CHAPTER IV.

AFFAIRS OF STATE.

The year was a few weeks older since we saw Toekoely depart from Rumnik,

after reading the three letters, and behold, Michael Teleki still

lingered at Gyulafehervar, and had _not_ gone with the Transylvanian

forces to Deva.

He had been feeling ill for some days, and had not been able to leave

his room. A slow fever tormented his limbs, his face had lost its

colour, he was hardly able to hold himself up, and every joint ached

whenever he moved. He had need of repose, but not a single moment could

he have to himself, and just when he would have liked to have shown the

door to every worry and bother, the Prince at one moment, and the

Turkish Ambassador at another, were continually pressing their affairs

upon him.

At that moment his crony Nalaczi was with him, standing at the window,

while Teleki sat in an arm-chair. All his members were shaken by the

ague, his breath was burning hot, his face was as pale as wax, and he

could scarce keep his lips together.

By his chair stood his page--young Cserei--whilst huddled up in a corner

on one side was a scarce visible figure which clung close to the wall

with as miserable, shamefaced an expression as if it would have liked to

crawl right into it and be hidden. What with the darkness and its own

miserableness, we should scarce recognise this shape if Teleki did not

chance to give it a name, railing at it, from time to time, as if it

were a lifeless log, without even looking at it, for, in truth, his back

was turned upon it.

"I tell you, Master Szenasi, you are an infinitely useless

blockhead----"

"I humbly beg----"

"Don't beg anything. Here have I, worse luck, been entrusting you with a

small commission, in order that you might impart some wholesome

information to the people, and instead of that you go and fool them with

all sorts of old wives' stories."

"Begging your Excellency's pardon, I thought----"

"Thought? What business had you to think? You thought, perhaps, you were

doing me a service with your nonsense, eh?"

"Mr. Nalaczi said as much, your Excellency."

Mr. Nalaczi seemed to be sitting on thorns all this while.

"Now just see what a big fool you are," interrupted Teleki. "Mr. Nalaczi

_may_ have told you, for what I know, that it might be well for you to

use your influence with the common people by mentioning before them the

wonders which have recently taken place, and thereby encouraging them to

be loyal and friendly to each other, but I am sure he did not tell you

to manufacture wonders on your own account, and terrify the people by

spreading abroad rumours of coming war."

"I thought----" Here he stopped short, the worthy man was quite

incapable at that moment of completing his sentence.

"Thought! You thought, I suppose, that just as I was collecting armies,

you would do me a great service by preaching war? So far as I am

concerned, I should like to see every sword buried in the earth."

"Begging your Excellency's pardon----"

"Get out of my sight. Never let me see you again. In three days you must

leave Transylvania, or else I'll send you out, and you won't thank me

for that."

"May I humbly ask what I am to do if your Excellency withdraws your

favour from me?" whined the fellow.

"You may do as you like. Go to Szathmar and become the lacquey of Baron

Kopp, or the scribe of Master Kaszonyi. I'm just going to write to them.

I'll mention your name in my letter, and you can take it."

"And if they won't accept me?"

"Then you must tack on to someone else, anyhow you shan't starve. Only

get out of my sight as quickly as possible."

The "magister" withdrew in fear and trembling, wiping his eyes with his

pocket-handkerchief.

"Sir," said Nalaczi, when they were alone together, "this violence does

harm."

"The only way with such fellows is to bully them whatever they do, for

they are deceivers and traitors at heart, and would otherwise do you

mischief. Kick and beat them, chivy them from pillar to post, and make

them feel how wretched their lot is, if you don't want them to play off

their tricks upon you."

"I don't see it in that light. This irritability will do you no good."

"On the contrary it keeps me up. If I had not always given vent to my

feelings I should have been lying on a sick-bed long ago. Take these few

thalers, go after that good-for-nothing, and tell him that I am very

angry with him, and therefore he must try in future to deserve my

confidence better, in which case I shall not forget him. Tell him to

wait in the gate for the letter I am about to write, and when once he

has it in his hand let him get out of Transylvania as speedily as he

can. Remind him that I don't yet know about what happened in the square

at Klausenberg, and if I did know I would have him flogged out of the

realm; so let him look sharp about it."

Nalaczi laughed and went out.

Teleki sank back exhausted on his pillows, and made his page rub the

back of his neck violently with a piece of flannel.

At that instant the Prince entered. His face was wrath, and all because

of his sympathy. He began scolding Teleki on the very threshold.

"Why don't you lie down when I command you? Does it beseem a grown-up

man like you to be as disobedient as a capricious child? Why don't you

send for the doctor; why don't you be blooded?"

"There is nothing the matter with me, your Highness. It is only a little

_haemorrhoidalis alteratio_. I am used to it. It always plagues me at the

approach of the equinoxes."

"Ai, ai, Michael Teleki, you don't get over me. You are very ill, I tell

you. Your mental anxiety has brought about this physical trouble. Does

it become a Christian man, I ask, to take on so because my little friend

Flora cannot have one particular man out of fifteen wooers, and a fellow

like Emeric, too--a mere dry stick of a man."

