The fateful day broke at last and found the Pesth authorities still in
council; their vigil had lasted throughout the night. It was no light
question to be decided: nothing less than the authority of the Hungarian
constitution, and whether or not it should resist the armed force which
menaced it.
Many among them pitied the prisoner and deemed him guiltless in their
own hearts, but the law had to be justified--at whatever cost--and
Raby's acquittal would have embodied the breach of that law. Thus it was
that no voice was raised on his behalf, and his condemnation was a
foregone conclusion.
It was with difficulty the prisoner could stand, so exhausted was he;
and when he looked in the faces of his judges, he found there no mercy.
Tarhalmy had hidden his face in his hands, as, at the stroke of ten from
the great Franciscan church clock, the vice-notary (they spared Tarhalmy
the office) began to read the sentence of the court on Raby.
He read out the absurd charges which had been got up against the
culprit, the _resume_ of the former trials, the judge's verdict, the
prisoner's incitements to the peasants to revolt, his association with
brigands, and resort to diabolical arts in order to escape from prison,
all of which had rendered him amenable to death by the axe. But this
sentence, said the speaker, could not be carried out, since the Emperor
had abolished capital punishment, and so it had been commuted by the
court into the galleys for life. Mathias Raby was therefore adjudged to
be chained that very day to the oar, to work out his just sentence.
"Chained to the oar!"
For that broken emaciated form what a mockery the sentence seemed! And
Mariska, what had she said to it, had she heard it?
Raby had to be supported by two heydukes, as he was compelled to listen
standing to the sentence, but his face was deathly pale as he heard it.
All at once the blare of trumpets and beating of drums was heard
without, and out of the neighbouring barracks came squadrons of infantry
and cavalry. The heavy roll of the cannon and the rattling of the
gun-carriages were distinctly audible as the latter rumbled along the
cobbles. And high above it, Lievenkopp's command to load was clearly
heard, and the rattle of the muskets as the soldiers obeyed.
The pale face of the prisoner suddenly glowed with hope, and an electric
thrill of triumph convulsed his relaxed limbs, as he listened. Rescue
was at hand then!
Now it is the turn of his judges to blench, for his persecutors to
tremble. The sword is suspended over the judge's head, not over the
culprit's. Who will first avert it?
"Now, gentlemen," cried the vice-notary, "the sentence, you know, must
be read from the open window of the Assembly House, so all may hear it!"
The speaker (he was quite a young man) suddenly paled with terror as he
took up the document, and hastily begged for a glass of water. Laskoy
was too terror-stricken to take upon him the task before which his
junior quailed.
Tarhalmy stepped forward and seized the paper. "I will read it," he said
calmly.
And turning to the castellan, he cried, "Close the doors, and tell the
heydukes to load their muskets at once."
As Raby heard that command he shuddered. The first shot fired, the door
of the Assembly House once shattered, would be the signal for the whole
country to be aflame with revolt. Such a course would hurl the nation
and the dynasty to the verge of ruin. And for what? For the sake of
ensuring freedom to one miserable man. Was it worth it?
The prisoner suddenly broke away from his guards, and intercepting
Tarhalmy as he reached the window, he threw himself at his feet.
"Your worship," he cried, "I recognise the justice of the sentence, I no
longer defy you, I am utterly broken; let me die, but do not let me be
further tortured or insulted. But do not on my account stir up bloodshed
and strife in this land; trample me, kill me if you will, but do not
let the innocent suffer. You shall never hear a word of complaint from
me again!"
Tarhalmy tore his coat lappet from Raby's trembling grasp, and strode
firmly but proudly to the window. Below in the street, came the word of
command from the officer in charge: "Load your muskets!"
Standing at the open window, Tarhalmy read aloud, in a clear unwavering
voice, the judgment on Raby from beginning to end. The prisoner had
fainted. The cannon were in readiness, the muskets loaded; they only
awaited the order to fire. All at once, an imperial courier, galloping
at full tilt through the crowd, dashed through the trumpeters, rode up
to the commandant, and handed him a sealed missive, crying "In the
King's name!"
Lievenkopp hastily broke the seal of the letter, read it, and stuck it
into his breast-pocket, then he shouted, "Shoulder your arms!"
The trumpeters sounded a retreat; the cumbrous cannon were wheeled back
again, and the threatening convoy took their way back to the barracks,
from whence they had so lately come.
But the red-coated courier stood beating on the door of the Assembly
House with the knob of his riding-whip, and calling, "Open, in the
King's name!"