A day or two later the lad was on his feet again. Such tough fellows as
he, born and bred on the puszta, do not linger long on the sick list
when once the crisis is past. They abhor bed. So on the third day he
told the doctor that he wished to get back to the horses at his place of
service.
"Wait a bit, Sandor, my boy. Somebody has to speak with you first."
"Somebody" turned out to be the examining magistrate. On the third day,
after the report, this official, with his notary and a gendarme, arrived
at Mata to conduct the formal inquiry. The accused--the young woman--had
already been examined, and had given a full account of everything. She
denied nothing, only saying in her defence that she was very much in
love with Sandor, and wished to make him love her as well.
All this was taken down in the protocol and signed. Nothing now remained
but to confront the prisoner with her victim. And this was done as soon
as the herdsman had regained sufficient strength.
Meanwhile he never once uttered the girl's name in the doctor's
presence, pretending not to know that she had been in the house nursing
him, and as the young man recovered consciousness, she ceased to show
herself at all. Before confronting her with him, the magistrate read out
the deposition to the girl, who confirmed it anew, and would not have a
word altered.
Then Sandor Decsi was brought forward.
As soon as the csikos entered the room he began to act a preconcerted
role. His swaggering betyar airs were such that one would have thought
he had only learnt to play the csikos on the stage. When the judge asked
his name he stared at him over his shoulder.
"My worthy name? Sandor Decsi! I have hurt no one, nor have I stolen
anything, that I should be dragged here by gendarmes. Besides, I am not
under civil authority. I am still a soldier of the Emperor, and if
anyone has a complaint against me, let him go before the regimental
authorities, and there I will answer him."
The magistrate silenced him. "Gently, young man, no one is accusing you
of anything. We only want enlightenment in an affair closely concerning
yourself. That is the object of this investigation. Tell us when were
you last in the taproom of the Hortobagy inn?"
"I can inform you exactly. What is there to hide? But first send away
this gendarme at my back. Because if he should happen to come too near,
I am touchy and might give him a blow."
"Now, now, not so fast, young fellow. The gendarme is not guarding you.
Tell us when it was that you visited Miss Klari here--the day she served
you with wine?"
"Well, I will as soon as I have got my wits together. The last time I
was at the Hortobagy inn was last year, on Demeter's day, when they
engage the shepherds. Then they took me for a soldier, and I have not
been in the place since."
"Sandor!" broke in the girl.
"Yes, Sandor is my name. So they christened me."
"Then you were not there three days ago, when the barmaid gave you the
wine mixed with mandragora, which made you so ill?"
"I _never_ was at the Hortobagy inn, nor did I see Miss Klari. It is
half a year since I asked for any of her wine!"
"Sandor, you are lying for my sake!" cried the girl.
The judge grew angry.
"Do not try to mislead the authorities with your denials. The girl has
already confessed everything--that she made you drink wine poisoned with
mandrake roots."
"Why, then, the young woman lied," said the herdsman.
"But what reason could she have for accusing herself of a crime which
entails such heavy punishment?"
"Why, what reason? Because when the mad fit comes upon a girl, she
simply raves without rhyme or reason. Miss Klari fancies our eyes don't
meet each other's often enough, so she has an ill will against me, and
now she takes to accusing herself to compel me to let out the _other
one's_ name, out of sheer compassion--the pretty lass, to whom I went to
lose my soul and cure my heart, and who gave me the charm to drink.
Well, if I choose I'll tell, but if I don't, I won't. This is Miss
Klari's revenge for my having neither called on her, nor gone near her
since I came home on leave."
At these words the girl turned on him like a fury.
"Sandor!--you who have never lied in your life--what ails you? When the
one little lie, which they put in your mouth, would have saved you from
soldiering, that you could not tell! Now you deny being with me three
days ago. Then who brought me the comb that I have done up my hair
with?"
The csikos laughed grimly.
"Who brought it, and why? Surely the young lady knows better than I!"
"Sandor, this is not right of you! I don't mind if they put me in the
pillory for my wrong-doing, and lash and scourge me. Here is my head;
let them cut it off if they like. But don't tell me you never cared for
me, nor came to see me, for that is worse than death."
The judge flew into a rage. "Confound you," he cried. "Settle your love
affairs between yourselves. Since a flagrant case of poisoning has been
committed, I want to know who was the culprit!"
"Now answer!" exclaimed the girl, with flaming cheeks. "Answer that!"
"Well, well. Since I must, so be it, I can tell you all about it. On the
Ohat puszta I fell in with a gypsy band in tents. One of them, a lovely
girl, with eyes like sloes, who was standing outside, spoke to me, and
invited me in. They were roasting a sucking pig, and we enjoyed
ourselves. I drank their wine, and at once felt that it had a bitter
taste; but the kisses of the gypsy lass were so sweet that I forgot all
about it."
"You _lie_, _lie_, _lie_!" shrieked the girl. "You have invented that
story this very minute!"
The herdsman laughed loudly, clapped one hand to the crown of his head,
snapped his fingers in the air, and started his favourite song:
"Why not love this world of ours?
Gypsy maid, Magyar maid, both are flowers."
Not this very minute had he invented this tale, but on that night of
pain when the "Yellow Rose" had sat smoothing his pillows and bathing
his brow. Then, with his aching head, he had thought out a plan to save
his faithless sweetheart.
The judge struck his fist on the table.
"None of your nonsense before me, making fun of the matter."
"I make fun of the matter!" exclaimed the csikos, becoming serious
instantly. "I swear before God above, all I have said is true."
He raised his three fingers, and the girl screamed out,
"No, no! Do not perjure yourself! Do not risk the salvation of your
soul!"
"The devil take you both, for you are both mad." This was the judge's
verdict. "Notary, take down the herdsman's statement regarding the
gypsy, who will be charged with committing the crime. As to her
whereabouts, that the police must discover. It is their business. You
two can go; if necessary, we will summon you again."
Then they let the girl free. She deserved a little fatherly rebuke, and
that she got.
The lad remained behind to hear his deposition taken down, and to sign
it. The girl waited on the verandah for him to come out, his horse being
tethered to an acacia hard by.
The lad, however, first went to the doctor to thank him for his
unremitting kindness. The doctor having attended the inquiry, had, of
course, heard everything.
"Well, Sandor," he said, as soon as the thanks had been got over, "I
have seen many famous actors on the stage, but never one who played the
betyar as you did!"
"I did right, didn't I?" asked the lad gravely.
"Yes, indeed, you are an honourable fellow. But say a kind word to the
girl if you meet her. Poor thing, she never meant to do such wrong."
"I am not angry with her. May God bless you, sir, for your great
goodness."
As he stepped out on to the verandah, the girl stopped him, and seized
his hand.
"Sandor, what have you done? Sent your soul to perdition, sworn falsely,
told a lying tale, all to set me free! You have denied ever having loved
me, that my body may escape the lash, and my slender neck the blow that
would sever it. Why have you done this?"
"That is my affair. This much I will tell you; from henceforth, one of
us two I must hate and despise. Do not cry, you are not that one! I dare
no longer look in your eyes, because I see myself reflected there, and I
am worth no more than the broken button that is coming off my waistcoat.
God bless you."
With that he untied his horse from the acacia, sprang on to it, and
dashed off into the puszta.
The girl gazed and gazed after him, till her sight grew dim from tears.
Then she sought till she found the broken button he had cast on the
floor. This she placed next her heart.