CAUGHT.
One is apt to fancy that strange, out-of-the-way characters must needs
be striking and uncommon in their persons, and it is really quite
startling to find them after all mere ordinary-looking, every-day
people.
Jason Samson, in spite of his remarkably eccentric conduct, was just one
of these commonplace individuals to look at. It was himself, in fact,
who had taken Miska into the castle; a man of middle size, neither stout
nor thin, neither young nor old, but just middling in all respects. His
features were such as we see over and over again, without having either
our sympathies or interest in the least aroused. One can't call such
persons either ill-looking or handsome, and their every-day characters
inspire no feeling but that of utter indifference.
Mr. Samson was said, naturally enough, to be a man-hater. The walls of
the Cube castle were twelve feet thick, and its inmates could see
nothing either of their fellow-creatures or of God's beautiful world;
for there was neither door to go in by nor window to look out of, and
nothing whatever to be seen but the courtyard.
It was not a cheerful home certainly for the young girl whom Mr. Samson
had some years previously brought to live there. He called her a
relation of his, and she called him "uncle," but it did not at all
follow that she was his niece; for it is the custom in Hungary, and
considered only common politeness, for young people to address their
elders as "uncles" and "aunts," whether related or not.
If Mr. Samson was commonplace in appearance, little Esther was very much
the reverse. Without being regularly beautiful, there was a great charm
about her, and she had a look of distinction which was entirely wanting
in her guardian or jailer. Her clear, deep-blue eyes were full of life
and animation, and the whole expression of her face told of a good
heart. Add to this that she had a remarkably sweet and beautiful voice,
and that, though untaught, she had a good ear for music, and was very
fond of singing, and it will be understood that Esther was altogether
not uninteresting. If she was not striking at first sight, yet the more
one saw of her the more impressed and attracted one felt.
She was very much in awe of her "uncle," though she could not have said
why, and though she had now lived with him some seven years, ever since
the death of her parents indeed, when he had brought her away to the
castle, with her attendant Euphrosyne, she being then a child of eight.
Esther was now fifteen, but she had as yet no idea that Mr. Samson was
planning in his own mind to unite her more closely to himself by making
her his wife, or she would have shrunk from him even more than she did
now, though she knew nothing against him, and he could never be said to
have ill-treated her in any way except that he kept her a close
prisoner. Perhaps he thought that, considering her age, she had liberty
enough; for she was free to go from one room to another, and she could
walk up and down the gallery and in the courtyard.
But though she had grown accustomed to the life now, there were times,
especially when the sun shone down for a short hour or two into the dull
courtyard, in spring and summer, when the girl would look up with
longing eyes to the blue sky and wonder what the world looked like
outside the four grey walls. Sometimes she would see a bird fly past
overhead, or watch a lark soaring up into the air, singing as it went.
Then the past would come back to her, and she would remember a time when
she had run about the green fields, and had spent long days in the
garden; when she had gathered wild flowers and wood-strawberries, and
had heard the birds sing.
It made her a little sad to think of it all, and for a time she felt as
if she were in a cage, and wondered whether she was to spend all her
life in it; but she was blessed with a cheerful disposition, and on the
whole she was not unhappy. She made occupation for herself in one way
and another: she sewed, she embroidered, she netted; she read the two or
three books she had over and over again, and she even wrote a little.
When one day Mr. Samson brought her a harp from his hoard of treasures,
she was delighted indeed: and having soon managed to teach herself how
to play on it, she spent many a happy evening singing such songs as she
had picked up or invented for herself.
Mr. Samson liked to hear the full, clear young voice singing in the
gallery, though he seldom took any apparent notice of the singer. In his
way perhaps he would have missed Esther a little if she had been taken
from him; but he was not a kindly or affectionate personage, and the
girl had no one to care for but Euphrosyne, a rather tiresome, foolish
old woman, who often tried her patience a good deal with her whims and
fidgets. Esther, however, was very patient with her, and clung to her
simply because there was no one else to cling to.
Mr. Samson had given them three rooms in a distant corner of the gloomy
building, where they were quite out of the way of everybody; and
Esther's rooms being the two inner ones, she could never leave them
without the knowledge and permission of the old woman, through whose
room she had to pass.
There was no doubt that Mr. Samson carried on an extensive business of a
peculiar kind. He was very secret about it, and what with his armed
garrison, and the odd way in which the castle was built, as if to stand
a siege, there seemed good reason to suspect that his valuable goods and
rich merchandise were collected from the whole length and breadth of
Hungary, and were, in fact, gathered from every country-house and
peddler's pack and bundle which he could find means to plunder. Not that
Samson ever resorted to violence if he could possibly help it--quite the
contrary; and though he was reckoned among the most powerful
robber-knights of the time, he was really more thief than robber, and
did also a great deal in a quiet way by lending money at very high
interest.
