"Stop!" he roared again, "or I will shoot you through the legs."
As I had not stopped for the sake of my head, I naturally had no
superior partiality for my legs; and so we continued to run--Heaven
knows how long!--until we were a good way through the forest. Neither
of us had the slightest idea of capitulating; but I began to perceive
that the distance between us was gradually decreasing (the old man had
learned to run in 1809),[55] and I began to smell the brass-headed
cane very near me.
[Footnote 55: Alluding to the flight of the Hungarian volunteers at
Raab, before Napoleon.]
My worthy uncle had been endeavouring to reach my back with this cane
for some minutes, when, just as he was about to aim a cruel blow, I
disappeared from his sight.
The good man had not much time for astonishment; for the next instant
the earth opened beneath him, and he too fell head foremost, from
depth to depth, as I had done, wondering in which part of the lower
world we should alight.
On reaching the bottom, we found ourselves in total darkness.
"O me! O me!" groaned the worthy man; "I am d----d--dead and d----d!
there is no doubt of it. Wo to my sinful soul! The good priest always
warned me not to swear, or the devil would carry me away; and now he
has me--with the guilt of meditated murder on my soul, too! Oh! Heaven
be merciful to my sinful soul, and I will never swear again, nor
poach! I will pay the priest's tithes, as much as is due, and give my
daughter to her lover--only let me be saved from perdition!"
The good man trembled like a jelly, firmly believing he was at least
in the vestibule of purgatory. Meantime, I had a good opportunity of
hearing his resolutions of amendment; and plainly enough, too, for we
had both fallen into the same wolf's trap, full twelve feet under
ground, and were thus in tolerably good arrest for the present.
I began to reflect that although I had escaped one danger, I had
probably fallen into another not less alarming; for, if a troop of
wolves came tumbling in upon us, our resurrection would certainly be
divested of all fleshly encumbrances.
However, it was no use to be afraid. One thing was certain: if the
wolves came they would devour us, and if they did not come they would
not devour us; but in either case, fear was useless. And, consoling
myself with this argument, I took my pipe and tobacco-pouch from my
pocket--for the pit was filled with innumerable gnats.
"Mercy on my sinful soul!" roared my uncle, starting up as he saw the
light of my pipe in the darkness.
Of course I sat as still as a hare, determined to let him tremble a
little longer; but, in the excess of his despair, he hit me such a
kick with his spurred foot, that I was under the necessity of
addressing him.
"Don't be uneasy, uncle," I exclaimed; "it is certainly an unfortunate
occurrence, but you need not break your neighbour's bones."
"Nephew!" cried my uncle, in a voice of joy, "Nephew Peti! are you
here too? are we alive? or where are we both, and how came we here?"
"Just as the rain comes from heaven, uncle, without a ladder; but let
us rejoice that we have reached the bottom with sound limbs."
"Well, but where are we?"
"Why, in a wolf's pit."
"A wolf's pit! ten thousand fiery"--
"Softly, softly, uncle; remember the promises you have just made."
"Just made! did I know I was in a wolf's pit? I thought I was in a far
more honourable place. How the tartar are we to get out of this?
Three-and-thirty centuries of devils' livers! how the scorpion can I
annihilate the accursed philosophy which dug a pit here? The leprosy
take the idiot who invented it!--nine bucketfuls of dragons' nails!
how the Alp can we be heard from this infernal hole?" and in this
strain he continued, till the pit resounded with his elocution. At
last, turning to me, "Nephew," he said, "just let me get up on your
shoulders and see if there is any way of getting out of this, and if I
succeed, I will help you up afterwards."
I submitted, and he mounted me, shouting to the full extent of his
voice, while his enormous weight, and the exertions he made at each
shout, made my position somewhat painful.
"You had better not make so much noise, dear uncle," I said, hoping he
would dismount, "for if the wolves come in upon us we shall need no
help out again."
At last my worthy uncle dismounted, and sat down, muttering and
swearing to himself.
"Chains and dungeons! what is this?" he exclaimed, drawing a white
heap from under his feet.
It was the dead goose which was placed on the top of the pit to allure
the wolves, and had made its descent into the pit with us.
"But what are we to do here till the morning?" said my uncle; "the
gnats will devour us. I thought the devils were pinching me with fiery
tweezers!"
"Just do as I do, uncle; light your pipe and fumigate them."
"Well, you are a man, nephew; I swear there's something in you;" and,
seeing there was nothing better to do, he lighted his pipe, and we
smoked together as if for a wager.
"But now, nephew," began my uncle, after some silence, speaking with
his pipe in his mouth, while he stirred the bowl with his little
finger, "what the tartar have you to do in my house, eh?"
"Well, uncle, here or there, why should I deny it, I am in love with
Esztike."
