THE BEGGAR BOY'S SONG.
Michael found himself very well off in his new quarters; and as nothing
happened to explain the king's whim, he was confirmed in his belief that
its only object was to make him more comfortable.
He was very punctual in attending to all his duties, and inspected the
garrison very frequently, but he spent a good many of his spare hours in
reading and study. For the king liked men of learning and cultivation,
and Michael was bent upon pleasing him in these matters if he could.
Being in Buda, with a little time on his hands, gave him a capital
opportunity of improving himself; for he had become acquainted with the
king's great friend the librarian Galeotti, and through him he now made
acquaintance with the famous library which Matthias was then forming
under the direction of Galeotti and his fellow-worker Ugoletti.
The library was in the castle, and consisted of two great halls, in
which, by the end of his life, the king had collected above fifty
thousand volumes. He was constantly buying up valuable manuscripts in
Italy, Constantinople, and Asia; and he kept a number of men constantly
employed in copying--four in Florence and thirty in Buda.
The manuscripts were many of them beautifully illuminated and adorned
with tasteful initials and pictures, and frequently with likenesses of
the king and his wife, so that they were valuable as works of art.
The art of printing, too, had been lately introduced, and the
printing-press was kept constantly at work adding to the contents of the
polished cedar-wood book-shelves, which were protected by silken,
gold-embroidered curtains: for Matthias treated his books royally and as
if he loved them.
Besides books, the two halls contained three hundred statues, some
ancient and some modern; and in the vestibule were astronomical and
mathematical instruments, with a large celestial globe in the centre
supported by two genii.
Michael had abundant opportunities of study, and knew that he could not
please the king better than by availing himself of them. The Italian
which he had learned from the grooms at Visegrad he now found most
useful, as it enabled him to talk to the various artists, sculptors,
musicians, and other distinguished men from Italy, whom the king loved
to have about him.
The two librarians of course he knew well; then there was the great
painter Filippo Lippi, and the Florentine architect Averulino, by whom
the royal palaces both in Buda and Visegrad were beautified and
enlarged. Carbo of Ferrara was writing a dialogue, in which he sang the
praises of King Matthias; Galeotti was busy with a book of entertaining
stories, full of anecdotes and sayings of the king, to which Michael
certainly might have contributed much that was interesting; Bonfinius of
Ascoli, reader to the queen, was engaged upon his History of Hungary;
and various Hungarian authors were composing their chronicles and
writing legends and poetry in Latin--that being still the language of
the learned throughout Europe.
From the windows of his "prison" Michael had no view, as has been said,
except of the other bastion, which was not particularly interesting, as
it was uninhabited, so that he was not tempted to waste any time in
looking out of the window. But he had only to go into the palace gardens
when he wanted to get away from his books and rest his eyes and brain;
and these covered a great deal of ground, extending indeed as far as to
the neighbouring hills, then still covered with forests, where the king,
who was an ardent sportsman, often went hunting.
Michael was sitting in the window one morning to eat his breakfast, when
he chanced to look across to the opposite window, and saw, to his great
surprise, that there was some one there, or at least he fancied that he
saw some one, but the glimpse was so momentary that he could not be
sure.
When one has nothing at all to look at, very small trifles become quite
important; and the idea that he might have, or be going to have,
neighbours was quite exciting. Certainly the king had said something
about it, but hitherto he had seen no one.
In a fit of curiosity, Michael opened the window and looked out from
time to time while he went on with his meal. Once he thought he saw some
one flit past it again; but he had to hurry off to his military duties
before he could make out whether the rooms were really occupied or not.
When he came back, the very first thing he did was to go up to the
window again; and at last his curiosity was gratified, at least to some
extent, for two persons were there--two women, one seated at a little
embroidery-frame, and the other standing over her, looking at her work.
Their faces were hidden from him at first, but from their dress and
figures he could see that one was elderly and the other quite young.
Presently the younger one raised her head from her work and looked up,
and from the momentary glance which he had of her features, Michael
fancied that he had seen her before somewhere or other. He could not for
the moment think where it could have been, for it was the merest glimpse
he had of her face before she looked down again.
He must not be so rude as to watch; but he could not resist an
occasional glance as long as they were there. In another quarter of an
hour, however, both figures had disappeared, and Michael saw no more of
them. But the discovery that he had neighbours was quite exciting, and
he was so much interested that he shook his head with some impatience
when he found the window deserted in the afternoon. Till this event
occurred, Michael had been in the habit of spending as short a time as
possible within doors, and was most eager to mount his horse as soon as
ever he had finished the work which he had set himself for the day. But
now he was so consumed with curiosity that he actually kept his steed
waiting a whole quarter of an hour later than usual, while he watched
for the reappearance of the ladies.
