St. Peter's Umbrella Part 21

It now occurred to Gyuri that she was offering him the reward, so he thought it time to make known his name.

"I am Dr. Wibra," he said, "from Besztercebanya."

"Oh, how lucky!" exclaimed the girl, clapping her hands gleefully. "We are just in want of a doctor for poor madame."

This little misunderstanding was just what was wanted. Gyuri smiled.

"I am very sorry, my dear young lady; I am not a doctor of medicine, but a doctor of law."

The young girl looked disappointed at this announcement, and blushed a little at her mistake; but Mravucsan was quite excited.

"What's that I hear? You are young Wibra, the noted lawyer? Well, that is nice! Who would have thought it? Now I understand. Of course, you are here to try and find out particulars about one of your cases. I might have thought of it when I met you at Mrs. Muncz's. Of course a gentleman like you must have some special reason for buying an old umbrella. Well, the fates must have sent you here now, for we are discussing such a very difficult question in the next room, that our minds are too small for it. How strange, Miss Veronica, that your earring should be found by such a renowned lawyer."

Veronica stole a look at the "renowned lawyer," and noticed for the first time how handsome he was, and how gentlemanly, and her heart began to beat at the thought that she had nearly offered him the five florins reward.

Mravucsan hastened to offer the lawyer a chair, and cast an anxious look round his office, and remarked with horror what an untidy state it was in; deeds lying about everywhere, coats and cloaks, belonging to the Senators, empty gla.s.ses and bottles, for they were in the habit of drinking a gla.s.s now and then when they had settled some particularly important business, which was quite right of them, for the truth that emanated from them must be replaced by a fresh supply, and as the Hungarians say: "There is truth in wine."

The sight of that office would really have discouraged Mr. Mravucsan if his eye had not at that moment fallen on the portrait of Baron Radvanszky, the lord lieutenant of the county, hanging on the wall in front of him. That, after all, lent some distinction to the room. He wished from his heart that the baron were there in person to see what an ill.u.s.trious guest they were harboring. But as the baron was not present, he felt it devolved on him to express his satisfaction at the fact.

"I am a poor man," he said, "but I would not accept a hundred florins in place of the honor that is done to my poor office to-day. It is worth something to have the most renowned lawyer in the county, and the prettiest young lady ..."

"Oh, Mr. Mravucsan!" exclaimed Veronica, blushing furiously.

"Well," said Mravucsan, "what's true is true. One need not be ashamed of being pretty. I was good-looking myself once, but I was never ashamed of it. Besides, a pretty face is of great use to one, isn't it, Mr. Wibra?"

"Yes, it is a very lucky thing," answered Gyuri quickly.

Mravucsan shook his head.

"Let us simply say it is a great help, for luck can easily turn to misfortune, and misfortune to luck, as was the case now, for if it had not been for to-day's accident, I should not now have the pleasure of seeing you all here."

"What is that?" asked Gyuri. "An accident?"

Veronica was going to answer, but that talkative mayor put in his word again.

"Yes, there was an accident, but in a short time there will be no traces of it, for the earring is here, madame's shoulder is here, it will be blue for some days, but what the devil does that matter, it is not the color makes the shoulder. And the carriage will be all right, too, when the smith has mended it."

"So those horses that were running away with a broken carriage...?"

"Were ours," said Veronica. "They took fright near the brickfield, the coachman lost his hold of the reins, and when he stooped to gather them up, he was thrown out of the carriage. In our fright we jumped out too.

I did not hurt myself, but poor madame struck her shoulder on something.

I hope it will be nothing serious. Does it hurt very much, Madame Krisbay?"

Madame opened her small yellow eyes, which till then had been closed, and the first sight that met them was Veronica's untidy hair.

"Smooth your hair," she said in French in a low voice, then groaned once or twice, and closed her eyes again.

Veronica, greatly alarmed, raised her hand to her head, and found that one of her plaits was partly undone.