"But the proper way would have been to speak to me first."
"I am not in love with you, uncle."
"Nor I with you; but to come to the point, what business have you with
the girl? love her, if you will, and as much as you like, but don't
come near her; you can love her just as well nine miles off!"
"But that won't do, uncle. I don't want to love Esztike from such a
distance. It was far enough between our two roofs; but if she has no
objection, and no peculiar animosity to me--here, in the wolf's pit,
with all solemnity, I demand her dear little hand, and if Mrs. Debora
is to go with her, I will take her too."
"Take the tartar! why, she is my stepmother! You don't want to be my
son and my father at once, do you? But I'll tell you what, nephew, you
are still a child, and, what's more, you have nothing to break into
your milk."
"Very true, uncle, nor the milk to break anything into; but the
Almighty is rich, and He will assist us."
"Heaven does not make banknotes for anybody," said the old man,
holding his pipe in the palm of his hand; "and you need not expect
roasted sparrows to fly into your mouth, though you hold it open till
doomsday!"
"Well, but what is not may yet be; in the beginning there was nothing,
as the Bible tells us. I will go to Pesth, finish my studies, and be a
_tekintetes ur_[56] and advocate."
[Footnote 56: _Tekintetes ur_, respectable sir--a title.]
"A starving candidate!" interrupted my uncle; "it would have been
better if you had been a priest; your father always wished it, honest
man! but you were an obstinate rascal all your life. You might have
been a chaplain now, and the deuce would not have brought us here; but
I've said my word, and I'll make two out of it. Hark ye! the elections
are approaching, and you may profit by them if you like; we will join
the national meeting, and see what can be made of you."
"And then Esztike will be mine?"
"Storms of Karpath! can you think of nothing but Esztike?"
"Uncle, they may make a lord-lieutenant of me if they like, only let
me have Esztike."
"When you get as far as that I should not care, hang you! but one
syllable does not cross your lips, nor do you approach my house before
the elections, or, by the wars of Attila! nothing shall come of it."
I was too happy not to promise anything, and we ended with a hearty
embrace, and my uncle saying, "Give me a light, my son,"--a peculiar
mark of favour on his part, for he always lighted his own pipe.
After this, I laid the old man's head on my breast, and he slept
soundly, and snored as loud as if he were blowing a bassoon with each
nostril. It was impossible for me to sleep--the very pit trembled with
the sounds; so I lay awake, thinking of my good fortune, and smoking
the gnats off us. At last the morning dawned, and, as our appetites
began to sharpen, we renewed our efforts to obtain delivery, shouting
by turns till we had no voices left, and then we sat down again and
smoked in despair.
Chance at last brought two foresters in our direction, who, observing
the smoke of our pipes from some distance, came to the rescue.
Luckily they happened to be two of my uncle's own men, and as they
drew us out of the jaws of death, he promised to turn their skins
inside out if ever they dared disclose where they had found us.
It was fortunate that we returned when we did, for the good folks were
just about to advertise us both.
* * * * *
For two long months I never spoke to Esztike, though I often saw her,
poor child! with swelled eyes and pale cheeks, and felt as if my heart
would burst; but I had promised, and I wished to keep my word.
At the end of the two months, the elections closed. It was all very
fine indeed, though, at this present moment I have no particular
recollection of anything, except that there was one fat lad advanced,
two others degraded, several more kicked out, and that, when it came
to my turn, I was taken by the throat, my hair cut, my attila slit up
the sides, one of my masticators drawn, and the oath administered.
Some days after the election, my uncle gave a great supper, to which
all the aunts and uncles of the village were invited, and myself among
the rest, though I was neither aunt nor uncle to anybody.
What this grand supper consisted of I know not; indeed I had important
reasons for remaining in ignorance till the present day.
The large table in the arbour was laid out for forty-eight persons,
and when I arrived the company was already assembled.
My little Esztike was busy with her guests, serving everybody, with
her sweet rosy face--for she had just come from the fire--and now and
then turning bashfully away, as one or other uncle tried to embrace
her; but with all her sweetness, and all her blushes, she still looked
very sad, poor child!
I bowed low as I entered, striking my spurs together, but the little
girl was so startled by my appearance that she overturned the Polish
soup she had in her hand over the head and ears of a certain uncle,
who complained of dulness of hearing ever afterwards.
"You are welcome, nephew!" cried Uncle Gergely, "though you come late;
you presume on your character of bridegroom."
My little Esztike grew very pale, and looked very sad too. Something
had fallen into her eyes, she said, turning away; but it was tears
that were in them.
"Really to see how these young people grow up!" said an important
assessor, who always sat on two chairs at once; "my niece Esztike will
very soon be marriageable."
