Pretty Michal Part 37

Good Dame Sarah did not take her usual afternoon nap that day. On the contrary, she took out her Bible and read therefrom in a loud voice to keep herself awake.

All at once it occurred to her to see what Michal was about. She went up to her room, but she was not there.

A side door which led from Michal's door to the bas.e.m.e.nt stood open.

The young woman must consequently have gone out through this door.

The wind had blown the freshly fallen snow into the corridor, and in this snow Dame Sarah recognized the impressions of Michal's small, narrow boots. These footprints led her right down to the gate, and thence, guided by the patches of snow which Michal had shaken from her feet, she arrived at the door of the butcher's shop.

She crept toward it and began to listen. Then she suddenly tore open the door and rushed in.

Red Barbara was stooping over the form of the senseless woman, and grasping her round the body in order to raise her up and carry her away.

"So I've caught you at last, eh! you horrible, G.o.dless witch!"

The hag, taken quite by surprise, uttered a hoa.r.s.e shriek, like a vulture startled from her prey and, springing up from Michal's side, extended her crooked fingers like the talons of a bird of prey, and raised them aloft to strike. But her claws would have been of little use to her, even if she had borrowed them from her patron Beelzebub himself, against the attack which Dame Sarah in her rage and fury now made upon her.

That lady's iron hand seized the witch with irresistible might. In vain she twisted and wriggled. Dame Sarah bent the witch's body back over the chopping-board.

"Let me go, woman!" yelled Barbara, with b.l.o.o.d.y, foaming lips.

"Don't hold me like that or you'll rue it! I can bite, and my bite is worse than that of a mad dog. I'll drag you down to h.e.l.l with me if you don't let me go."

"You'd bite me, you b----, would you?" cried Dame Sarah, with grim fury; "then bite yourself!" and with that, thrusting one of Barbara's arms against Barbara's own mouth, she forced the witch's clenched fist in between her wide open jaws. "Bite away, and choke!"

The face of the witch was already livid, her eyes were starting out of their sockets, she was very near being choked with her own fist.

And Dame Sarah would certainly have bestowed a great benefit upon her own family, and all the powers in heaven and earth would certainly have forgiven her, if she had not loosed her hold upon the evil creature till its pestilential soul had gone to h.e.l.l.

But it was otherwise decreed in the great book of predestination.

The uproar made by the two struggling women drew the whole household to the spot. The servants hastened promptly to the a.s.sistance of their mistress, and after tearing a considerable quant.i.ty of hair out of Red Barbara's head, they tied her hands behind her and, as she would not go willingly, they dragged her through the snow to the lockup. All the way thither the witch never ceased shouting: "For this I'll revenge myself on your whole house."

Michal knew nothing of all this, for she lay in a swoon. It was already late in the evening when she came to herself and gradually recognized the faces of those who stood round her.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

Which shows what a good thing it is when "publica privatis praecedunt," or, in other words, when public duties take precedence of private affairs.

As the time approached when the return of Valentine Kalondai with the deputation from Pressburg might be reasonably expected, Simplex joined the town watchman, with whom he, as trumpeter, stood on terms of good fellowship, and watched with him for the approach of the sledges.

The carnival was now pretty far advanced, when a postilion arrived to say that the deputation was already on its homeward way, and the town was to send four fresh horses to meet it, so that it might make its solemn entry with due dignity; the four nags which had been hired at Pressburg being by this time splashed up to the very ears with mud.

As the deputies approached the gate, Simplex seized his trumpet--it was the custom when notables drew near to play in their honor a selection of the choicest melodies--and played a tune, the text of which begins with these words:

Hasten, little nag, gallop and fly, At home thy mistress sick doth lie.

He thought that Valentine would understand the allusion.

And Valentine did understand it, but he would not take the hint. He told the coachman to drive direct to the townhall.

The civic coachman was a very old man. He had many a time driven Valentine's father on the business of the town, and was also very much attached to his son.

"Mr. Sheriff," he inquired, as they pa.s.sed beneath the portcullis, "hadn't we better drive home first of all?"

"No, old fellow! the business of the city comes first. I'll go home afterward."

As the sledge stopped before the townhall, where the town-councilors, apprised of the arrival of the deputies, had already a.s.sembled, the first person whom Valentine met on dismounting was Count Hommonai.

He drew Valentine aside.

"Have you been home yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," replied the other, "'publica praecedunt privatis.'"

"Go home first."

"No, my lord! That I will not do. Tidings may there be awaiting me which will either irritate or delight me, and so either make me too severe or too soft-hearted. The circ.u.mstances of the city are at this moment so very serious that, till they have been set right, we must let our private affairs go. So, by your leave, the townhall first and my own house afterward."

And when Valentine explained in the council the actual situation of affairs, everyone said that he had acted quite rightly.

The Prince of Transylvania, in order to bring King Ferdinand over to his side, had surrendered to him the five counties on this side of the Theiss which had been ceded to Transylvania by the Peace of Linz. Then, shutting his ears against all good advice, he had invaded Poland, and his first attack was crowned with success, for Cracow fell into his hands.

King Ferdinand had accepted the portions of Transylvania offered to him, but at the same time intimated to Prince George Rakoczy that if he did not evacuate Poland at once, he, Ferdinand, would be forced to make common cause with the Poles, and compel him to do so by force of arms.

And now, too, the Sultan was very wroth with Prince George Rakozcy for beginning the war without his consent, and also for surrendering portions of the land to Ferdinand. When they are wroth in Stamboul it is no joke. The Sultan declared that George Rakoczy had forfeited his throne, and issued an athname which gave the scepter to Achatius Baresai, at the same time commanding the Khan of the Crim Tartars to march into Transylvania and chastise his rebellious va.s.sal.

So the town of Ka.s.sa had now to choose between two things.

It might quietly conform to the will of Prince George Rakoczy, and consent to be transferred to Ferdinand of Austria, the first consequence of which would be that the troops of the Prince of Transylvania would quit the town in order to garrison the fortress of Onod, while a Walloon regiment, under the command of General Loffelholz, would take their place; in which case the Jesuits would have their cloisters restored to them, and would reenter the town behind the Walloons.

That would be a bitter morsel to swallow.

The second alternative for the town, in case it disliked the Emperor's friendship, was to throw itself into the arms of the Turks. The Sultan had deposed George Rakoczy, and appointed Achatius Baresai Prince in his stead. If the town of Ka.s.sa chose, it could side with Baresai and summon the Pasha of Eger to its a.s.sistance.

One of these two courses had to be adopted.

Good advice was now scarce.

There lay the stone which one fool had cast into the well, and one hundred wise men could not pull it out.

The session of the council, when these things had been explained was extraordinarily stormy. Valentine Kalondai, who presided, was scarcely able to maintain order, so heated were the tempers of his colleagues.

One of them threatened to burn his house to the ground rather than permit German troops to be quartered upon him, while another protested that he would rather ma.s.sacre his own wife and children than allow the Turkish janissaries to perpetrate their atrocities upon them; and while some exhausted the whole vocabulary of abuse against the unbelieving heathen, others excelled themselves in blackening the Jesuits. Thus there arose two fiercely antagonistic parties, neither of which would give way a hair's breadth to the other.

The president alone was silent.