Pretty Michal

Then seven or eight Turkish horsemen reappeared, and began insulting the Hungarians, not with words indeed, which would have been quite thrown away at so great a distance, but with all sorts of outrageous gestures; while the Hungarians, not to be outdone, retaliated in kind with great spirit and originality. Tiring at last, however, of this pantomimic war, eight of the Hungarian horsemen dashed against the Turks with couched lances. In the ensuing mêlée all sixteen lances were splintered to atoms, whereupon the horsemen on both sides returned to their respective places.

At last the Hungarian commander grew weary of these tantalizing tactics, divided his troops into four battalions, and sent one of them off to encompass the forest. On this division coming close up to the outskirts of the wood, a swarm of Turkish horsemen rushed out upon them with loud cries; whereupon the Hungarians feigned flight till they had drawn the pursuers within reach of the second line of battle, when they suddenly turned and drove the Turks, who were now completely surrounded, toward the morass. Here, however, they themselves fell into an ambush of janizaries, who picked them off from among the bushes, and at the same moment from behind the sedges there poured forth a whole stream of horsemen of all sorts, Albanians, Spahis, and Moors, who attacked them on all sides like a swarm of hornets.

The Hungarian captain now set his third division in motion, in which were also Valentine and his comrade Simplex.

Dame Sarah, from the opposite shore, saw how they charged the foe.

"Why, the plucky lad sits on horseback as if he had never learnt anything else all his life! If only his poor father could see him!"

Valentine had never learnt the trade of a soldier, but he did what he thought was the right thing, grasping his father's broad crooked sword in his right hand, and his long three-edged dagger in his left, at the same time throwing his horse's reins over its neck. Simplex, likewise, drew his broadsword and wrapped his wolfskin round his left arm by way of a buckler.

Two horsemen were coming straight at them; one of them was an Albanian in a coat of mail, the other a distinguished Spahi, an Aga at the very least.

The Albanian horseman was covered from head to foot with a coat of scale armor; his horse's head and neck were protected in the same way, and it also bore a huge spike on its forehead, so that the pair looked for all the world like a crocodile mounted on a unicorn, and worthy Simplex was so astonished at this strange sight that he forgot he had a sword in his hand. Besides, thought he, what weapon can cut down a man who is cased in steel? So in his terror he merely held his wolfskin buckler in front of his head, and the Albanian aimed a mighty blow at him with his sword, which was like to have felled him to the ground.

Fortunately Valentine observed the danger of his comrade, and while throwing him a word of encouragement, smote the Albanian so violently on the head with the dagger in his left hand, that the scaly monster immediately plunged headlong from his horse; but at the same time the Spahi aimed a terrific blow at Valentine's neck.

"Don't you touch my son, you heathen you!" cried Dame Sarah from the wagon on the opposite shore; and whether it was the effect of her voice or of Valentine's rapid hand it is difficult to say, but at any rate the youth parried the blow of the Turk so well that he struck the sword out of his hand, and at the same time sliced off a piece of his thumb. Then he seized the Spahi by the collar and led him away captive, the Turk all the time begging for mercy, and promising him a ransom of two hundred gold guldens if he spared his life.

Valentine brought his captive safely to the rear, where the captain praised him for his valor, but said that they had now had quite enough fighting for one day. The skirmish was over. On both sides there were just enough of killed and wounded to satisfy honor, neither more nor less, so that both generals could tell their hosts that they had conquered. Those of the enemy who had not taken flight were cut down, and those who could not work their way out of the morass were drowned. As for the leaders, neither of them had lost a hair, and if either of them cared to fire a haystack on his retreat and claim to have burnt a fortress, no one would be a whit the wiser and his reputation would be made.

But all this time Simplex was nowhere to be found, which greatly embarrassed the whole company, for he had with him the field-trumpet and the kettle-drum of the banderium, and without them they could of course neither beat a recall nor sound a reveille.

But Valentine was more embarrassed than them all, for if Simplex were lost, who was to lead him to his Michal? All that he knew of her at present was that her husband had not taken her to Great Leta as he had promised, but to some other place.

Valentine, therefore, begged the captain to allow him to return to the battlefield with two companions, to search for Simplex on the margin of the morass where they had last fought side by side. The undertaking was not without danger, for bands of marauders were wont to prowl about the battlefield to plunder the fallen and make captive the survivors; so the captain, Count Hommonai, gave Valentine not two, but six horsemen, who were to help seek the field-trumpeter by the borders of the morass.

