A POSTHUMOUS MESSAGE.
In the rainy autumn days the Baradlay family removed from KAśrAśs Island
to Nemesdomb. The latter was no longer a hospital: the patients had
been elsewhere provided for, and all traces of war and bloodshed had
disappeared.
One evening, when the little family was gathered about the lamp, the
door opened and a guest entered unannounced. It was a guest not wont
to stand on ceremony, a guest whose right it was to enter any house at
any time, whether its inmates were at table, at prayers, or whatever
they might be doing. His uniform--that of the imperial police--was his
passport. He raised his hand to his cap in military salute.
"Pardon me for disturbing you at so late an hour," said he in German;
"but I bring a despatch from Pest directed to Baron Edmund von
Baradlay."
So the fatal summons had come at last!
A-dAśn took a lamp from the table. "That is my name," said he, calmly.
"Will you please come with me to my room?"
"Excuse me; I have also letters for the two ladies,--the dowager
Baroness Casimir von Baradlay and the young Baroness von Baradlay."
The messenger took from his pocketbook the three letters, and
delivered them according to the addresses they bore. "I will await
your pleasure in the anteroom," said he, as he saluted and withdrew.
All three looked at their letters with pale faces, as one scrutinises
a missive he fears to open and read. Each of the letters bore the
government seal, and was addressed in the clear, caligraphic hand of
an office clerk.
Each contained, in the same caligraphic handwriting, the following:
"It is my duty to forward to you the enclosed communication, which has
been officially examined by me, and found to contain no objectionable
matter."
Then followed an illegible scrawl as signature. The "enclosed
communication" proved in each case to be a letter from JenA'. A-dAśn's
ran as follows:
"DEAR EDMUND:--To-day I bring to its fulfilment that
for which I have lived. I die for the cause I have
embraced. Be not bowed down with sadness at my fate; I
go to meet it with head erect. I leave you my blessing,
and take my faith with me. The blood we shed will
moisten no thankless soil: from it will spring golden
harvests for our fatherland and for humanity. You who
survive will rear again the structure that now falls in
ruins over our heads. Sooner or later the helm of the
ship of state will come into your hands. I die with
entire submission to the decrees of destiny. Dry
Aranka's tears; kiss for me little BA(C)la and the baby,
and when they ask whither I have gone, say I am in your
heart. For yourself, never lose courage; live for our
family and our country, which may God prosper for ages
to come!
Your brother,
"EUGEN."
The parting message to Aranka was thus conceived:
"MY DEAR, MY BELOVED ARANKA:--Your noble words still
ring in my ears,--'Do what your heart bids you.' I have
done it. Forgive me for causing you pain by my death. I
would have you, while you weep for me, still be
comforted. Do not sadden your little ones by showing
them a sorrowful face. You know how quickly sadness in
you affects them, and how you are thus in danger of
blighting the joy of their innocent young lives. Be
good to my mother and brothers; they will care for you.
Veil the little portrait for awhile, that it may not
too often bring to mind sad thoughts of the past. I
will spare you the pain of reading more. I would leave
you in such a way that you may not be bowed down with
grief at my going. I send you a kiss through the air;
it will reach you from the heavens above. May God keep
you for ever. Even in death,
"Your ever loving
"EUGEN."
To his mother the young man sent the following message:
"MY DEAR, MY ADORED MOTHER:--The words with which I
parted from you I now repeat once more,--I love you.
You no longer fear that Aranka's little ones will come
to want, do you? Heaven has ordered all things
well,--both for him who dies, and for those that are
left behind. You have a strong nature, an exalted soul,
and I need not leave you any strength of mine. The
mother of the Gracchi received into her arms her
murdered sons, and wept not. For those that die a
glorious death their mothers need shed no tears,--so
you have told us. Therefore, do not mourn. With true
Christian submission say, 'Father, thy will be done!'
And bear no one any malice because of my death; forgive
even her who by her accusation has driven me to an
early grave, and do not let her know how much good she
has really done by her criminal act. She has made death
easy for me, and I thank her. I die at peace with all
the world, and I trust that no one harbours any ill
will against me. An hour more, and I shall have joined
my father up yonder. Of us three boys, you both showed
me the greatest affection. When I was small and you
used to fall out with each other, I was often the means
of effecting a reconciliation. Now once more that shall
be my mission. They are calling me. May God preserve
you, dear mother.
Your loving son,
"EUGEN."
Only a subdued sobbing was heard as they read their letters and
exchanged them. In the next room was a stranger who must not hear any
loud lamentation. But why did he linger? Who was to go and ask him?
The widow was the first to recover her composure. She dried her tears
and rose. "Check your grief for a moment," said she to the other two,
and then she went to the door and bade the messenger enter. "Have you
any further communication for us?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, drawing a small package from his breast pocket, and
delivering it to the baroness.
She opened it. It contained a blue silk waistcoat which Aranka had
embroidered with lilies of the valley and pansies. In the midst of the
embroidered flowers were three holes, each as large as a rifle ball,
singed and blood-stained at the edges. The embroidery and the
bullet-holes explained all.
The government emissary uttered no word, but for a moment, while the
packet was being opened, he removed his cap. The baroness forced
herself to bear up yet a little longer. With a firm step she went to a
cupboard; returning, she handed the man a gold coin. He murmured a
"thank you" and something about God's blessing; then he saluted and
withdrew.
The necessity of restraint being removed, the grief-stricken family
were at liberty to moisten the dear memento with their tears and pay
their loving tribute to the noble martyr's memory.