But it was all to no purpose. For a moment he caught sight of a white
hand raised, either to fasten the window or to point to something, but
the next instant this too had disappeared. He was on the watch again
when he returned home, taking care, however, to stand or sit where he
could not be seen; and the next day and the next it was the same. He
spent so much time in watching, indeed, that he got quite angry with
himself at last; and then he would go out riding, and come back quite
vexed and out of sorts.
"Bother it all!" he thought to himself; "of course I shall see her again
sooner or later if she is there."
He was standing in his usual place again one evening, when he saw two
shadows move away from the opposite window in the most tantalizing
manner, and he felt so hopeful that he sat down to watch at his ease.
If tobacco had been known in those days, no doubt he would have lighted
his pipe or a cigar; but as it was not, he had nothing to console
himself with, and could only sit and "look for King David and his harp"
in the moon, as the saying is.
All at once he fancied that he really did hear him playing his harp in
his silver palace. There were sounds of some sort--soft, sweet sounds,
which came floating towards him on the air; and he thought to himself
that he had surely heard the plaintive melody with its vibrating chords
somewhere before.
"To be sure! I have got it!" he said to himself. "I know now _where_!
But, of course, others might know the air.--Eh! what's that, though?" he
exclaimed, as a sweet, young, bell-like voice now began to accompany the
instrument, and he heard one of the very songs which he had himself
composed in the days which now seemed so long ago.
That Miska the beggar boy should be a popular poet will astonish no one
who knows how many of the popular songs of Hungary have had their origin
in the humble cottages of the peasantry, in the course of past
centuries. Every village has its poet, who is also frequently a musical
composer as well. He sings his songs at the village merry-makings to
airs of his own invention, and the gipsies, who are always present on
such occasions to play for the dancers, accompany him on their fiddles.
If they take a fancy to the air, they will remember it, and invent
variations to it, and in this way it will be preserved and become part
of their stock.
"One life, one God,
One home, one love,"
sang Michael's opposite neighbour, in a voice of great beauty and
sweetness.
"It's Esther! it must be Esther!" cried the young man, starting to his
feet in great excitement. "Esther!" he said, and a flush mounted to his
face; "but here, _here_, actually here, opposite me? Impossible! I must
see her and make sure. No one could know that song, though, but herself;
I made it for her, and no one else ever had it, at least from me."
Often and often Michael had wondered what had become of his little
friend and the other inhabitants of the castle; but whenever he had
ventured to hint an inquiry as to Mr. Samson's fate, or had tried to
find out anything about the rest, the king had turned the subject, and
avoided giving him any direct answer. Of course it was out of the
question to press the matter, so that he had known positively nothing
of what had happened ever since the eventful night when he had left the
castle. But though his life had been a very busy one, and many fresh new
interests had come into it, he had never forgotten the one pleasant
acquaintance whom he had made in Mr. Samson's grim castle. He walked
across towards the window now full of eagerness; but the singer, whose
voice he thought he recognized, was sitting in such a provoking way that
he could not see her face, and he had been careful to manage so that she
should not see him either. Presently he stopped, with his foot on the
window-sill, and then took another step forward, which apparently
startled the singer, for the song ceased abruptly, and a rather
frightened face looked up at him.
"It is you!" cried the young officer, in impetuous delight; and "Is it
you?" said the girl, more quietly, but with a flush of pleasure.
"Well, did ever one see!" exclaimed a sharp voice behind Esther.
"Jancsi! [Johnnie!] how ever did you get here?"
"It is I indeed, my little demoiselle," said Michael, in the utmost
surprise. "But I am quite bewildered. How did you come here?"
"Did not you know that the king had sent for me here to Buda?"
"The king!" said the young man, and a shadow crossed his face; "when?
what for?--and have you seen the king?"
"Three questions at once," said Esther, laughing. "Well, really I don't
know anything more than that we came here under the escort of an old
gentleman whom I don't know; and the king quartered us here, where we
have been now three days, but I have not yet seen His Highness. God
bless him! for I am as free here, and as happy," she went on, blushing
still more, "as if I had been born again. But come in; why do you stand
there in the window? We are neighbours, you know, as we used to be, and
neighbours ought to be on good terms with one another."
Michael felt as if he were dreaming, but naturally he did not wait to be
asked twice; and the old woman, who had shown a marked liking for him
before while he was in Samson's castle, welcomed him now with the
greatest cordiality.