But Simplex had not been cut down by the Turks after all. Such a glorious death was by no means his ideal. When the battle was raging its fiercest, when the opposing warriors fell upon each other tooth and nail, and there was such a whirring and clashing of lances and battle-axes that it was as much as a man could do to avoid having an eye knocked out—then, I say, Simplex, without thinking twice about it, sprang nimbly from his nag, unbuckled both his kettle-drums, left his steed to its own devices, hid the trumpet in the bushes, and crept himself into a place where the reeds and sedges were thickest. Then when the din of battle was over and everything was quite still again, he crept out of his hiding-place and looked about him.

Here and there a few couples were still fighting in the distance, but all around lay only the bodies of those who had already had their fill of fighting in this life. Close to the swamp, too, he espied the charger of the Albanian horseman. It was quietly grazing, but the Albanian, whose head Valentine had split open, lay on the ground still holding fast the reins in his convulsively clenched fist, so that the horse dragged him along whenever it changed its place. The trumpeter immediately appropriated this beautiful beast. First he loaded him with the kettle-drums, then he took off all the Albanian's finery, hung it on the end of his lance, and so rode toward the camp. Valentine and his comrades met him when he was already half-way there.

Simplex made the most of his victory. He demonstrated how he had first cloven the Albanian horseman to the very saddle-bow, and then torn his horse away from under him by main force. Valentine listened to him in silence, for in those days it was an understood thing that when one friend had achieved an heroic deed which sufficed for two, he was to relinquish half the glory of it to his less fortunate comrade; and further, that one friend should never put another to shame by publicly contradicting him when he drew the long-bow too strongly.

Simplex was highly commended by the captain, who made him a present of the Albanian's horse (his former sorry nag had returned of its own accord to the camp), so that he was richly recompensed. Then he gave the signal for the scattered horsemen to reassemble, and in the evening the Hungarians retreated in perfect order to the other side of the Thiros, almost everyone of them taking back with him a captive Turk.

Valentine brought his prisoner to his mother, who was as much delighted as any child to whom his father brings home from the chase a live wild cat. The good woman would not hear of the Turk being bound to the wagon, and compelled to run after it on foot all the way to Kassa; but assigned him a place near the coachman, merely taking the precaution to bind one of his feet to the trestle with a leather strap, so that it might not occur to him to spring down and run away. After that she tied up the poor fellow's maimed thumb.

With what pride would she not exhibit this real live Turk at home!

Young Fürmender would no longer be able to say that Valentine was possessed by evil spirits, and that he was afraid of blood.

CHAPTER XVII.

"But, but, my son, are these two hundred ducats more to you than the soul of a converted heathen? How can you speak so impiously? Suppose the Apostles had thought as you do! And why lay such stress upon these two hundred ducats? If you want money, here hang the keys at my girdle. I'll give them to you. Thrust your arm into the great money chest, take the whole treasure away with you if you will, for we have an honest trade which brings us in as much gold and silver as we want. But if you must earn money, at all events don't earn it by offering men's flesh for sale. Say! Will you have the keys?"

"God bless you, my dear mother! I don't want your gold. I'll spend no money but what I've earned, piece by piece, by the sweat of my brow."

"Eh, eh, young fellow! I see what it is. You have something on your mind which you don't want your old mother to know. Come, sir, confess that you're in love! Out with it, don't be shamefaced! Your father was just such another mealy-mouth. For two whole years he was dangling after me without the pluck to open his mouth, till at last I was forced to take pity on him. Come, now, speak the truth! You are in love?"

"Perhaps I am."

"Who's the lady?"

"That's more than I can tell you."

"Some poor lass, I suppose of lowly birth perhaps? Perhaps a peasant's daughter, or maybe, even a serving-maid? I don't care. Let her family be what it may, if only she herself is a virtuous virgin, you may bring her to my house without fear. If she is clumsy, I'll gladly shut one eye and only see that she loves you. If she knows absolutely nothing at all, I'll be her teacher, and she shall learn from me everything which a right-minded housewife ought to know. Come, now! Who is it?"

"I cannot say, my good mother!"

"Valentine! Valentine!" cried Dame Sarah, threatening her son with the large carving-knife which she always kept hanging by her side. "You are after no good thing. You love a woman who has already got a husband. Don't deny it! I see by your sudden change of color that I've hit the mark. Valentine, you are walking in evil ways! Bethink you what is in store for you—here on earth the sword of the headsman, and in the next world the fires of hell! You know that in matters of morality our laws don't jest! I have seen with my own eyes many a head, quite as comely as yours, roll in the sand—the sole offense of these poor sinners was presuming to cast sheep's eyes at women who had no business to have lovers at all. But I pray God that he'll place an obstacle in your path at the very outset, which will make it impossible for you to go any further on the way where shame, death, and damnation await you. God will hear me!"

