At the sound of those few words, "In the King's name," the door of the
Assembly House was immediately opened; the formula acted like magic.
There are two words which are often written down together, "Emperor" and
"King," wherein the outer world sees little difference, but for
Hungarians there is all the difference in the world. For the Magyar, the
first means only the foreign yoke, and all that it stands for; but the
second represents that rightful regal authority which in Hungary never
fails to win the loyalty and love of those to whom it appeals. And it is
a distinction which the world outside Hungary is sometimes slow to
recognise.
And so it was that when the red-coated courier appeared before the Pesth
tribunal he was received with the utmost respect. It was the office of
the head notary to open and read the missive, which he did first to
himself. When he had finished, tears stood in the strong man's eyes. And
as he began to read it aloud, his voice trembled audibly, and he was
visibly moved.
"WORSHIPFUL CITIZENS!
"His Majesty the King herewith, by this present royal
rescript, withdraws all vexatious edicts hitherto
issued, with the exception of his edict of tolerance
and that for the freeing of the serfs. He revokes the
compulsory order for the use of a foreign language,
and rehabilitates your council and restores your
constitution. He concludes a war carried on against
the will of the nation by an honourable peace. He asks
you, the members of the Pesth magistracy, to call a
general council and promulgate the constitution in
Pesth, and further orders that the holy crown of
Hungary be brought from Vienna to Buda, after which he
will summon Parliament and will be crowned there."
The last words were drowned by loud cries of "Long live the King!" while
the council members sprang up from their places huzzaing and cheering.
They seemed like changed beings. Even Tarhalmy, the grave phlegmatic
man, generally as cold as ice and a slave to duty, was transformed, and
his set, serious face flamed with a sudden enthusiasm.
"Now, gentlemen," he cried, "comes the new order, now we shall have
justice done. And before God and men can I now say, 'Woe to those who
have done this foul wrong to Mathias Raby.' I will justify him at the
bar of our country, and none who helped to persecute this brave man
shall escape unpunished. The nation shall judge him."
"Hear, hear!" shouted many voices, and the loudest of all was Petray's.
"Justice for Raby," exclaimed that worthy, "yes, it is right he should
have it. I have always told the lieutenant here what a sin and a shame
it was thus to compass his ruin."
"What?" cried Laskoy, "I, compassing Raby's ruin? What do you mean? Who
but you managed the whole business, I should like to know!"
"That's a lie!" retorted his antagonist, and the strife promised to be
endless, for the others now joined in lustily, and swords were all but
drawn.
Tarhalmy took his documents under his arm. "I am going," he said, "I
prefer to choose my own company."
* * * * *
Meantime, the news of the royal proclamation had spread like wild-fire,
and nothing else was talked of. Nagy (otherwise "Kurovics") hastened to
Janosics to impart to him the news that the members of the council were
quarrelling as to which one was guilty of Raby's condemnation, and that
it would be as well at any rate, it should not be laid at the door of
the prison officials.
So the two made for the condemned cell, where Raby had been dragged all
but unconscious.
The prisoner imagined they had come to lead him to the galleys.
"No, my friend, thank your stars you are not going there," shouted
Janosics, "you are reprieved! You are free!"
And a sudden thrill of joy born of his regained liberty, shot through
the exhausted frame of the prisoner, remembering he was not to be
scourged at the oar. But then his unbending spirit reasserted itself,
and he exclaimed proudly, "I need no man's grace, and I accept none of
your favours, I would rather die here!"
"You won't then do anything of the kind," retorted the gaoler, "but you
will just march! Here, thrust him out, you fellows," and he called up a
couple of warders who roughly seized the prisoner between them, and
carried him in spite of his struggles into the courtyard below. There
was a small iron door which led into a side thoroughfare, and this
Janosics opened and pushed Raby through it, out into the street the
other side.
There they left him on the cobbles, in a dead faint from the efforts he
had made, and there he lay like a lifeless log. The prison authorities
did not care on whom the blame for detaining Raby fell, but they were
determined it should not lay with them.
Janosics returned whistling into his room. But suddenly he ceased to
whistle; something seemed to be throttling him. His limbs too were
convulsed by a sudden tremor, and horrible spasms of pain shot through
his whole body. When he tried to cry out, he failed to utter a sound,
and only blood came from his mouth. And still that awful sensation of
strangulation oppressed him, so that he tugged at the kerchief about his
throat to get it off; it was the one Fruzsinka had worn. And the words
of the dead woman, her warning that none should come near her, came
back to him.
The doctor he sent for, directly he saw his patient, exclaimed in
horror, "This is the oriental plague," for he recognised the symptoms of
the fell malady.
