Hardly had Mathias Raby returned to Szent-Endre than he realised that
everyone was aware of his mission. Gifts of all kinds poured in, and his
servant told him that in his absence two casks of wine had arrived--she
knew not from whom. In the courtyard, big stacks of firewood had already
been piled up--the gift of some anonymous donor, while the poultry-yard
was full of feathered stock which seemed to have flown down from the
skies.
It was a pity the recipient did not appreciate them. Yet he knew the
time would come when all those who now plied him with gifts, would be
ready to deprive him of everything, if he ventured to set foot in their
streets. He forbade the maid to touch any of them under pain of instant
dismissal. The poor girl was quite dumbfoundered with surprise, for what
could one have better than such presents?
On the day of his return, two well-known citizens appeared at his door
with a smart coach and four beautiful horses. One of them was Mr. Peter
Paprika; in former times he had himself fulfilled a term of office as
magistrate six years, so he understood the situation. The two had come
to wish Mr. Raby good day, Peter Paprika adding that, as his worship
must have so many journeys to make in so many different directions, he
was sure he could not exist without a carriage and horses. For Raby,
moreover, the price of the whole equipage, including horses, would only
be forty gulden! Nor need he be surprised at this abnormally cheap
price, for they were not stolen. The four horses were from the stud of
the State, the carriage was the best the local builder could turn out.
Mathias Raby thanked them for the offer, but refused to buy the
equipage, even at this price.
However, they still pressed their bid, adding that fodder for the horses
would be provided gratis, whereupon Raby told them point blank that
their bribes would not in the least avail to turn him from his purpose.
Mr. Paprika returned dejectedly to the town council where his colleagues
waited to learn the result of his mission.
"I'm afraid," he announced to his fellow-councillors, "it won't avail us
to dip in the little chest for this. We have a difficult customer to
deal with. We must dive into the big one."
They talked the matter over, and determined that if necessary, they
would sacrifice half the common wealth, and for this, bleed the treasure
itself, to such an end. And Peter Paprika was entrusted to find out a
new opportunity for proffering the bribe.
So the next day they sought out Raby, and put the whole thing before
him. They hinted broadly enough that you did not muzzle the ox that
trod out the corn, and that he who cut up a goose was justified in
keeping the best bit for himself, and other like arguments, and finally
laid on his table the sum of three thousand ducats.
Even to-day three thousand ducats are not a sum to be despised: in those
days, indeed, they represented a respectable fortune. But Raby nearly
drubbed the envoy who brought them out of the room. He was righteously
indignant, and angrily showed the messenger the door.
"I never saw a man so angry," growled Peter Paprika, "I've heard men
often enough refuse money in so many words, but they contrived to pocket
the ducats discreetly, directly they have the chance." So they thought
it might happen this time. A week elapsed, and people already began to
smile knowingly at Raby when they met him in the street, saying to
themselves, "He only wants a little bigger net, but he'll be caught in
the end."
How greatly was popular opinion disconcerted, when in all the churches
the following Sunday, a "command" from the Emperor was read to the
effect "that the three thousand ducats which the worshipful town council
had given to Mr. Mathias Raby for benevolent purposes, were to be
divided among the inhabitants whose homes the preceding year had been
destroyed by fire, and that each one would receive seventy-five gulden
apiece."
What a procession it was that took its way to Raby's house. The
unfortunate victims of the conflagration came with their children and
chattels to thank their benefactor and to kiss his hand. The homes of
many of them had still to be made good, and the help could not have come
at a more seasonable time. But it set the officials against Raby. They
could not tell the recipients of this bounty what had really happened.
But the latter guessed immediately that the town council had given Mr.
Raby three thousand ducats, not for any charitable ends, but in order to
bribe him, and that he was making over to them these ill-gotten gains.
Well might the poor regard him as their deliverer!
Nevertheless, the councillors began to shake in their shoes. Judge,
notary, and old Paprika hastened to the prefect, and announced with
anxiety and horror that a dragon had been set on to them, who would not
be pacified with the treasure itself.
"Well, we'll just fetch out a bigger one still to satisfy him."
What that greater treasure was, we shall in the course of events now
learn.