MR. MARGARI
Mr. Margari had got on in the world. He was now a real gentleman who had
a four-roomed domicile, paid house-rent, and had even gone the length of
marrying. And can you guess the lady of his choice?--why it was no other
than Miss Clementina. That worthy virgin was of just the proper age for
him, moreover a cosy little bit of cash might safely be assumed to go
with her, which exercised a strong attraction upon Mr. Margari--and goes
to prove that iron is not the only metal susceptible of the influence of
the magnet. The worthy maiden had persuaded her respected swain to
abduct her from Hidvár, an enterprise which he had nobly performed while
the lady of the house was travelling with her husband to Arad. It is
true there was no necessity whatever for an elopement, for the baroness
was very far from being one of those dragons in feminine shape who love
to tear asunder hearts that are burning for each other. If Mr. Margari
had respectfully solicited the hand of her lady-companion, there is no
reason to suppose he would have sued in vain; but Clementina was far too
romantic for anything so humdrum as that. She insisted that he should
abduct her, at night too and through a window, although she had the key
of every door close at hand.
So Margari had managed to set up as a gentleman and become his own
master. Clementina's money bought the furniture and they even sported a
musical clock.
Mr. Margari had a smoking-room all to himself, in which he did nothing
all day but smoke his pipe. No more work for him now, no more copying of
MSS. There the happy husband, dressed in a flowered dressing-gown,
stretched himself out at full length on the sofa and blew clouds of
smoke all around him out of his long csibuk, stuffed full with the best
Turkish tobacco.
Clementina was always scolding him for putting his legs upon the sofa.
It was a nasty habit she said, and not only unbecoming but expensive,
because it ruined the furniture. Clementina, in fact, was scolding him
all day; and this was very natural, for any woman who has been condemned
to obsequious servility for thirty whole years and has silently endured
the caprices of her betters all that time, when she sets up as a lady on
her own account will do her best to compensate herself for this
interminable suppression of her natural instincts. But Mr. Margari used
only to laugh when his wife began nagging at him. "_Alios jam vidi ego
ventos, aliasque procellas_," he would say. He was only too glad to have
a home of his own at all.
"Don't worry, woman!" he would say with reference to the furniture,
"when that's worn out, I'll buy some more. John Lapussa, Esq., will give
me whatever I want."
"He may be fool enough to do so now," replied Clementina, "but just you
wait till he has won his action against Madame Langai and has no further
need of you, he won't care two pence for you then. I know Mr. John
Lapussa."
"So do I," retorted Margari. "He has paid me hitherto to say what he
tells me, he shall pay me hereafter for holding my tongue. John Lapussa,
Esq., will have to take care that Margari has plenty to eat and decent
clothes to put on, for, if Margari grows hungry, Margari will bite."
Mr. Margari spoke with an air of such impertinent assurance and blew
about such clouds of smoke that Clementina began to respect him, and sat
down on the sofa by his side, no doubt to protect her property. "If you
hold his honour so completely in the palm of your hand," said she, "why
don't you provide better for yourself and me? It is all very well for
his honour to fork out now when you press him, but money goes and more
is wanted. One of these days something will happen to him and he will
die,--and you can't follow him to the moon."
This was indeed a hard nut for Margari to crack. One cannot squeeze much
out of dead men. Such an impression did the remark make upon him that he
took his feet off the sofa and sat bolt upright.
"Then what do you think I ought to do?" he asked his wife.
"Well, it is of no use his doling you out mere driblets; for the great
services you have rendered him he ought to give you something more in
proportion to your merits--a little estate in the country, for instance.
There we could settle down comfortably."
"True, and he has lots of such little properties which are of no use to
him at all. What do you say, for instance, to an estate of one hundred
acres or so; it would be a mere flea-bite to him. But flea-bite or no
flea-bite that's all one to me. I _wish_ him to give it me and give it
he must. I mean to pick and choose."
"And suppose he says no?"
"He'll never say that, or if he does, I shall say something to somebody
and then it will be he who will be sorry and not I. Oh, he'll take jolly
good care not to make Margari angry. His honour has much more need of
Margari's friendship than Margari has of his honour's."
And we shall very soon see under what auspices Margari hoped to get the
little country estate from Mr. John Lapussa as a reward for his faithful
services.
Meanwhile the action brought by Madame Langai against Mr. John Lapussa
was still in its initial stage. Both parties were inexhaustible in
producing documents and raising points of law, but it seemed highly
probable that Mr. John would win. Mr. John appeared almost daily before
the magistrate, whom he called his dear friend and whom he frequently
invited to dine, an invitation which, naturally, was never accepted. One
day Mr. Monori, for that was the worthy magistrate's name, asked Mr.