"Oh, my hair!" she exclaimed. "The hairpins must have fallen out when I jumped out of the carriage. What am I to do?"

"Let down the other plait," advised Mravucsan. "That's it, my dear; it is much prettier so, isn't it, Wibra?"

"Much prettier," answered Gyuri, casting an admiring glance at the two black, velvety plaits, with a lovely dark bluish tinge on them, which hung nearly down to the edge of her millefleurs skirt.

So that was the priest's sister. He could hardly believe it, for he had imagined a fat, waddling, red-faced woman, smelling of pomade. That is what parish priests' sisters are generally like. The lawyer thought it was time to start a conversation.

"I suppose you were very frightened?"

"Not very; in fact, I don't think I was startled at all. But now I begin to fear my brother will be anxious about me."

"The priest of Glogova?"

"Yes. He is very fond of me, and will be so anxious if we do not return.

And yet I hardly know how we are to manage it."

"Well," said Mravucsan, consolingly, "we have the horses, and we will borrow a cart from some one."

Veronica shuddered and shook her head.

"With those horses? Never again!"

"But, my dear young lady, you must never take horses seriously, they have no real character. You see, this is how it was. Near the brickfield there is that immense windmill, for of course every town must have one.

The world is making progress, in spite of all Senator Fajka says. Well, as I said, there is the windmill. I had it built, for every one made fun of us because we had no water in the neighborhood. So I make use of the wind. Of course, the horses don't understand that; they are good mountain horses, and had never seen a beast with such enormous wings, turning in the air, so of course they were frightened and ran away. You can't wonder at it. But that is all over now, and they will take you quietly home."

"No, no, I'm afraid of them. Oh, how dreadful they were! If you had only seen them! I won't go a step with them. As far as I am concerned, I could walk home, but poor Madame Krisbay ..."

"Now that would be a nice sort of thing to do," remarked Mravucsan.

"Fancy my allowing my best friend's little sister to walk all the way home with those tiny feet of hers! How she would stumble and trip over the sharp stones in the mountain paths! And his reverence would say: 'My friend Mravucsan is a nice sort of fellow to let my sister walk home, after all the good dinners and suppers I have given him.' Why, I would rather take you home on my own back, my dear, right into Glogova parish!"

Veronica looked gratefully at Mravucsan, and Gyuri wondered, if it came to the point, would Mravucsan be able to carry out his plan, or would he have to be carried himself. The mayor was an elderly man, and looked as though he were breaking up. He found himself glancing curiously at the old gentleman, measuring his strength, the breadth of his chest, and of his shoulders, as though the most important fact now were, who was to take Veronica on his back. He decided that Mravucsan was too weak to do it, and smiled to himself when he discovered how glad this thought made him.

Mravucsan's voice broke in upon his musings.

"Well, my dear," he was saying, "don't you worry yourself about it; take a rest first, and then we will see what is to be done. Of course it would be better to have other horses, but where are we to get them from?

No one in Babaszek keeps horses, we only need oxen. I myself only keep oxen. For a mountain is a mountain, and horses are of no use there, for they can, after all, only do what an ox can, namely, walk slowly. You can't make a grand show here with horses, and let them gallop and prance about, and toss their manes. This is a serious part, yes, I repeat it, a serious part. The chief thing is to pull, and that is the work of an ox.

A horse gets tired of it, and when it knows the circ.u.mstances it loses all pleasure in life, and seems to say: 'I'm not such a fool as to grow for nothing, I'll be a foal all my life.' And the horses round about here are not much bigger than a dog, and are altogether wretched-looking."

He would have gone on talking all night, and running the poor horses down to the ground, if Gyuri had not interrupted him.

"But I have my dog-cart here, Miss Veronica, and will take you home with pleasure."

"Will you really," exclaimed Mravucsan. "I knew you were a gentleman.

But why on earth didn't you say so before?"

"Because you gave me no chance to put in a word edgeways."

"That is true," laughed Mravucsan good-humoredly. "So you will take them?"