The Red, White, and Green Part 53

These poor people could tell me nothing of the enemy. They only knew that their own men-folk were far away fighting for the land of their birth, or haply already lying at peace beneath the sod.

Evening fell before we reached Gyongyos, but I resolved to push on in the gathering darkness, although Mecsey very much doubted if we could find the way.

At the village of Kis-Palaty we learned that the Russians were in the neighbourhood, but whether they const.i.tuted an army or only a scouting party it was hard to tell.

Here, as elsewhere, the population consisted of women and children, and a few old men who shook their heads sadly, and mumbled words that had no meaning.

After a long talk with the most intelligent of the women, I came to the conclusion that the enemy were simply a cavalry detachment out scouting.

Then came the question what was best to be done.

It seemed equally dangerous to go or stay, and I was still turning the question over in my mind when a man on a splendid horse galloped up to the inn door.

His speech told me he was a Magyar, and by his dress I judged him to be a servant in some n.o.bleman's family.

At first he glanced at us suspiciously; but, discovering I was an officer in Gorgei's army, he became very friendly, and answered my questions readily enough.

"You cannot venture into Gyongyos," he said. "The town is filled with Russians. The general is there with his princ.i.p.al officers, but I hear they start for Kapolna in the morning."

"Will they come this way?"

The Magyar shook his head. "No," he replied; "I wish they would. It would keep them clear of my master's estate."

"Is your master with our army?"

"Alas, no! My sweet master is a cripple, paralyzed. He never leaves the house. But why not ride there with me? The count, my master, is a great patriot, and will make you welcome."

"But it might lead him into trouble."

"Not at all. The Russians are not likely to pay us a visit. If they do, we can easily hide you."

"And Paskewitch will march that way?"

"The Russian general? Yes; the highroad pa.s.ses the edge of the pine-wood. You had better come. The count thinks a great deal of General Gorgei, and will be delighted to see one of his officers."

"You have not told me who your master is."

"Count Arnim Kemeny."

"Well, Mecsey," I said, "what do you think? Shall we be likely to run the count into any danger?"

"How? The Russians will be gone to-morrow."

"Then if you will ride on," I said to the servant, "we will follow."

"In one minute. I have a little business to transact first," and making a respectful bow, he went into the house.

"All right, Mecsey?" I asked.

My servant tapped his pistol significantly. "I'm sorry for our friend if it isn't," he answered.

When the count's man came out again it was quite dark, and we had some difficulty in following him over the execrable roads. It was even worse when, leaving the highway, he struck across country; but after a couple of hours' hard riding we arrived at his master's residence.

We rode into the courtyard amidst the barking of numerous dogs; but the servant silenced them, and several men came running quickly to take charge of our horses.

Then our guide led the way to the front of the house, and ushered us into a small room which served as an ante-chamber.

"I go to inform my mistress," he said, and in two or three minutes there entered the room one of the loveliest women in Hungary. She was a brunette, with a complexion so clear that the warm blood could be seen beneath the delicate skin. Her hair was beautifully wavy, her eyes were large and shaded with long, silky lashes, her lips red as a rose, her teeth glistened like pearls.

She greeted me with ease and graciousness, and I knew in a moment that the welcome was a genuine one.

"I must apologize for my husband," she said sweetly. "He is, alas! an invalid, and I must welcome the guests of the house."

"It is I who should apologize for thus intruding," I replied, "but that I see it will not be necessary. I am George Botskay, a captain in the army commanded by General Gorgei. This is my servant, and we are in the neighbourhood on special duty."

"Exactly," said my hostess, "and you must be in need of refreshment.

Supper is almost ready, and meanwhile you would like to go to your room."

Mecsey was now handed over to the care of our guide, and a servant conducted me to a bedroom, where I was able to make myself more presentable.

The house was a one-storied building, very similar to my own at Gyula--built on much the same plan, but rather more extensive.

After I had washed and dressed, a servant showed me to the dining-room--a fine, s.p.a.cious apartment, the walls of which were hung with pictures painted by Hungarian artists.

As before, the countess stepped forward, smiling, and led me to her husband.

"Arnim dear," said she sweetly, "this is Captain Botskay, whom a lucky chance has sent us as a guest."

While she spoke, I gazed with the deepest emotion at the count.

He partly sat, partly reclined in a wheeled chair drawn close to the table.

He was a wonderfully handsome and athletic-looking man, with a ma.s.sive, well-shaped head firmly set on broad, st.u.r.dy shoulders. His face was frank and open, his eyes smiled, though with a suggestion of sadness, his mouth was firm, his chin square and determined.

I pictured him charging at the head of a squadron of horse, and thought what a magnificent cavalry leader he would make. As it happened, the poor fellow could not cross the room, could not put foot to the ground, could not move a single muscle of his legs; from the waist downwards he was practically dead. Yet he made no moan, no complaint, but once, and then it was to regret that his infirmity prevented him from joining Gorgei.

"Forgive my apparent lack of courtesy, Captain Botskay," said he; "but I am somewhat of an invalid, and my wife kindly does the honours of the house in my stead."

"I shall not readily forget madam's kindness," I replied.

"Nay," answered the countess, "it is we who are your debtors, since you will be able to tell my husband the truth about the war; but first we will have supper," and she rang the bell.

I was certainly very hungry, and did ample justice to the good things placed before me, while the pleasure was heightened by the appearance of the table with its cloth of snowy whiteness, beautifully-cut gla.s.ses, nicely-chased silver, and tastefully-arranged flowers.

This was unusual experience for a soldier in Gorgei's army while on active service.

It was delightful also to watch how fondly my hostess waited on her crippled husband, how swift she was to antic.i.p.ate his wants, how lovingly she performed every little service--every action showing how thoroughly the invalid was centered in her heart.

Then, when we rose from the table, it was her hand that guided his chair into the drawing-room; her pretty fingers that made him comfortable; her eyes that looked lovingly into his, questioning if there was aught else that could be done for him.