And that word at once drove every living soul away from the unhappy man,
and he was left writhing in his agony behind the door till he was still,
for that meant he was dead. Then they sent two condemned felons to wrap
up the corpse in a horse-rug and carry it out into the cemetery there to
be buried like a dog. The only thing they troubled after was as to
whether enough quicklime had been thrown into the grave.
* * * * *
But Raby lay half-dead on the cobble-stones. There were no other houses
in the alley, save the monster barracks, the university hospital, and
the great stone rampart of the hinder part of the Assembly House.
As a rule, only one person went up that alley every day, and that was an
old Jew named Abraham. He was no longer bound by law to wear the red
mantle, and could go about in his black gown and kaftan. With him was a
red-haired boy, his youngest son, an intelligent lad who had excellent
legs and could run with the best.
But Abraham left him at the corner of the alley and went alone to the
little iron door.
There he was accustomed to wait each morning till a heyduke appeared.
Then he would push a paper containing a piece of gold under the door,
and receive in exchange another morsel of paper. This contained the
latest news of Rab Raby, and Abraham promptly gave it to the youngster
waiting at the corner, who forthwith would run with it to Buda, where
Mariska was waiting for it.
But on this particular morning, the Jew found no news of Raby, but
instead, the prisoner himself, lying on the stones, as one dead.
The old man raised no alarm, nor did he utter a word, but bending over
the prostrate man, laid his hand on Raby's heart to see if it yet beat.
When he had satisfied himself that Raby was still alive, Abraham wrapped
him up in his warm fur-lined mantle, took him in his arms, and carried
him to the corner of the alley, where he and his son between them
dragged him into a sedan-chair, and bore him off--whither no one knew!
* * * * *
A voice like the voice of the angels themselves (so it seemed to the
half-conscious man who heard it) sweet as the song of the spheres and
thrilling with some unwonted harmony which did not seem of this earth,
recalled the stricken soul of Mathias Raby back from the shadows of
death where it yet lingered.
"May heaven preserve you to us, poor Raby," whispered the voice.
The ex-prisoner awoke from his swoon to find himself in a warm room,
whose atmosphere was redolent with some refreshing fragrance, pillowed
on soft cushions, while above him were bending two blue eyes that seemed
as if they carried in their inmost depths, something of the light of
paradise itself. Such eyes, and who could forget them, once having seen
them?
* * * * *
But to this day the treasure-chest of Szent-Endre has never been found,
so effectually was it hidden from all men.
THE END.
_Jarrold & Sons, Ltd., Printers, The Empire Press, Norwich._
Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
original text have been corrected.
In Chapter III, "based on a false premiss" was changed to "based on a
false premise".
In Chapter V, "the gate of the vineyards were shut" was changed to "the
gates of the vineyards were shut".
In Chapter VIII, periods was added after "others lay dormant" and "she
has become a fine girl".
In Chapter XI, "_Did you call me, dear father?_ asked he girl" was
changed to "_Did you call me, dear father?_ asked the girl".
In Chapter XIV, "Thereupon, he sent the wooer to Fraulein, Fruzsinka"
was changed to "Thereupon, he sent the wooer to Fraulein Fruzsinka".
In Chapter XVI, "the csako on their heads" was changed to "the csako on
their heads".
In Chapter XVII, _"Why do you call him a "worshipful gentleman," asked
the president._ was changed to _"Why do you call him a 'worshipful
gentleman,'" asked the president._, and a period was changed to a
question mark after "in order to save his fellow-citizens from beggary".
In Chapter XIX, a period was changed to a question mark after "What
could be the reasons of his delay".
In Chapter XX, "a coquettishly clad peasant from the Aldfold" was
changed to "a coquettishly clad peasant from the Alfold", a quotation
mark was added before "These registered formulas are falsified", and "He
fancied al Pesth" was changed to "He fancied all Pesth".
In Chapter XXIII, "What for the children who are deserted by their
mothers?" was changed to "What, for the children who are deserted by
their mothers?"
In Chapter XXIX, missing periods were added after "Where all the others
are" and "to demand an explanation".
In Chapter XXXII, "said Raby, suiting the action to the word" was
changed to "said Raby, suiting the action to the word".
In Chapter XXXIII, "They stopped the calvacade" was changed to "They
stopped the cavalcade".
In Chapter XL, a period was changed to a question mark after "had not
the Emperor himself promised to come".
In Chapter XLIV, "A wasted and attentuated figure" was changed to "A
wasted and attenuated figure".
In Chapter XLVIII, a comma was added after "deceived by the patient's
symptoms".
End of Project Gutenberg's The Strange Story of Rab Ráby, by Mór Jókai