He would steal out of the castle on foot, disguised now as a beggar and
now as a Jew; and his followers were never to be seen anywhere together
in any number. They lounged along singly, at a considerable distance one
from the other, and they took care not to excite suspicion in any way.
They had nothing in the way of weapons but a couple of short, sharp
daggers, which they kept carefully concealed, and never used except in
cases of extreme necessity, and in secret places, such as deep ravines
or woods; but when they did have recourse to them, they used them with
bold determination and deadly certainty. No one ever escaped from the
clutches of these accursed robbers, and no one therefore could ever
betray them. They managed, too, to conceal all traces of their deeds of
blood, so that though there were rumours and suspicions, the guilt was
not brought home to them. People who met them saw but one, or at most
two, at a time, looking as meek and mild "as if they could not count up
to three," as the saying is.
Mr. Samson himself rarely went out quite alone. There were always one
or two men in whom he placed especial confidence, and one or other of
these always accompanied him.
And now Miska shall take up his narrative again.
"I was not badly off in the castle," said he. "I was bent on winning Mr.
Samson's confidence above everything, and I succeeded, because I strove
to enter into all his thoughts. I was not too humble and deferential,
but I put myself in his place, and showed great interest in all the work
that went on inside, which was chiefly keeping guard and cleaning arms.
"Mr. Samson went away once every fortnight; and I fancy the Jews came
twice while I was there, for Mr. Samson twice shut all the doors
carefully, which he did not do at other times. I must say I should have
liked to join him in his secret adventures; but much as he seemed to
trust me, I had no chance of doing so.
"I had been in the castle about a fortnight, I suppose, when one night
the bell rang in my little room. There was a bell to every hole in the
castle, and the bell-pulls all hung in a long row along two sides of one
of Mr. Samson's rooms.
"I got up at once and went to him, and found him lying in an arm-chair,
wearing a flowing indoor robe.
"'Alpar Janos,' said he, 'I have to leave the castle to-morrow; you will
stay here. Keep an eye on the people, and when I come back tell me
minutely all that has happened during my absence. I believe you are
faithful to me; and if you continue to please me, I will double your
wages.'
"I received his orders respectfully, as usual; but after a short pause I
said, 'I would much rather you should take me with you, for I think you
would find me more useful outside than here, where there is nothing I
can do.'
"'I want a faithful man more here than outside,' said Mr. Samson. 'Your
turn will come presently; meantime obey all the governor's orders as if
I were here myself. And now you can go. Everybody will notice my absence
to-morrow, but for all that don't you say a word about it to any
one--that is one of my laws.'
"'I will obey you, sir,' I said, and then I went back to my quarters.
"The governor, a gloomy-looking, stout fellow, who could hardly be more
than four-and-twenty, and was called simply Kalman, had taken a great
liking to me, for I always showed him more respect, if possible, than I
did to Mr. Samson himself."
"You were wise there," interposed the king. "The smaller the man, the
more respect he claims."
"And," continued Miska, "this stood me in good stead; for while Mr.
Samson was away we lived better, and now and then the governor sent me a
draught of good wine."
"Ah, I see," said the king; "nothing much out of the ordinary
way--rumour has said more than was true. But did you become acquainted
with little Esther?"
"The young lady came out into the gallery more often while Mr. Samson
was away. Sometimes she would walk up and down there till late in the
evening, and she would bring out her harp and sing to it. She was so
gentle and kind that I spoke to her one day and asked her to listen to a
song of mine; I had made the verses and invented the tune myself."
"Oh!" laughed the king; "then you are a poet too, are you, Miska?"
"Only a sort of 'willow-tree verse-maker,'[6] Mr. King. But pretty Miss
Esther listened to it very kindly--and what is more, she wrote it
down--and after that she spoke to me every evening, and asked me many
questions about Buda and Your Highness; and I told her long stories of
all that I had seen in the woods and fields. She wanted to hear about
the trees and flowers and birds, which she remembered; and one evening,
when no one was within hearing, I told her how I had met Your Highness,
and how you had sent me to Visegrad, and all I had seen there, and how
you promised me a horse. I had to tell her that story so often that I
think she knows every step of the way. I did not tell her that Your
Highness had sent me to get into the castle, for walls have ears. But
one evening she stopped singing suddenly and asked me what I had come
there for. So first I said, 'To be one of Mr. Samson's servants;' and
then I said in a whisper, 'To set you free.'
[Footnote 6: Hedge-poet.]
"'Ah, Jancsi, if you only could!' she said. 'How lovely it would be! But
you can't; nobody can.'
"So then I told her not to be afraid, for I would somehow; and if I
couldn't, some one else would, I knew--meaning Your Highness, of
course."
"And pray what did the old lady say to your talking to her charge in
this way?"