But Valentine reflected that he too had recommended his affairs to God. Had he not said that if he returned safe and sound from the battle, it should be a sign that his intention of seeking out his beloved in her misery was right and pious? And, lo! the blessing of God had followed hard upon his footsteps; he had not only returned home safe and sound, but had brought back with him a captive whose ransom would enable him to face all manner of unknown perils with far more courage than if he only had an empty purse. Therefore he impatiently waited for the kinsfolk of his prisoner Achmed to send him the ransom from Grosswardein. But it was just at this time that Dame Sarah was moving heaven and earth to convert the Turk. Every day she read to him extracts from the Gospels, and taught him to sing hymns. He had even got so far as to renounce those articles of his creed which prohibited the drinking of wine and the eating of ham, when he one day put to Dame Sarah the ticklish question, whether a converted Turk might not keep all four of his wives? The worthy dame smote her hands together in horror.

"What! you have four wives, you d——d Turk? Well, then, you may remain in your heathenish faith for all I care. Go with your four wives to your Turkish hell, but don't contaminate ours." And with that she washed her hands of him altogether.

A few days later the Turk's ransom reached the hands of Captain Hommonai, who paid over the money to Valentine, and Achmed was sent off to Grosswardein.

So Valentine had at last enough money to carry out what he had so long been brooding over.

His first step was to beg Captain Hommonai for a short furlough for himself and his comrade Simplex, which furlough he very easily obtained, inasmuch as my lord count was just then in the middle of his honeymoon, and therefore ill disposed to engage in martial feats for some time to come. The Turks also were keeping very quiet in that part of the country.

The two hundred ducats Valentine already had in his pocket. All that he now required for his journey was a good cloth mantle, a stout ax, a flask, and a knapsack.

It was also of no small assistance to our two honest comrades that the general ordered the squadron of cavalry to which they belonged to proceed to Onod (which was half-way to Zeb), for Valentine was thereby able to conceal from his mother the fact that he had obtained leave of absence. So they reached Onod safely, and thence made their way across country to seek Michal.

Yet the prayers of Dame Sarah were more efficacious than the resolutions of the two friends, for as they were passing through the Onod forest, out of the bushes sprang twelve of those miscreants who then pursued the accursed trade of kidnaping Christian men and women in order to sell them to the Turks. Valentine indeed made a good fight for it, and broke no end of jaws and noses; but at last he was overpowered by numbers. Then the robbers gagged him, and tied him with his comrade to a tree, and naturally left him very little of the two hundred ducats which they found upon his person. Then they separated to seek fresh booty. In the evening they returned with a woman and a young girl, and at dusk they tied the captives to their saddles and haled them away.

Thus Dame Sarah's pious wish that her son Valentine might light upon an obstacle which should hinder him at the very outset from pursuing his evil way, was exactly fulfilled.

CHAPTER XVIII.

First of all the woman and her little daughter were sold. A Mudir required them both, so at all events they had the consolation of each other's society.

Then there came an under-sized Turkish butcher who dealt in sheep flesh, and rejoiced greatly when he learnt from Valentine that he was a butcher's assistant. He did not chaffer very long about him, but paid the thousand ducats which the robber demanded for Valentine, put him in chains, and drove him off, at the same time bidding him be of good cheer, as he would be very well treated, have enough to eat, and when the vintage time came, might work in the vineyards in the open air, and have plenty of sour wine to comfort his heart with.

But for Simplex no purchaser could be found. They all looked at his hands, which were quite smooth and soft, for how could trumpet blowing make them hard? Nobody would have him. In vain did the robber make him dance at the end of a rope like a bear, and cry continually:

"Buy! buy! Who'll buy this giaour?"

At last, finding that no one would buy him, he led him to the fortress to the pasha. There the Muteshin came to meet him, and the robber said that he had brought him a captive soldier, for all captive soldiers had to be handed over to the pasha, who made an immense profit out of them by buying them dirt-cheap and then reselling them to their friends at fancy prices. The Muteshin, therefore, paid the robber forty ducats down for Simplex, one of which the godless wretch gave to the poor captive as a sort of parting gift.

Simplex was then sent straight to the smithy, and there such heavy fetters were fastened to his legs that he could scarcely drag them along. After that they stuck him in a subterranean dungeon, already occupied by some fifty other persons, who said very little to each other, but squatted on the floor, as near as they could get to the narrow, single window, and carved pipes, plaited scourges, or wove Turkish girdles in order to earn a few aspers. Many of them, however, lay against the wall as if they were sick, and these had their feet tied up. A barber came down to them in the morning and evening to change their bandages, and rub their wounded soles with soothing salves.

Simplex asked them what long journeys they had been taking to make the soles of their feet so sore. One of them answered:

"Just wait a bit. It will be your turn soon to take the same journey and find out where Bambooland lies."

