AT HOME.
The dawn found A-dAśn alone on the wide heath,--a bare and desolate
plain before him, where nothing but earth and sky met the view, except
that in the distance the faint outline of a well-sweep could be
descried. A-dAśn turned his horse in that direction. The animal seemed
thirsty, and quickened his pace as he drew nearer the well. After
watering him and turning him loose to seek what forage the barren
heath had to offer, the rider sat down on the low well-curb and gazed
over the plain. But he was not long left to his meditations; the
distant neighing of a horse aroused him, and his faithful Ljubicza,
with an answering whinny, came trotting to his side, as if offering
himself for farther flight.
Resting one arm on the saddle, A-dAśn stood awaiting the stranger's
approach. It certainly could not be an enemy roaming the plain in that
manner; it must be a travelling companion, a fugitive like himself,
who had been attracted thither by the well-sweep, that lighthouse of
the arid plains. As he drew nearer, the unknown rider looked like
some stray member of a guerilla band. A bright red ribbon adorned his
round hat. Upon his closer approach A-dAśn recognised his old
acquaintance, Gregory Boksa, the ox-herd; and he was glad even of this
humble man's company in the lonely desert.
"Hurrah!" cried Gregory, as he rode up on his white-faced horse; "how
glad I am to see you, my dear sir! May Heaven preserve you! It is well
you made your escape, for they're having bad times back yonder. I
myself only got away with difficulty."
So saying, the driver of cattle dismounted and patted his horse on the
neck.
"Yes, sir," he resumed, "if old White-face hadn't held out as well as
he did, it would have been all over with me. You see, when I learned
that our people had laid down their arms, I said to myself: 'The
Russians sha'n't have my hundred head of cattle for nothing.' So I
drove the herd to VAirad through the BelA(C)nyes forest, and walked into
the Russian camp. 'I've got some cattle to sell,' said I, 'and if you
want to buy, now's your chance.' The stupid Russians snapped at the
bait, agreed to my price after a little haggling, and gave me a
money-order for the lot. I was to go to RideghvAiry, said they, and he
would pay me the cash."
"Is RideghvAiry in VAirad?" asked A-dAśn quickly.
"Yes, indeed, he's there; but I took good care not to go near him. I
was glad enough to be off before dog or cat could see me. The devil
take the money! RideghvAiry would have paid me in coin that I had no
use for."
A-dAśn felt lighter of heart. If RideghvAiry was in VAirad, he himself
owed his life a second time to Leonin Ramiroff; for had not the latter
arrested him, he would have run into the arms of the former. What if
Leonin had foreseen this and stopped him on purpose? Perhaps, too, his
escape was really all of his friend's planning, and he had thus shown
himself a true friend after all. Whether it was so or not, A-dAśn clung
to the belief that Leonin had behaved with noble generosity toward his
old friend.
"I am very grateful to you," said he, "for telling me where RideghvAiry
is at present. In all the world there is no one I am so anxious to
avoid."
"But what are your plans?" asked Boksa.
"I shall go to the very first Austrian officer I can find and tell him
who I am. He shall do what he chooses with me. I am going to face the
music."
This proposal by no means met with the other's approval. "That is not
wise on your part," he remonstrated. "No, indeed! I am a simple man,
but I can't approve of your course. When the conqueror is in his first
frenzy, I say, keep out of his way, for he is sure to show no mercy to
his first victims. Why, then, such haste?"
"You don't suppose I care to lie hidden in the woods month after
month, or wander about like a tramp and be hunted from one county to
another?"
"No, no," returned Gregory, "I don't say you should do that, though
for myself I don't expect anything better. But you are a nobleman with
an estate of your own; go home and take your ease, as becomes a man of
your station, until they choose to send for you."
"And so make my hard fate all the harder to bear, after seeing again
those that are dearest to me in the world? No; both for their sakes
and for my own I must refuse to follow any such advice."
"When did you last see your family?"
"It is now four months since I left Nemesdomb."
"And when did you last visit KAśrAśs Island?"
"I have never been there at all. My father bought that summer
residence while I was abroad, and since my return I have had no
leisure for summer vacations."
"Very well, sir. I think now I understand you perfectly. With my poor
wits I can easily see that a person of your importance would prefer
not to surrender himself a prisoner to the first corporal or sergeant
that comes along. You wouldn't enjoy being driven through the nearest
market-town with your hands tied behind you,--the sport of your
enemies. Now supposing you let me lead you, by lonely paths where we
sha'n't meet a soul, to the house of an acquaintance,--an
out-of-the-way place,--where you can write a letter to the Austrian
commander-in-chief, and quietly wait for things to take their course.
A thousand things may happen in the meantime. Why should you rush to
your destruction? Wait and let your fate come to you, I say, and
meantime keep your pipe lighted. If I were a great lord, that's what I
should do."
"I accept your offer, my good Boksa," returned A-dAśn. "Your head seems
better than mine. Conduct me whither you will."
"All right!" responded the other. "Let us mount and be off."
Throughout the night the full moon lighted the two travellers on their
way. Many stretches, too, of dry, hard ground were encountered, where
more rapid progress was possible than among the bulrushes and tall
reeds. The horses, moreover, found occasional forage, stout grass and
blackberry bushes being abundant. Toward morning they came to a river,
and here Boksa and his charge rested in the hut of a fisherman who was
known to the ox-herd, and who served his guests a hotly spiced
fish-chowder. After partaking of it A-dAśn stretched himself on the rush
mat, and, wearied as he was with his long wanderings, slept as soundly
as a tired child. When he awoke, Boksa was sitting on the door-sill
near him.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Near sunset," was the answer.
"So late as that? Why didn't you wake me?"
"Ah, that would have been a sin. You were at home, talking with your
little boy."
The road lay thenceforth along the riverside. It was late in the
evening when they came to an island of some size lying in the middle
of the stream, and communicating by a bridge with the bank on which
A-dAśn and his guide were standing.
"Here we are," announced Boksa. "This is where my acquaintance
lives,--the one I was going to bring you to."
"What is his name?" asked A-dAśn.
"You'll know him when you see him," replied the other evasively.
"But shall I not be a burden to him?"
"No, indeed."
They rode over the bridge, and an ivy-covered villa came to view
through the foliage. Proceeding up the gravel path to the veranda,
they alighted and gave their horses to the stable-boy. Through the
long windows that opened on the veranda could be seen a lamp and
people gathered about it. A young woman sat with a sleeping child in
her lap; an older lady, with a face of marble pallor, sat before an
open Bible; and a young man held a little boy on his knee and drew
pictures for him on a slate. A big Newfoundland dog suddenly rose
from the corner where he was sleeping, and, with a half-suppressed
bark of eager expectation, came bounding to the door.
"Where am I?" stammered A-dAśn in great agitation.
"At home."