"I don't give it any particular importance."

"You are a bad Christian, I tell you, if you say that. You love neither

God nor man; neither your family, nor me----"

"Sir!" said Teleki, in a supplicating voice.

"For if you did love us, you would spare yourself and lie down, and not

get up again till you were quite well again."

"But if I lie down----"

"Yes, I know--other things will have a rest too. The bottom of the world

isn't going to fall out, I suppose, because you keep your bed for a day

or two. Come! look sharp! I will not go till I see you lying on your

bed."

What could Teleki do but lie down at the express command of his

Sovereign.

"And you won't get up again without my permission, mind," said the

Prince, signalling to young Cserei, and addressing the remainder of his

discourse to him. "And you, young man, take care that your master does

not leave his bed, do you hear? I command it, and, till he is quite

well, don't let him do any hard work, whether it be reading, writing, or

dictation. You have my authorisation to prevent it, and you must

rigorously do your duty. You will also allow nobody to enter this room,

except the doctor and the members of the family. Now, mind what I say!

As for you, Master Teleki, you will wrap yourself well up and get

yourself well rubbed all over the body with a woollen cloth, clap a

mustard poultice on your neck and keep it there as long as you can bear

it, and towards evening have a hot bath, with salt and bran in it; and

if you won't have a vein opened put six leeches on your temples, and the

doctor will tell you what else to do. And in any case don't fail to take

some of these _pilulae de cynoglosso_. Their effect is infallible."

Whereupon the Prince pressed into Teleki's hand a box full of those

harmless medicaments which, under the name of dog's-tongue pills, were

then the vogue in all domestic repositories.

"All will be well, your Highness."

"Let us hope so! Towards evening I will come and see you again."

And then the Prince withdrew with an air of satisfaction, thinking that

he had given the fellow a good frightening.

Scarce had he closed the door behind him than Teleki beckoned to Cserei

to bring him the letters which had just arrived.

The page regarded him dubiously. "The Prince forbade me to do so," he

observed conscientiously.

"The Prince loves to have his joke," returned the counsellor. "I like my

joke, too, when I've time for it. Break open those letters and read them

to me."

"But what will the Prince say?"

"It is I who command you, my son, not the Prince. Read them, I say, and

don't mind if you hear me groan."

Cserei looked at the seal of one of the letters and durst not break it

open.

"Your Excellency, that is a _secretum sigillum_."

"Break it open like a man, I say. Such secrets are not dangerous to you;

you are a child to be afraid of such things."

Cserei opened the letter, and glancing at the signature, stammered in a

scarce audible voice: "Leopoldus."[5]

[Footnote 5: _i.e._ the Emperor Leopold.]

Teleki, resting on his elbows, listened attentively.

"YOUR HIGHNESS AND MY WELL-DISPOSED FRIEND--I have

heard from Baron Mendenzi Kopp and worthy Master

Kaszonyi of your Excellency's good dispositions

towards me and Christendom, and your readiness to help

in the present disturbances. All my own efforts will

be directed to the preservation of the rights and

liberties of the Christian Princes, so that there may

not be the slightest occasion that the Turkish War

should extend, and that the whole power of the Ottoman

Empire should be hurled on me and my dominions. But I

hope that the fury of these barbarians, by the

combination of the foreign kings and princes, shall,

with God's assistance, be so opposed and thwarted as

to make them turn back from the league of the combined

faithful hosts. Meanwhile, I assure your Excellency

and the Estates of Transylvania of my protection, so

long as you continue well-disposed towards me, and I

entrust the maintenance of this good understanding

between us to Messrs. the illustrious Baron Kopp and

the Honourable Mr. Kaszonyi. Wishing your Excellency

good health and all manner of good fortune, etc.,

etc."

Cserei looked at the doors and windows in terror, for fear someone might

be listening.

"And now let us read the second letter."

Cserei's top-knot regularly began to sweat when he recognised at the

bottom of the opened letter the signature of the Grand Vizier, who thus

wrote to the Prince:

"MOST ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE, HEARTY LOVE AND

GREETING!--We would inform thee of our grace and

favour that we have sent a part of our army to the

assistance of the imprisoned heroes in our most mighty

master the Sultan's fortress of Nyitra, where the

faithless foe are besieging them. It is therefore

necessary that thou with thy whole host and all the

necessary muniments of war should hasten thither

without loss of time, so as to unite both in heart and

deed with our warriors, who are on their way against

the enemy. We believe that by the grace of God thou

wilt be ready to render useful service to the mighty

Sultan, and so be entitled to participate in his

favour and liberality. We, moreover, after the end of

the solemn feast days which we are wont to keep after

our fasts are over, will follow our advance guards

with our countless hosts, and thou meanwhile must

manfully take this business in hand, so that thy

loyalty may shine the more gloriously in martial

deeds. Peace be to those who are in the obedience of

God."

Poor Cserei, when he had read this letter through, had a worse fit of

ague than his master. He anxiously watched the face of the statesman,

but the only thing visible in his features was bodily suffering. There

was no sign of mental disturbance.

The blood flew to his face, the veins were throbbing visibly in his

temples.