"Not at all very soon," said Uncle Gergely, severing at one cut the
fork stuck in the goose's back, as if it had been a fibre; "she is now
a bride."
It needed no more for poor Esztike. She turned to go out, but the
landscape must have looked very confused, for she could scarcely find
the arbour door.
It never once entered her head, bless her! that she was my bride and I
her bridegroom, and that we were to be a pair.
"Esztike, bring the sugar-box," cried Mistress Debora, who enjoyed
what she believed to be our mortification. She had never ceased
exciting Uncle Gergely against Esztike and me since that memorable
day, and indeed she had reason enough, poor soul! for I had kept her a
week and a half in bed, with eyes blindfolded and ears stuffed,--and,
moreover, she now believed that I had killed her cat.
"Nephew!" cried Uncle Gergely, beckoning me; "run after her," he
whispered, "and console her a little, poor child! or she will cry her
soul out."
This needed no repetition. I darted after Esztike, and, seizing her
hand, pressed it to my lips. "Esztike, dear Esztike, one word!"
"Excuse me," she said faintly; "I feel very ill."
"My Esztike, do you know your future bridegroom?"
"May I die sooner than know him!"
"Then do not die, for he is now so near you that none can be nearer."
For the first time, the whole business began to dawn on her; and in an
instant all the blood rushed to her cheeks, and dyed them a deep
crimson.
Had I not caught her in my arms, she would have fallen. How quickly
her heart beat!--and oh! that sigh, which released it! I felt its deep
throb. Once more I strained her to my heart, and whispering--"But it
is all still a secret," I tore myself away, and hurried back to the
arbour.
Meanwhile, Uncle Gergely had announced the news, to the joy of all the
assembled guests, but the rage of Mistress Debora; and when I returned
I was received with such a burst of congratulations, that I was quite
overpowered.
"I will bet you anything," said Uncle Gergely, "that this girl will
bring anything back with her except the sugar-box, which she was sent
for."
He might have betted what he liked; when little Esztike returned, her
artless countenance beamed with some joyful mystery, but there was no
sugar-box in her hand.
Every eye was turned upon her; it was no wonder, therefore, that she
blushed like the morning sky.
"Well, where is the sugar-box?" cried Mistress Debora impatiently.
Esztike blushed still deeper, looked still more confused; but at last,
when she saw that everybody began to smile on her, she ran over to her
father and hid her burning face in his bosom. The old man laughed, and
kissed the little bride again and again, making her face still redder
with his rough beard.
"I will go for the sugar myself," said I; for I felt as if thorns were
under my feet.
"Certainly, go for it, both of you," said Uncle Gergely, putting
Esztike's hand in mine.
"And now I will answer for it, we shall not see the sugar box
to-night," remarked the assessor on the two chairs.
We went into the house together.
Who can presume to compare his happiness with mine? Who would be so
audacious as to seek words to express such happiness? I am silent; for
that small white hand, that smiling but fitful glance, those artless
lips, whose silence spoke so much--all were mine; and their
possession made me wealthier than if an empire had been conferred on
me. O God! what a beautiful thought of thine was love!
When we returned to the arbour with the sugar-box, the company had
long forgotten that they had drunk coffee; and we excused ourselves by
saying that there was no sugar in the box when we went into the house.
Fortunately they did not investigate the matter farther. So far was
true--the box was empty when we went for it; but when we returned with
it--there was still nothing more in it!
* * * * *
"This day two months I will be glad to see you all at the wedding."
And with these words, my uncle closed the _fiançailles_.
* * * * *
But the will of poor mortals is in the keeping of God.
Before the two months were over, my uncle was obliged to take a long
journey--so long, that he could not even take his pipe with him! He
blessed us both, and died like a good Christian, scarcely cursing the
doctor and the medicines; and we buried my good uncle, Gergely
Sonkolyi.
Esztike and I mourned for him a whole year--outwardly; for in our
hearts we remember him as tenderly to this day as if he had died but
yesterday. And this was the reason that I could never call him
'father,' for there is no advancement in death: in whatever relation
we die, there we remain.
When the year was out, that happy moment arrived when my earthly
paradise was at last attained, and I pressed to my heart my own dear
Esztike.
Never, indeed, did such sweetness meet my lips, as when for the first
time she kissed me of her own good-will. I remember it all well to
this day.
And yet it was a long while ago.
That beautiful little sylph-like form, which in those days I could
have spanned, has now so increased in size that I have enough to do to
embrace it with both arms; but for all that, I love her as my very
soul's core.
* * * * *
Mistress Debora still lives and rules, though unable to move a member
of her body--her tongue always excepted. This member is still sound
and healthy; and she has engaged herself to teach our grandchildren to
speak. Heaven may grant it to her; but it is not my prayer.