Manasseh Part 28

Mana.s.seh advanced to the door and announced to a group of armed men lounging about it that he wished to see Diurbanu.

"The general is not to be seen just now," was the reply; "he is at dinner, and will not leave the table for some time yet."

Mana.s.seh drew a visiting-card from his pocket, and, first bending down one corner, sent it in to the general. The bearer of it soon returned with the announcement that Diurbanu bade the visitor wait awhile, and meantime he was to be bound and confined in the cellar. Mana.s.seh a.s.sented to this peculiar reception. "Many men, many manners," said he to himself. It would have been easy enough for him to leap the railing of the porch and flee to the woods before the others could lay hands on him, but he had not come hither merely to run away again the next moment.

"Very well, go ahead and bind me," said he, good-humouredly, to the guards. But they looked at one another in helpless inquiry who should undertake to manacle this large, strong man. When at length two had volunteered to essay the task, it appeared that there was no rope in readiness. "Go and get one," commanded the prisoner; and when a stout cord had been procured, he went on with his directions: "Now take my pocketbook out; you'll find some loose change in it which you may divide among you. There is also a folded paper in the pocketbook; deliver it to the general and ask him to read it. Then take a cigar out of my waistcoat pocket, light it and stick it in my mouth."

These commands having been duly executed, two of the guards led their prisoner down into the cellar, which appeared to be Diurbanu's antechamber for such visitors as came to him with troublesome pet.i.tions.

Not satisfied with conducting him to the main or outer cellar, Mana.s.seh's escort opened the iron door leading into an inner compartment, pushed him through it, and closed the portal upon him, after bidding him take a seat and make himself comfortable.

Mana.s.seh found himself in almost total darkness. Only an air-hole over his door admitted a very feeble light from the dimly illumined outer cellar. He began to consider his situation, comforting himself with the reflection that at Monastery Heights he had been treated in much the same fashion, except that there his hands had not been bound. He had been kept in confinement all night, and in the morning his terms of peace had been accepted. This time, too, he hoped for a like issue.

When a cigar is smoked in the dark it lights up the smoker's face at each puff. Suddenly a voice from out of the gloom called, "Mana.s.seh!"

"Who is there?"

"I."

It was a gipsy, whose voice Mana.s.seh recognised. "How came you here, Lanyi?" he asked.

"Diurbanu had me locked up--the devil take him!"

"What grudge had he against you?"

"He ordered me to play to him while he sat at dinner," explained the gipsy; "but I told him I wouldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because I won't make music for my country's enemies."

His country, poor fellow! What share had he in that country beyond the right to tramp the public highway, and make himself a mud hut for shelter?

"Then he gave me a cuff," continued the gipsy, "had me shut up here, and promised to hang me. Well, he may break me on the wheel, for aught I care, but I won't play for him even if he smashes my fiddle for refusing."

"Well, don't be down-hearted, my little man," said Mana.s.seh, cheerily.

"I'm not a bit down-hearted," declared the other. "I only thought I'd ask you not to throw away your cigar-stump when you've finished smoking.

You can walk, your feet are free; come here when you are through with your cigar, and let it fall into my mouth, so that I can chew it."

"But you'll find it a hot mouthful."

"So much the better."

This cynical gipsy phlegm exactly suited Mana.s.seh's mood, and he exerted himself to cheer the poor fellow up, promising to secure his release as soon as he himself should gain an audience with Diurbanu.

"But you won't get out of here yourself in a hurry," returned the gipsy.

"Once in Diurbanu's hands, you might as well be in the hangman's.

Already he has put to death seven envoys who came to treat for peace, and they were only St. George peasants. So what will he do to you who are an Adorjan and wear a seal ring? But you've a breathing-spell yet.

The others served him as a little relish before dinner; you are to be kept for dessert. One drinks a gla.s.s of spirits at a gulp, but black coffee is to be sipped and enjoyed. I know this Diurbanu well, and you'll know him, too, before he's through with you. I'll bet you my fiddle, Mana.s.seh, you won't live to see another day; but it serves you right! You could handle three such men as Diurbanu in a fair fight; yet, instead of meeting him on the battle-field, you walk right into his clutches and let him bind you fast--like Christ on the cross."

"Take not that name in vain, you rogue!" commanded Mana.s.seh, sternly, "or I'll let you feel the weight of my foot."

"Kick me if you wish to," returned the vagrant, imperturbably; "but, all the same, if I had been Christ I wouldn't have chosen a miserable donkey to ride on, but would have sent for the best horse out of Baron Wesselenyi's stud; and as soon as I had the nag between my legs, I would have snapped my fingers at old Pontius Pilate."