John whether he knew anything of a certain Margari who was soliciting
the post of a clerk in the district court and gave as his reference the
Lapussa family in whose service he had been for some years. Mr. John,
with his innate niggardliness, at once seized this opportunity for
disembarrassing himself of an importunate beggar by saddling the county
with him. He exalted "the worthy, excellent man" to the skies, and
especially praised his rectitude, his sobriety, his diligence!
"But is he trustworthy?" inquired the magistrate. "You see there are
various little cash payments he will have to see to, is he clean
handed?"
"As good as gold, I assure you. I could trust him with thousands. Why
some of my own bills are in his keeping--" and with that he proceeded to
say as many pretty things of Margari as if he were a horse dealer trying
to palm off a blind nag on some ignorant bumpkin at a fair.
In his delight at having so successfully rid himself of such an incubus,
he made his _valet-de-chambre_ slip over to Margari to tell the worthy
man to wait upon him on the morrow at 11 o'clock precisely, as he had a
very pleasant piece of news to impart to him; for he meant to make
Margari believe that it was through his, Mr. John Lapussa's special
influence, that he had obtained the coveted appointment and so get him
to renounce all further claims upon his old patron.
On the very same day Mr. John was surprised to receive a visit from the
magistrate, Mr. Monori, and this certainly was a wonder, for the
magistrate never made any but official visits.
"To what do I owe this extraordinary pleasure?" asked Mr. John,
familiarly inviting the magistrate to sit down on a couch.
"I have come in the matter of this Margari," said Monori, holding
himself very stiffly and fixing his eyes sharply on Mr. John. "Since our
conversation of this morning, the circumstance has come to my knowledge
that one of my colleagues in the county of Arad has succeeded in finding
the long-lost Coloman Lapussa."
At these words Mr. John began to smooth out the ends of his mustache and
chew them attentively.
"The young man confesses to having forged the bill, but asserts that it
was Margari who led him to do so, and that the bill signed by him was
originally for forty florins only, so that undoubtedly somebody else
must have turned it into 40,000."
Mr. John coughed very much at these words,--no doubt the bit of mustache
which he had bit off stuck in his throat.
"This is a very ticklish circumstance, I must confess," continued
Monori, "for although the young man's offence has thereby been
considerably lightened, yet the burden of the charge has now been
shifted to other shoulders hitherto quite free from suspicion. No doubt,
he being a minor, under strict control, did what he did as a mere
schoolboy frolic, but this Margari and an unknown somebody else will
find it not quite such a laughing matter."
Mr. John's mustache was by this time not enough for him, he began
nibbling his nails as well.
"But what are you driving at?" he said. "How does all this concern me?"
"It concerns you, sir, in this way: you told me that Margari was your
confidential agent, and therefore he must have destroyed the bill at
your bidding."
"I only said that to help him to get a small official post. I am
responsible for nobody. What have I to do with the characters of my
servants, my lacqueys."
"But you assured me that your bills often passed through his hands."
Mr. John fancied that the best way out of this unpleasant _cul-de-sac_
was by adopting a little energetic bluffing.
"What do you mean by cross-examining me in my own house?" he cried, with
affected _hauteur_, springing from the sofa.
The magistrate rose at the same time.
"Pardon me, but I am here not as a visitor, but in my official
capacity--as your judge."
And with that he coolly unbuttoned his _attila_[40] and drew forth from
the inside pocket a large sealed letter.
[Footnote 40: A fur pelisse, worn on state occasions.]
"You must swear to every one of the interrogatories administered to you
by me."
"I? I'll swear to nothing," cried Mr. John. "I am a Quaker and therefore
cannot take an oath."
"This document, sir, is a royal mandate and whoever refuses to obey it
is liable to penalties."
"What penalties?"
"A fine of eighty florins."
"Eighty florins? There you are then, take them!" cried Mr. John flinging
down the amount eagerly and thinking to himself that this mandate was
indeed a juridical masterpiece, not being binding on a rich man--for
what after all is eighty florins?
"Very good," said Mr. Monori, giving him a receipt for the amount, "I'll
come again to-morrow."
"What for?"
"I shall again call upon you to answer my interrogatories upon oath."
"And if I won't swear?"
"Why then you'll have to pay the court fine _toties-quoties_. A _juratus
tabulae regiae notarius_ will call regularly every day and exact the
fine from you until such time as you make up your mind to take the
oaths. Good-day."
After the magistrate had withdrawn Mr. John's fury reached its climax.
First of all he poured forth his wrath upon the poor inkstand, with the
ink from which Monori had written out the receipt. This he dashed to the
ground. The lacquey who rushed in at the commotion to inquire if his
honour had rung, he seized by the nape of the neck and flung out of the
room. Then he rushed after the man and pommelled him for daring to go
out before he had been told to go. Finally he dashed out and, for the
lowest silver coin he could make up his mind to part with, hired a
hackney coach to take him to his villa near the park, for thither he had
resolved to fly.