And, indeed, before the week was out, Simplex's curiosity was satisfied, and he had no need to bother his head about the matter any more.

When his turn came he was led to the Kaimakan.

The Kaimakan was a fat-faced, big-bellied man who loved his joke. He was smoking a pipe with a very long stem, and sat with crossed legs on a bright carpet.

He addressed Simplex most affably, called him "my dear son!" and asked whence he was, who his relations were, how much property he had, and where his estate lay.

Simplex gave him the same answer which he had given to the robber captain, Janko. He said that he was a poor orphan.

At this the Kaimakan fairly screamed with laughter.

"Ha! ha! Of course! of course! Just as if you had got it all up. All the lot of you answer like that when the question is first put to you. I know! I know! You have neither father nor mother, don't even know where you were born, are as poor as a church mouse, carry your house on your shoulders, your bread in your breast, and begging is your trade. 'Tis the usual answer to the first question, but we'll now see what you've got to say to the second question."

He gave a nod, and four soldiers instantly threw Simplex to the ground. Two of them tied his feet together and hoisted them up with a cord till the soles pointed heavenwards, whereupon the other two so belabored them with bamboo sticks, that Simplex, in reply to the continually reiterated questions, confessed that he was a prince, that his father was the Doge of Venice, and his godfather the King of Poland, and that they would certainly send, on application, his weight in gold by way of ransom.

At this the soles of his feet were belabored still more—poor Simplex really thought his last hour had come.

Then followed the third examination. The Kaimakan ordered poor Simplex's swollen and lacerated soles to be well rubbed with soothing balsam, told the soldiers to give him a cooling drink, and then began to address him still more amicably.

"Look now, my dear son! Why talk such nonsense? Why say at one moment that you are a poor orphan, and the next that you are a prince? Surely there must be someone in the wide world who would give something to save your skin, some good friend or other who would pay your ransom for you? Just reflect a moment! Surely we don't ask so very much?"

Then it occurred to Simplex that he had one good friend, only unfortunately this friend had also fallen into captivity at Eger, where a butcher had purchased him; if he were in a position to buy his friend off he would certainly do so.

"Oh, come, now! there's sense in that. And what kind of master-butcher is it, then, who purchased your friend?"

"He has a blistered face."

Now as there was no less than thirty and three butchers in Eger whose faces had all been blistered by the fly bites which are part and parcel of their trade, the Kaimakan summoned them all to the fortress, so that Simplex might pick out the right one.

He selected Valentine's master, Ibrahim.

The Kaimakan ordered Ibrahim to bring his slave thither forthwith.

Worthy Valentine was horrified when he saw his poor Simplex in such a condition.

"Poor Simplex! in what misfortune have you not been plunged on my account! I am much better off, for I have a mild sort of master who lets no one beat me but himself, and uses not a stick but a thong of hippopotamus leather."

"But why do you endure it? Why don't you write to your mother to ransom you?"

"I have written to her and prayed her to send the ransom for us both, nor had I long to wait for an answer. She says she is quite ready to pay down the ransom, but only on condition that I henceforth become her slave, do everything she commands, go nowhither without her knowledge and consent, never consort with you again, and utterly forget her whom I love most of all in the world, otherwise she'll leave me in the hands of the Turks."

"And what answer did you make?"

"I wrote to her: 'God bless you, my dear mother, but I prefer to remain where I am, for I'll never forget my beloved, even in death, nor deny my faithful comrade, whom I have sworn to stand by as long as I live.'"

"Bravo, Valentine!" cried Simplex; then snapping his fingers at the Kaimakan, "your servant, Pasha! Now I'll go back to prison again. When the soles of my feet are healed, you can begin the examination over again, if you like!"

So Simplex was carried back to his dungeon, and there he had leisure to learn to make Turkish lace at an asper an ell, and reflect what an absurd sort of destiny it is when a man is beaten on the soles of his feet because his friend is enamored of a woman who can never be his.

Meanwhile the wounds on the soles of his feet began to heal, but that was no consolation to him, for he had been told beforehand that as soon as he was able to stand upright he would again be cross-examined. There were many among the prisoners who had been tortured in this way three or four times. The Turks called it "negotiating." He who offered little, got much.

At last the day arrived when he had again to go before the Kaimakan. He knew it twenty-four hours in advance, for the prisoners who were to be examined got nothing to eat the day before. Bamboo is less injurious when taken on an empty stomach.

Simplex was all of a tremble when he entered the antechamber. The Kaimakan was sitting on his carpet, and on a low table before him steamed a dish of pilaf, that is, sheep's flesh mixed with rice; beside him lay two bamboo canes.