The gipsy's eloquence was here interrupted by the sound of a key turning in the outer door of the cellar.

"They're coming!" cried the fiddler; "and I sha'n't get your cigar-stump, Mana.s.seh. They'll take me out first."

Through the hole above the iron door a reddish light could now be seen.

Presently the iron door itself was opened, and two men, bearing pitch-pine torches, entered, and then stood one on each side of the door. Diurbanu came last, dressed in the costume of a Wallachian military commander, his face flushed with wine and evil pa.s.sions, and his long hair falling over his shoulders. Despite his disguise, Mana.s.seh recognised him at once. He saw that the gipsy's words had conveyed no idle warning. The man before him was none other than Benjamin Vajdar.

Yet the prisoner lost nothing of his composure, but with head erect and unflinching gaze faced his deadly enemy.

"Well, Mana.s.seh Adorjan," began the other, "you asked to see me, and here I am. Do you know me now?"

"You are called Diurbanu," replied Mana.s.seh, coldly.

"And don't you know another name for me? Don't I remind you of an old acquaintance?"

"To him whom you resemble, I have nothing to say. I have come to you as to Diurbanu, I have placed in your hands the peace-treaty which your people made with my people, and I demand its observance."

"To convince you that I am not merely Diurbanu, but also another, look here." With that he called one of the torch-bearers and held to the flame the paper he had received from Mana.s.seh.

The latter shrugged his shoulders and blew a cloud of cigar-smoke.

"Do you understand now," continued Diurbanu, "that there is one man in the world who has sworn to march against Toroczko, treaty or no treaty, to leave not one stone on another in that town, and not one of its people alive to tell the story of its destruction? My day has come at last--and Toroczko's night." The speaker's features took on at these words an expression more like that of a hyena than of a human being.

"Idle threats!" muttered Mana.s.seh, scornfully, between his teeth.

"Idle threats, are they?" retorted the other, striking the hilt of his sword and raising his head haughtily. "You think, do you, that I am joking, and that I will take pity on you?"

"Oh, as for me, you may do what you please with me--torture me, kill me, if you choose. I am ready. But that will not help you to take Toroczko.

All are in arms there and waiting for you. Go ahead with your plan.

You'll find many an old acquaintance to receive you there. Our defences are abundantly able to withstand your soldiers, who, you know well enough, are tired of fighting and have no love for storming ramparts.

Kill me, if you wish, but there will be only one man the less against you; and all the satisfaction you and your men will get from Toroczko will be broken heads. Not one stone will you disturb in all the town."

"We'll soon make you sing another tune," returned Diurbanu, and he began to roll up his sleeves, like an executioner preparing to torture his victim. "You shall hear our plan. I will be perfectly honest with you.

While a part of my forces conduct a feigned a.s.sault in the valley, and so engage the attention of your men, my main body will descend on the town from the direction of the Szekler Stone, and will a.s.sail it in the rear, where none but women and children are left to receive the attack.

What the fate of these women and children is likely to be, you may conjecture from the fact that the a.s.saulting party is led by a woman,--a woman whose heart is full of bitter hatred, a maiden whose father and two brothers have been killed before her eyes, a proud girl whom your brothers have driven from their door with insulting words. This woman is Zen.o.bia, Ciprianu's daughter, once your brother Jonathan's sweetheart, but now betrothed to me--or, at least, she fancies she is. While I keep your armed forces busy, she will knock at the door of your house. At her signal the work of carnage and destruction will begin. Your whole family will fall into her hands."

Mana.s.seh shuddered with horror, and drew a deep breath. His head was no longer proudly erect, his self-confidence was gone. "G.o.d's will be done!" he murmured.

"So I've found your tender spot, have I?" cried the other, with an exultant laugh. "Just think what is in store for your wife (but what am I saying? She is not your wife)--your mistress."

At this insult to his adored Blanka, Mana.s.seh's wrath blazed up and mastered him. He spit his burning cigar stump into the speaker's face.

It was the utmost he could do. The other swallowed his rage at the indignity and wiped the ashes from his face, which presently broke into a smile--a hideous smile.

"Very good, Mana.s.seh! One more score to charge up against you. I don't attempt to even the account on your unfeeling body, but on your soul, which I know how to torture. For this last insult, as well as for a hundred former injuries, I shall wreak ample revenge on Blanka Zboroy, before your own turn comes."

"Do not count too confidently on that," rejoined Mana.s.seh. "The moment your ruffian crew break into our house, two women will put their pistols to each other's hearts, and your men will find only a couple of dead bodies."