On arriving there he recovered himself somewhat.
So Coloman had been discovered and had confessed about his own doings
and Margari's. Well he must simply disavow Margari, that's all. But
suppose Margari were to make a clean breast of it? Well he could
repudiate the whole thing of course. But then that wretched royal
mandate? He must either swear or pay the court fine every day. It would
be best perhaps to fly, to leave the capital of the magistrate behind
him and set out on his travels. Perhaps then they would forget all about
it. But then there was the law-suit! And suppose it should be decided in
the meantime and decided against him! It was an absurd dilemma! To
remain here was dangerous and to go away was also dangerous. What a good
job it would be if that cursed forged-bill business could disappear from
the face of the earth. The bill ought to be withdrawn. But that was
impossible because it was already in the magistrate's hands, and
therefore could not be ignored. And then the oath required of him.
Either he must confess that he was personally interested in the matter
and then he would not be required to swear but would at the same time
make himself an object of suspicion, or else he must go on paying this
infernal toll money in order to be able to cross the non-juratory
bridge, so to speak. It was an absolutely desperating syllogism, and
after tossing about sleeplessly all night in the midst of this vicious
circle, Mr. John resolved in the morning to set off at once for the
vineyards of Promontor,[41] tell his servants that he meant to remain
there and enjoy himself, and immediately afterwards get into a
post-chaise and drive to his Sarfeneki property. Nobody should know his
real address but his lawyer, and there he would await developments, only
emerging in case of the most urgent necessity.
[Footnote 41: A village a few miles out of Pest.]
So he hastily swallowed his chocolate, wrapped himself in his mantle and
fancied that now he might safely fly; but he reckoned without his host,
for, on the very doorstep, he came face to face with Margari!
"What do you want here, eh?" he inquired fiercely of the humble man he
feared so much.
"You were so good as to make an appointment with me, your honour," said
Margari cringingly.
"Yes, yes, I know, I know" (he was afraid to warn him of his danger,
with all the servants listening to them), "but I cannot spare the time
now, come some other day. I cannot give you anything here."
"But your honour was good enough to say that you had some glad tidings
to communicate."
"Another time, another time! I am very busy just now."
Mr. John would have shaken off Margari altogether, but Margari was not
so easily got rid of. He had already ascertained from the coachman that
Mr. John was off to Promontor and did not mean to return again in a
hurry, so he resolved to take his measures accordingly. He rushed
forward to open the carriage door, helped Mr. John to get into the
coach, wished him a most pleasant journey, no end of enjoyment and other
meaningless things, all of which made much the same agreeable impression
upon Mr. John as if an ant had crept into his boot and he could not kill
it because he was in company. Only when the carriage door was shut to
and he saw Margari's face no more did he begin to breathe freely again.
Margari however attributed this reception, or rather, non-reception, to
the capricious humours to which his honour was constantly liable without
rhyme or reason (it is a peculiarity of self-made plutocrats as
everybody knows); but he was not a bit offended,--he knew his place. His
honour doesn't want to see Margari just now, very well, he shall not see
him so he jumped up behind the carriage alongside the lacquey. But how
surprised his honour will be when he gets to Promontor to see Margari
open the carriage door for him? How he will bid him go to the devil and
immediately after burst out laughing and give him a present! And what
will the present be? Has it anything to do with the good news with which
he meant to surprise him? And all the while, Mr. John, inside the
carriage was hugging himself with the idea that he had rid himself of
Margari for a time and devoutly wishing that the cholera, or some other
equally rapid and effectual disease, might remove the old rascal off the
face of the earth altogether.
When the carriage stopped at the picturesque vineyards of Promontor, Mr.
John almost had a stroke when, on looking through the glass window, the
first feature of the panorama that presented itself was the figure of
Margari, hastening to open the door with obsequious familiarity.
"You here, Sirrah," he roared (he would have choked with rage on the
spot if he had not said Sirrah). "How on earth did _you_ get here?"
Margari instantly imagined that his honour's flashing eyes, convulsive
mouth and distorted face were the outward signs of a jocose frame of
mind, for there was always a sort of travesty of humour in Mr. John's
features whenever he was angry. So, to his own confusion, it occurred to
him to make a joke for the first time in his life.
"Crying your honour's pardon, I _flew_," said he.
And in fact the very next instant he was sent flying so impetuously that
he did not stop till he plumped right into the trellis-work surrounding
a bed of vines. Never in all his life before had Mr. John dispensed such
a buffet. Margari fairly disappeared among the leaves of the friendly
vine arbours.
It was now Mr. John's turn to be frightened at what he had done. He was
frightened because every box on the ears he gave used regularly to cost
him 200 florins, a very costly passion to indulge in. And besides he was
particularly anxious just then to keep Margari in a good humour. A man
may loathe a viper but he had better not tread on its tail if he cannot
tread on its head. Horrified at his own outburst of rage, the moment he
saw Margari disappear in the vine-arbours, he rushed after him, freed
him with his own hands, picked him up, set him on his legs again and
began to comfort him.