"Ah! Come hither, my son, and choose," said the Kaimakan to the trembling wretch, "which you will have: this dish of pilaf or a hundred strokes on the soles of your feet with these two bamboos? Don't tremble, but choose whichever you like. Here are paper, ink, and pens, write me out a receipt. If you want pilaf, write that you have received pilaf; but if you choose stripes, acknowledge that you've had stripes."

Simplex did not understand it at all. He could not see the point of the Kaimakan's joke. But he did not want the bastinado again, and the pilaf pleasantly tickled his nostrils. So he did not take long to make up his mind, but sat down and consumed the pilaf to the very last morsel. It pleases the Turks when one does not despise their favorite dishes. Simplex knew that.

"Now, my son," said the Kaimakan, when Simplex had finished, "now write that I have this day regaled you with pilaf instead of bamboo, and address your letter to your dear comrade, the honorable, noble, and valiant Valentine Kalondai, that accursed, unbelieving dog who has not only freed himself from captivity without a ransom, but has taken his master, the sheep butcher, along with him to Onod, and now he offers him in exchange for you, and threatens to requite his prisoner good or evil, according as you are treated here."

So Simplex had to testify in writing that the Turks had shown him all possible kindness. Then the fetter was taken off one foot and fastened to his girdle as a sign that he was half free; but he had to go about with the chain on the other foot till his good friend came to take it off.

CHAPTER XIX.

Now the Turk had a very beautiful slave, or wife, which with the Moslems is pretty much the same thing. She was called Jigerdilla, which signifies "the piercer of hearts." She was a Circassian. He had purchased her at Buda from a slave-dealer who had brought a whole shipload of female slaves from Stamboul. The only difference between a wife and a slave is that the slave works, the wife doesn't; Jigerdilla did not work.

The Turkish damsel had, from the very first, taken a fancy to the handsome, stately Hungarian whom her husband had brought into the house as a slave; but it was impossible to begin to intrigue with him there, because too many eyes were on the watch. But whenever she followed her husband into the vineyard, she could speak more freely with Valentine, especially when the meat seller had so well applied himself to the good red wine that they had to prop him up between them all the way.

Kermes Ibrahim—the butcher was called Kermes from his red beard—used sometimes bid his slave sing while he worked, not only because singing makes a man work lustily, but also, and especially, because he would thereby be preserved from the temptation of plucking the grapes. No man can sing and eat at the same time.

Sometimes, when Ibrahim was overpowered by sleep and lay stretched out full length on his carpet, Jigerdilla would join in Valentine's songs, and it is no small encouragement on a lady's part when she accompanies a gentleman's song with her own voice.

But as soon as Jigerdilla began to accompany his songs, Valentine stopped short.

"Why do you leave off?" she asked him.

"Because you've begun, and I'm afraid you'll awaken Ibrahim, and he'll beat me for it."

"Fear nothing! Ibrahim sleeps soundly. I have mixed opium with his tobacco. If you fired off cannons close to his ear he would not awake. We might kiss each other over his body, and still he would not awake."

Valentine made as though he did not understand.

Then Jigerdilla began to sing a popular ballad all about love. Even in those times such ditties used to be sung, but on the sly, in the woods or the meadows; for within the walled cities the clergy forbade them, preached whole series of sermons against them, called them "flower songs," said that they only served to corrupt good manners.

And it certainly is very strange what liberties are taken in singing. If a gentleman said to a pretty woman in simple prose, "My dear, prithee give me a couple of kisses!" she would, there and then, give him an answer with her hand which would make his eyes flash fire; but if he sang the self-same sentence in an elegant manner, the lady would forthwith sit her down at the piano and play the accompaniment. And, again, if a pretty woman were to say to a gentleman, in the presence of her husband, "Taste and see how sweet my kiss is!" the husband would instantly cry vengeance, and send for sword and pistols; but when madame sings the same words in a fine soprano voice before a whole roomful of people, the husband himself is the first to applaud and cry, "Da capo!"

And Jigerdilla could sing those enticing songs so seductively that it was impossible to listen to her and remain cold.

But Valentine manfully hardened his heart, and would not accompany her.

"Can't you sing these songs, then?" asked Jigerdilla derisively.

"I know one or two of them, and have sung them quite often enough. It was for nothing but that that I was expelled from college. But I have vowed that not a single flower song shall cross my lips so long as I am in captivity."

The Turk had in his garden a fine and costly plum tree, and in those days plum trees were accounted curiosities. The fruit upon it was round and red as a rose. Gardeners call them bonameras.

Ibrahim was proud of this tree. He had told Valentine beforehand, that if he dared to pluck a single plum, he would break every bone in his body. He had destined all the fruit for the table of the pasha.