"Why, Jancsi, stay a bit," said she, "and let me look at you! Why, what
a smart lad you have turned into, to be sure! What fine buttons you have
on your dolmany! and--well, I declare, you have a watch too! 'Your
lentils must have sold' uncommonly well in the time; and just tell us
now how you came to 'climb the cucumber-tree' so quickly, will you?"[12]
[Footnote 12: To "sell one's lentils well" and to "climb the
cucumber-tree" mean to get on in the world and make one's fortune
quickly.]
"Ah, auntie, that would take a long time to tell; but we'll have it
another time. All I can tell you now is that I owe everything to the
good king, and I would go through the fire for him; for my whole life,
every moment of it, belongs to him."
Then in a few words he told them his history since the time when he had
left the castle with Samson, and had so given Esther some hope of
release.
"It is strange," said Esther thoughtfully, "that the king should have
put us here opposite one another, and should have had these gloomy
bastions put in order and made so habitable just for us."
"Very," said Michael. "I am surprised myself, and I don't understand it,
especially as the king asked me yesterday, laughing, whether I had yet
made acquaintance with my neighbour? But what is the good of troubling
one's head about it? I am heartily glad, anyway; and you, Esther, are
you pleased too? tell me."
The girl blushed a little, and giving Michael her hand, said: "Why
shouldn't I be glad? I am sure I could not have come across a better
neighbour, and it is to you most certainly that I owe my freedom."
The young officer sighed. "Indirectly, yes," he said; and then in a
lower tone he added, "And the king might have entrusted you to my
charge; I might have had the pleasure of bringing you here. However,
when I had captured Mr. Samson, before I came back to the king, I showed
the way in and out of the castle to the Jew whom Mr. Samson had intended
to relieve of his pack, so it was easy enough then to get in and take
possession."
"Of course," said Esther, "it did not need any very great valour to
steal in at midnight and seize the place."
"And what has become of Mr. Samson? the king has never told me a word
more about him."
"What has become of him? I should think he was safe in one of the king's
prisons."
"Dear Esther, do tell me what happened; I am burning to know how it all
came about."
"Well, when a few weeks had passed and Mr. Samson did not come home, we
all began to think that something had happened to him, and that he had
perished for good and all. And then one midnight we heard a great noise
of shouting and the clash of arms, and then Mr. Rozgonyi came and
mentioned your name, and I let him into my room. For I was so
frightened, not knowing what was going on, that I had treble-bolted the
door and put the bar up; but when I heard your name, of course I knew it
was all right, and I opened it at once."
"And what of the castle?"
"Mr. Rozgonyi did not allow much time for questions. He just said that
he had brought some stone-masons with him; and apparently they had come
to pull down and not to build, at least in the first place, for he wound
up by saying that the king was going to have the stones used to build a
church and monastery in the nearest village. There would be enough for
three, I should think!"
"And did Miss Esther ever think of the poor beggar boy?"
"To be sure! But I thought more of the valiant Alpari Janos [John], who
was so brave as to come into Mr. Samson's hiding-place, and then so
clever as to get the wicked tyrant into his hands. But, Sir Knight, I
felt afraid of you too, and I must confess that I am rather afraid of
you still. For--you are certainly very clever at pretending and making
believe to be what you are not; and when one finds it all out, how is
one to believe anything you may say?"
"Good Esther!" said Michael, looking a little shamefaced, "but didn't I
keep my promise to you? I said you should be released, and you were."
"True," admitted Esther.
"And if I acted the part of a dissembler with Mr. Samson, I was not my
own master, you know; I belonged to the king, and was obeying his
orders, not following my own fancies and wishes. But as regards
yourself, I have never dissembled at all, from the time when first I
began to make your acquaintance, and it rests with you to put my
sincerity to the test."
"How do you mean? But I see we have been chattering away a long
time.--Euphrosyne, light the candles.--And you, sir, must go, if you
please; we have talked enough for to-day."
But though Esther dismissed him now, no day passed after this without
his coming to see her; and both she and Euphrosyne seemed to be always
glad to see him and to listen to all he had to tell them, first about
his own life and adventures, and the king whom he was never tired of
extolling, and then about the day's incidents, his work and his studies,
and what was going on in Buda; for they lived very quietly, and saw and
heard but little of the outside world. Often, too, Esther would bring
out her harp and play and sing. Her voice had gained in power and
richness during the past two or three years, and she had had some
teaching from one of the king's musicians; but nothing pleased Michael
so well as to hear her sing the favourite old songs which he remembered
of old, except--to hear her sing his own.