"Come hither, my son," he said in a scarcely audible voice; "bring me a

glass of water, put into it as much rhubarb powder as would go on the

edge of a knife, and give it me to drink."

Cserei fancied that the sick Premier had not mastered the contents of

the letter because of a fresh access of fever, and, having prepared the

rhubarb water in a few moments, gave it him to drink, whereupon Teleki

crouched down beneath his coverlet. He could have done nothing better,

for now the ague burst forth again, so that he regularly shivered

beneath its attack. Cserei wanted to run for a doctor.

"Whither are you going?" asked Teleki. "Fetch ink and parchment, and

write."

The lad obeyed his command marvelling.

"Bring hither the round table and sit down beside it. Write what I tell

you."

The pen shook in the lad's hand, and he kept dipping it into the sand

instead of into the ink.

Teleki, in a broken voice, dictated a letter as well as the fever would

allow him.

"MOST EXALTED GRAND VIZIER AND WELL-BELOVED SIR,--We

learn from your Highness's dispatch that the armies of

the Sublime Sultan who have lately been besieging the

fortress of Nyitra are now endeavouring to combine

their forces, and though this realm has but a meagre

possession of the muniments of war remaining to it, we

shall be prepared most punctually to hold at your

Highness's gracious disposition as much, though it be

but little, forage, hay, and other necessary stores as

we still possess, you making allowance for all

inevitable defects and shortcomings. Moreover, rumour

has it that the hostile hosts are beginning to show

themselves on the borders of Transylvania, which

irruption, though it be no secret, is yet to be

confirmed, and should it be so we must meet it with

all our attention and energy. As to this your Highness

shall be informed in good time, and in the meanwhile

we commit you to God's gracious favour, etc., etc."

Cserei sighed and thought to himself: "I wonder whence all the hay and

oats is to come?"

But Teleki knew very well that in consequence of last year's bad

harvests and inundations the Turkish army was suffering severely from

want of hay, so that what with him was an occasion for delay, with them

was an occasion for hurrying--whence we may draw the reflection that the

great events of this world are built upon haycocks!

"Address the second letter," continued Teleki, "to his Excellency Baron

Mendenzi Kopp and to the honourable Achatius Kaszonyi, commandants of

the fortress of Szathmar," and he thus went on dictating to Cserei,

whilst in the intervals of silence the groans which the ague forced from

his breast were distinctly audible.

"With joy we learn of the intention of your Honours to

endeavour to seize one of the gates of entrance of the

enemy of our faith, through which he was always ready

to come for our destruction. May the God of mercy

forward the designs of your Excellencies. If, on this

occasion, your Excellencies could also find time to

make a feigned attack upon Transylvania in order to

give us a reasonable excuse of our inability to lend

the Turks the assistance they expect from us, you

would make matters easier for us, and render us an

essential service. On the other hand, if we should be

compelled against our wills to send our soldiers

against the Christian camp, in conjunction with the

enemies of our faith, we assure your Excellencies that

our host will be a purely nominal one, etc., etc.

"P.S.--The bearer of this letter can be employed by

your Excellencies as a courier or otherwise."

Cserei looked with amazement at the man in whom mental vivacity seemed

to rise triumphant even over the lassitude of fever.

"Take a third sheet of paper, and address it to the Honourable Ladislaus

Ebeni, Lieutenant-Governor of the fortress of Klausenburg.

"We hasten to inform your Honour that preparations are

being made by the Commandant of the fortress of

Szathmar, which leads us to conjecture that he

meditates making an irruption into Transylvania. It

may, of course, be merely a feint, but your Honour

would do well to be prepared and under arms, lest he

have designs against us, and is not merely making a

noise. We, meanwhile, will postpone the advance of our

arms into Hungary, lest, while we are attacking on one

side, we leave Transylvania defenceless on the other.

Once more we counsel your Honour to use the utmost

caution, etc."

"And now take these letters and carry them to the Prince, that he may

sign them."

"And what if he box my ears for allowing your Excellency to dictate?"

said the frightened lad.

"Never mind it, my son, you will have suffered for your country. I, too,

have had buffets enough in my time, not only when I was a child, but

since I have grown up." And with that he turned his face towards the

wall and pulled the coverlet over him.

Fortunately Cserei found Apafi in the apartment of the consort, and thus

avoided the box on the ear, got the letters signed, and dispatched them

all in different directions, so that all three got into the proper hands

in the shortest conceivable time. And now let us see the result.

The Grand Vizier blasphemed when he had read his, and swore emphatically

that if there were no hay in Transylvania he would make hay of their

Excellencies.

Baron Kopp and Mr. Kaszonyi chuckled together over _their_ letter. The

Commandant murmured gruffly: "I don't care, so you needn't."

Mr. Ebeni, however, on reading his letter, deposited it neatly among the

public archives, growling angrily:

"If I were to call the people to arms at every wild alarm or idle

rumour, I should have nothing else to do all day long. It is a pity that

Teleki hasn't something better to do than to bother me continually with

his scribble."

The Slaves of the Padishah · 第 4 / 32 章