One afternoon, Jigerdilla again accompanied her lord into the garden. She again mingled opium with his tobacco so as to make him dead-drunk, and then, as Valentine still refused to sing a flower song with her, she threw herself on the grass in a pet, and pretended to fall asleep.

The sun was shining fiercely, and so great was Valentine's thirst that his tongue cleaved to the very roof of his mouth. The grapes he dare not touch, for their juice left a black stain behind it, but the rosy red plums smiled at him so enticingly. They, at any rate, were not numbered. So fancying that no one saw him, he ventured to steal up to the tree, drew down a branch, and ate of the plums that were reserved for the pasha's table.

"The pasha would get the fever if he ate so many. Why should he have them all?"

Suddenly he heard behind him a mocking peal of laughter—Jigerdilla had been on the watch all the time—and in his terror he started back so violently, that he snapped off the branch of the plum tree which he had pulled down toward him.

"Ha, ha, Valentine! Now you can look forward to something pleasant."

Back he went to his work very much ashamed, and he now worked with such zeal that he finished in one hour what it usually took him two to do. But Jigerdilla gave him no peace. She made ribald songs upon him, pelted him with green nuts, and mocked him in all sorts of ways.

And Valentine felt just like a child who has been naughty and expects to be beaten for it. The Turk had often said that he would not give a branch of this tree for a hundred denarii. How many blows with a whip would he reckon to a denarius?

When it was evening the butcher awoke. He fell to drinking again, and he drank so much that his wife and his slave had to prop him up on his way back to the house.

As he passed by the bonamera tree, he perceived that a branch had been broken off.

At this sight he immediately became quite sober.

"Who did that?" he roared, tearing his whip from his girdle, while his eyes rolled about as if he were the brother of the hippopotamus whose hide had supplied the lashes of his whip.

But before Valentine could say a word, Jigerdilla had already exclaimed:

"I did it. What does it matter if there be one paltry branch more or less?"

The only misfortune which happened in consequence was this: Ibrahim raised his whip without more ado, and belabored the back of his dear wife with the full force of his fury, and perhaps he would have flayed her from her head to her heels had he not accidently stumbled and fallen on his nose, when the blood spurted out so violently that he had enough to do to stop it till he got home.

But in the meantime, Jigerdilla had endured sufficient stripes to convince Valentine that hot indeed must be the passion felt for him by this woman, who was ready to take a slave's fault on her own shoulders, and suffer the punishment which ought to have been his.

At noon, next day, all three went into the vineyard together.

When Ibrahim had gone to sleep as usual, Jigerdilla called Valentine to her.

"I still feel sore from yesterday's stripes," she said. Then she gave him a silver box of ointment.

"I can't reach the wounds on my shoulder. Rub them for me with this balsam."

With that she let her dress glide down over her shoulders so that Valentine could see her naked, snow-white neck and back; but he also saw great red wheals, as thick as his finger, stretching right across the velvety skin.

Valentine rubbed them well with the fragrant balsam, and then asked Jigerdilla if her wounds felt a little easier.

"I should get well much more quickly if only you would kiss them!"

Valentine recoiled at these words.

"How should I kiss the shoulders of a strange woman who is also my master's wife?"

"Your master is sleeping, he sees nothing."

"But God sees."

The Turkish lady looked around in astonishment.

"I see no one!"

"God is present everywhere, though invisible."

"If He is invisible, His whip must also be invisible, and He therefore cannot beat me with it."

"Nay, but His invisible whip can beat right sorely. Look at me! I have not done but only thought of doing something which God forbids, and for that one sin I now bear these fetters."

"I would take off your chains every night. I know where Ibrahim keeps the keys of them—in his girdle. You shall only be a slave by day. At night you shall be free, and the ransom would not be dear, we could easily agree about it; you could pay it off in kisses."

"But that would be a sin before God!"

"How can it offend God if a man kisses a woman?"

"Because that would be breaking His commandment, which forbids a man to lust after that which belongs to another."

"Come now, tell me!" cried Jigerdilla, suddenly giving another turn to the conversation, "how could you quietly look on yesterday, while Ibrahim whipped me instead of you? Why did you not seize his arm and confess that it was you who did the mischief?"

"I'll tell you why. I did not keep silence for fear of the blows, but because I was afraid that Ibrahim would have killed you if I had told the truth."

"And what made you fear that Ibrahim would have killed me?"

"Because you took my fault on your shoulders."

"And what conclusion could Ibrahim draw from that?"

But this Valentine would not tell her.

Jigerdilla, however, helped him out.

"He might have thought," continued she, "that I belong more to you than to him. And why, indeed, might I not belong wholly to you?"

