fare better under a despotism than under a
constitution, and you are the right side of the hedge."
"So you think it's a choice of being ruled by one tyrant or five hundred
thousand."
"Wait, young man, the five hundred thousand are the defenders of the
country on the field of battle, judges, commanders, pastors of souls and
teachers."
"Yes, it was like that formerly. But time does not stand still, even if
conditions remain the same. The new age demands a better system of
defence, a more enlightened code of justice and government, as well as
better methods of instruction."
"But you can't get all that in Hungary by just speaking the word! Nor
anywhere else, for that matter. We defend our much abused Asiatic
traditions, only through passive resistance."
"Yet the question which once was asked of old from the oracle of Dodona,
is still the pressing problem for us: which is the most desirable, a
flourishing Hungarian nation according to the ancient idea of it, or
popular freedom?"
At these words, the pronotary shook the young man cordially by the hand.
"That was a pertinent question. I honour you for your candour. So many
proselytes of the Emperor that I have come across so far, will insist on
it that between these two antagonistic ideals a compromise is possible:
that, after the abolition of the privileges of the nobles, with an
equalisation of taxes, and a mutual obligation to bear the common
burden, the country can remain the same as it was. But you openly admit
there are only two alternatives, in the face of which we must needs
choose. You have chosen your part, I too have made up my mind. I believe
that in our part of the world it is more necessary for the
constitutional, patriotic Hungarian nation to endure, than for the
peasants to have one day a week more for idling; that it is better for
the aristocracy to give orders to the mob, than that the mob should give
orders to the aristocracy."
The young man laughed aloud.
"No, no, my honoured friend, I do not come here with the intention of
touching our hereditary constitution with my little finger. In this does
my whole mission consist--in rectifying abuses which cry aloud to
Heaven for redress in the Court of the County Assembly."
"And pray who entrusts you with it?"
"Firstly the Emperor, and then the oppressed people themselves."
"That's just where the fault lies: neither the Emperor nor the people
have the right to lay such a duty on you. That right belongs alone to
the Pesth Assembly."
"But the Crown has the right to demand that such a right be exercised."
"Very likely. The Assembly will do whatever it be called upon to do."
"And if the Assembly acquit itself badly? For its own officials are
guilty of the misery of the people."
"Oh, that is no secret. Our officials are in a body quite ready to
fleece the folk in the very way that has aroused your indignation. But
up till now, we have elected these officials ourselves, and we would
rather have them over us, even if they were stained with the seven
capital sins, than have the Emperor's nominees, were they angels from
heaven. This is no legal quibble, but a question of actual conditions.
Whatever the people suffer, they will recover sooner or later; if a man
dies, another is born in his place; but the constitution can neither
suffer nor die. You stand for the Emperor, I stand for the voice of the
nation. Both are mortal. We shall see which of the two survives. But I
warn you to reckon on no one's support in the work you have undertaken,
for everyone will regard you as an enemy."
"Thank you," said Raby. "Also, there is a satisfaction in remembering
that there is at least one man I can reckon on who won't desert me."
"And who is that, pray?" asked Tarhalmy smiling rather grimly, for he
thought it was the Emperor he meant.
"Why myself."
The pronotary embraced him, exclaiming tenderly as he did so: "Poor
fellow, poor fellow!" Then he said gently: "Farewell, in case I never
see you again!"
And Mathias Raby went away without mentioning even a word of Mariska.
What a horrible thing these politics are, to be sure!