"Come, come, my dear friend! compose yourself. I did not mean to hurt
you. You are not angry, are you. I hope you are not hurt? Where did you
hit yourself?"
Margari, however, began whimpering like a schoolboy, the more the other
tried to quiet him, the more loudly he bellowed.
"Come, come! don't make such a noise! Come under the verandah and wipe
the blood from your face!"
"But I am not a dog!" roared Margari. "I won't go under the verandah,
I'll go into the street. I'll howl at the top of my voice. The whole
town shall see me bleed."
"Margari, don't be a fool! I didn't mean to hurt you. I was too violent,
I admit it. Look here! I'll give you money. How much do you want? Will
200 florins be enough?"
At the words "200 florins," Margari stopped roaring a bit, but he wanted
to see the colour of the money, for he thought to himself that if he
quieted down first he would get nothing at all. So he kept on whining
and limped first on one leg and then on the other and plastered his
whole face over with blood from the one little scratch he had got.
Mr. John hastened to wipe Margari's face with his own
pocket handkerchief.
"Come, come my dear Margari. I have told you I did not mean to do it.
Here are the two hundred florins I promised you. But now leave me alone.
Go abroad with the money and enjoy yourself and I will give you some
more later on."
"I most humbly thank you," lisped the buffeted wretch with a
conciliatory voice and he kissed Mr. John's two hundred florined hand
repeatedly, while the other did all in his power to hustle him out of
the door; and so engrossed was he in the effort that he never observed
that some one had been observing the scene the whole time. He therefore
regularly collapsed when a voice which he instantly recognized,
addressed him: "Good morning, sir!"
The Lernean Hydra was not more petrified at the sight of the head of
Medusa than was Mr. John by the sight of the person who had just
addressed him. It was the magistrate, Mr. Monori.
At first he feared he had come after him for his diurnal eighty florins,
but something very much worse than that was in store for him.
"Pardon me," said the magistrate drawing nearer, "but by order of the
High Court, I am here to arrest Margari, and ascertaining that you had
taken him away with you, I was obliged to follow to prevent him from
escaping altogether."
Two stout _pandurs_[42] behind the magistrate gave additional emphasis
to his words.
[Footnote 42: Hungarian police officers.]
"Arrest me?" cried Margari, "why me? I am as honest as the day. I am
neither a murderer nor yet a robber. Mr. John Lapussa can answer for me.
I am his confidential agent!"--and he clung convulsively to the coat
tail of his principal.
Mr. John plainly perceived that never in his life before had he been in
such an awkward situation. They could accuse him now of having
instigated Margari to make a bolt of it. Had not the magistrate seen
him give the wretched man money to run away with? His first care was to
disengage Margari's hands from his coat tail and next to hold him at
arm's length so that he should not clutch his collar. Then with pompous
impertinence he pretended not to know him.
"What does the man want? Who is he? How did he come hither?" he
exclaimed. "I know nothing about him. I boxed his ears for molesting me,
and then I gave him 200 florins which is the usual legal fine for an
assault of that kind, to prevent him bringing an action against me. We
have nothing else in common. Take him away by all means. Put him in
irons. Give him whatever punishment he has deserved. Yes," he continued,
seizing the astounded Margari by the cravat, "you are a refined
scoundrel. You persuaded my dear nephew Coloman to take that false step
and then you yourself changed the forty florins into forty thousand. You
wanted to ruin the young man's future and bring a slur upon the family.
I know everything. His honour the magistrate told me all about it
yesterday, and that is why I hand you over to the law for punishment."
And with that he shook him so violently that he fell on his back again,
this time into a bed of tomatoes, whereby his white linen pantaloons
very speedily became stained with the national colours.[43]
[Footnote 43: Red, white and green.]
The dialogue that thereupon ensued no shorthand reporter could have
reproduced, for the pair of them began forthwith to rave and storm at
one another with all their might, stamping, swearing, shaking their
fists, and loading each other with abuse. When they had got as far as
calling each other robber and scoundrel, the magistrate thought it high
time to interfere, and at his command Margari was torn forcibly out of
the tomato bed, led to a hackney coach and thrust inside; yet even then
he put his head out of the window and shouted that he did not mean to
sit in prison alone but would very soon have Mr. John Lapussa there
also, as his companion. All the efforts of the two pandurs were
powerless to silence him.
As for Mr. John, the magistrate simply said to him: "Sir, it is not good
for a man to make use of nasty tools, for by so doing he only dirties
his own hands."
Then he got into a second hackney coach and drove away after the first
one.
Even Mr. John could see that it was now quite impossible for him under
the circumstances to think of quitting Pest.