"Because you are his."

"It is true. He bought me for five hundred ducats; but if you gave him one thousand ducats for me he would hand me over to you, for he is greedy, and fond of money."

Valentine laughed heartily at these words.

"Whence would a poor devil like me get one thousand ducats?"

"Wait a bit, and I'll tell you something which I've never told to anybody else. Sit down by me! Nay! sit so that you can look into my eyes. When Ibrahim bought this vineyard, the kiosk already stood there, and in the kiosk was an oven. During vintage time, Ibrahim often took it into his head to sleep in the open air, and I had to bake bread for him. Once, as I was taking the loaves out of the oven, I found a ducat sticking to one of them. I said nothing about it, but waited till it was night, when I took up a knife and ripped up the floor of the oven. The whole of the underlying mortar was full of ducats. I suppose that when the town was taken by the Turks, some rich proprietor or other hid them there, and afterward perished in the war. I did not take away the treasure, but left it there, spread fresh mortar over it, and made a fire upon it to burn the mortar hard. The treasure is there now. I said nothing to Ibrahim about it, for if he got the money he would only drink the more and beat me oftener; nay, he would bring fresh wives into the house, and I should have trouble and strife enough. So I'll give the whole treasure to you. You can then ransom yourself and purchase me, and you'll have enough left for both of us to live comfortably together."

Valentine was in a sad difficulty. What was he to do? Fate gave him the chance of securing a pretty woman and a lot of money besides. At last he summoned his religion to his assistance.

"It is impossible, my good lady," said he apologetically; "the men of my faith do not buy women with money. No, our women, following the bent of their hearts, freely give their hands to the men of their own choice. And the men who marry them pay them for their devotion, not with gifts and gold, but with equal devotion and sympathy."

At these words Jigerdilla smote her hands together.

"Then your religion will suit me very well. If in your country such things are not matters of cash and barter, but free-will offerings, that is just what I should like. I'll follow you of my own free will. I'll fly with you, learn to know your God, go to your church, and take in baptism whatever name you like to give me."

Valentine ought to have found the offer very tempting. Had Dame Sarah been at his side she would certainly have said:

"Look, my son, now you've got fortune by the forelock, hold on fast with both hands and never let go again. You'll get a wondrously beautiful young woman, with large black eyes and a small red mouth, and a whole oven full of ducats besides; and (which is the main thing after all) you'll be saving an erring, unbelieving soul for an eternal salvation, and will thus obtain for yourself a claim upon Paradise." And it would have been the most natural thing in the world to have thought so.

But Valentine was very far indeed from thinking so. So long as the image of Michal lived in his heart, he saw in every other woman, however beautiful, only an evil spirit of temptation to which one has only to say, "Depart hence!" and it will instantly vanish into the air.

He loved another.

But he did not tell Jigerdilla so.

Instead of that he pulled a very wry face, bowed himself humbly, and said:

"How could I be such a villain as to seduce my master's wife?"

At this, Jigerdilla, fairly beside herself with rage, tore off her slipper, struck Valentine in the face, and cried:

"Be off, slave! Take your spade and set about your work!"

Then she covered herself once more with her veil that the bumpkin might not see her face again, and her contempt for him was so great that she did not even think it worth while to fear that the craven would abuse the secret that he had learnt. "He who dare not touch his master's wife will certainly never dare to lay a hand on his master's treasure."

Then, with a good deal of unnecessary bustle, she bounced out of the vineyard, first stopping to bestow on the slumbering Ibrahim a kick sufficiently vicious to awaken him.

The Turk, thus roughly aroused from his narcotic sleep, began first of all to throw his arms and legs about; then he revolved five or six times on his axis, and finally rolled over a little hillock into the garden below. There he lay for some time, dreaming on with wide-open eyes and addressing the paradisaical shapes which the opium had conjured up before him. Then he stared blankly into the world around him; began blinking with his eyes and plunging with his knees, and at last raised himself on his elbows and bellowed for his slave.

Valentine hastened up to him.

"Where is my wife?"

"Am I your wife's keeper? Perhaps she has gone home."

"I dreamt that she had been nibbling again at my plums. These women are so greedy. But I know that you, Valentine, have not eaten of my plums. Nor shall you do so, you dog! These plums are like the fruit of the tuba tree which stands in Paradise, and which you can never taste, you giaour, you swine, you! What have you done with my wife? It would be as well if I plucked all these plums and sent them to the pasha. What do you think he'll give me for them? Do you think that I can climb up that tree? What! I tell you I can fly up it like a squirrel."

Opium smokers in their drunken reveries always fancy themselves strong and agile. Yet the worthy man could not stand, much less fly.