"O Mr. King, she was my very good mistress; I managed to get into her
good graces. And there's no denying it, Your Highness, when Mr. Samson
went away for the third time, Miss Esther herself told me to be very
attentive to the old woman. And it answered perfectly, for she asked me
all sorts of things and put all confidence in me; and the governor often
chaffed me about it, and said that Mrs. Euphrosyne and I would be making
a match of it. Miss Esther often said how happy we might be if we could
escape from Mr. Samson and the gloomy castle, and I promised, Your
Highness, when Mrs. Euphrosyne was not listening."
"Well, Miska, and I promise too. Miss Esther shall be let out when I get
in," said the king. "But now listen. Have you told me all that I want to
know about the interior of the castle?"
"Ah," said Miska, "who could find out all its secrets? Mr. Samson said
more than once: 'Woe to him who tries to take it, for it will cost the
lives of thousands, and he will never get in after all.' And it was as
he said: when they assaulted the castle, Mr. Samson did not so much as
leave his room, but sat there as quiet as you please. What went on up
above in the roof I don't know, for others were sent up and I was not. I
only heard the firing, and saw them bringing the gunpowder out in small
casks through a trap-door. More than once, too, I heard him say that he
had only to pull a string and the castle and everything in it would be
blown up. And I saw the red string, too, which would have done it: it
could not be reached except by means of a ladder, and it was in Mr.
Samson's own sleeping-room."
"Then you saw them raise the black standard?"
"To be sure; and they did it as easily as if they were lifting a stick."
"But tell me, how did you get out?" asked the king, cutting him short.
"I did that only five days ago," said Miska. "Mr. Samson called me at
last one evening and said,--
"'Miska, I am satisfied with you; you will go with me to-night, at
midnight. There will be only the two of us; have you the courage?'
"'I have,' I answered.
"'See,' Mr. Samson went on, taking a couple of daggers out of a
table-drawer, 'I will make you a present of these; they are the only
arms you will have. Be ready, and when I ring at midnight make haste and
come to me.'
"I haven't much more to tell you, Mr. King. He led me through several
vaults till we came to a door which led into an underground passage, and
this ended in a cave, which I took good note of, so that I could find it
again; and when we had passed through it and reached the open air, my
spirits rose. We went on through a thick wood, Mr. Samson taking the
lead. The night was dark and stormy. I kept him talking all the while,
and tried to enliven him with all sorts of jokes; and he actually called
me a very sly dog, and laughed himself as if he enjoyed them.
"We had been going on about a couple of hours, when Mr. Samson said we
had reached our destination, and that before long a rich Jew would be
passing by, and that he had a well-filled money-bag which we were to
take away from him. He warned me to be careful, and not to use my dagger
unless he called out.
"I suppose Mr. Samson had heard of the rich Jew's coming from his Jew
friends, who frequently came to the castle without any one's knowing
anything about it--so I heard from Kalman--and by secret ways which he
had told them of.
"The moon shone out through the thick trees for a moment, and I saw that
Mr. Samson was standing near a footpath, and facing a narrow opening in
the wood, about three steps away from me.
"Presently I fancied that I heard footsteps, and Mr. Samson whispered,
'Come here behind me, quietly, that they may not hear you.'
"In a short time I saw a dark shadow moving towards us. Mr. Samson
stood like a lynx, stiff and motionless, with his eyes fixed on the
approaching Jew.
"'Now,' thought I, 'now or never!' and I drew out a rope-noose which I
had kept carefully hidden under my dolmany. The next moment I had thrown
it over Mr. Samson's shoulders, and so successfully that his two arms
were pinioned to his body, and he was helpless in a moment.
"'Traitor!' roared Mr. Samson, and in a moment he gave a stab backwards
with his dagger in spite of his pinioned arm, and he did it so cleverly
too that it went about three inches deep into me. Fortunately it struck
my thigh-bone, or there would have been an end of me.
"The pain was sharp, but in spite of that I pulled the noose tighter,
and then I suddenly tripped him up with my foot, and threw him down.
"'Here! here!' I cried hurriedly, holding the robber fast. 'Come here,
gossip Jew; there is nothing to fear.' For when Mr. Samson roared out,
his victim, the Jew, had stopped still, with his feet glued to the
ground. But when I cried out that I was the king's man and had caught a
thief, he came forward--in a frightened, reluctant way though; and he
would not have come at all but that I called to him not to turn back,
for if he did, probably before he had got away Mr. Samson's robbers
would have come up, as they were lying in wait for him as well as we,
and knew that he had a bag full of money."
"But what do you mean?" cried the king. "You took Mr. Samson prisoner?"
"To be sure I did," said Miska, "and I have given him up to Mr. General
Rozgonyi;[7] and the Jew came along with me."
[Footnote 7: The king had made Sebastian Rozgonyi Captain of Upper
Hungary.]