So Valentine helped Ibrahim to climb the plum tree. The Turk was determined to pluck every one of the plums himself; the hand of a slave should never profane the dessert of the pasha.

And the poor slave was all the time thinking to himself that when he got home with his lord, Jigerdilla would treat him exactly as Potiphar's wife treated Joseph. A woman has no need to betake herself to the Old Testament to learn how to avenge herself on the man who has slighted her advances.

She will certainly get him beaten to death by her husband.

And to make the resemblance between the two cases more complete, there was a vision to be interpreted.

"What is the meaning of the dreams I've just been dreaming?" growled Ibrahim, in the tree. "I dreamt that a hen pounced down upon an eagle and flew away with him—not the eagle with the hen, but the hen with the eagle."

"Just you come down from that tree and I'll let you know all about it," thought Valentine to himself, and while Ibrahim was plucking the plums, he took out of his master's discarded girdle the key of his own fetters and quickly freed his feet. Then he planted himself close beside the tree.

Ibrahim was so busily engaged in plucking his fruit, and so lost in admiration at his beautiful bonameras, that it quite escaped him that the sun was going down, and that they had begun to sound the retreat in the fortress. Now this signified that everyone was to leave off laboring in his field or vineyard, for at the third signal the gates were closed, and whoever then remained outside had to stay there all night. Only at the third signal did Kermes reflect that it was growing late, and begin to climb down from the plum tree. First he handed to Valentine the basket-load of bonameras, and then he slowly began to let himself down, and begged his slave to help him.

And Valentine did help him, for just when Ibrahim was hanging with both hands to a branch between heaven and earth, Valentine threw the basket at him, plums and all, tore him to the ground, bound his hands to his back, and kicked him into the kiosk. The neighbors observed nothing of all this, for they were much too intent upon getting to the town themselves before the gates were closed, to notice what others were doing.

Valentine next locked the door of the kiosk and set about tearing up the mortar flooring.

Jigerdilla had spoken truly; there was no lack of ducats. Valentine did not let the opportunity escape him, but swept all the gold pieces together and put them into Ibrahim's knapsack. Then he donned the Turk's kaftan, turban, and girdle, compelling him to put on his own slave's clothes; and when it grew dusk, he threw a rope round his neck, and said to him:

"Now we are going to Onod, and if you dare to utter a word by the way, I'll break your own ax to pieces over your bald pate!" And as Ibrahim Kermes was very anxious about his beautiful ax, and still more so about his skull, he allowed himself, with true Mohammedan resignation, to be driven through the alley between the vineyards into the wood and from thence into the next village. There Valentine hired from the Christian magistrate a four-horse wagon, and drove with his captive master to Onod, where he arrived early next morning safe and sound.

CHAPTER XX.

He could scarcely wait for Simplex to appear, so impatient was he to set out with him to discover Michal.

But the ransom of the prisoners did not go off so smoothly after all. The Kaimakan of Eger wrote to the Commandant of Onod that he did not consider the Eger butcher worth four hundred gulden, the amount of the trumpeter's ransom. There were still two and thirty butchers at Eger, and therefore he would not give more than two hundred gulden for this particular butcher. If the other two hundred gulden were not paid in cash, the whole of the Christian prisoners at Eger should suffer for it on the soles of their feet. Annexed to the Kaimakan's letter was a heart-rending petition from the Christian prisoners, in which they implored the Commandant to fulfill the desire of the Kaimakan for their sakes.

The Commandant of Onod thereupon fetched out of prison the six and twenty Turks who were in captivity there, and made them address a solemn memorial to the Kaimakan of Eger, whom they piteously besought not to bastinado the Christian captives, as in such a case they, the Turkish captives, would be visited with still more grievous torments.

The principal sufferers, however, were the two prisoners who were to be exchanged, and from whom both sides tried to extort as much as possible, so that in their mutual distress they grew quite fond of each other.

At last Valentine sent the extra two hundred gulden, and both Simplex and the Turkish butcher were escorted to Eger with fetters on only one leg. There the Kaimakan received his gold and the butcher his wife. Ibrahim Kermes celebrated his liberation with a banquet, to which Simplex was also invited, and regaled with mutton in twelve different editions. Finally, Ibrahim presented him with a pair of red morocco slippers, while Jigerdilla sent Valentine a couple of superfine laced pocket-handkerchiefs, with initials embroidered in the four corners in Turkish letters, and wet with the tears from her lovely eyes at the recollection of him.

But Ibrahim Kermes swore by the beard of the Prophet that he would never again buy a Calvinist giaour as a slave, even if he could get him for a single denarius.

And now, after all this, it is high time that Valentine set out to seek his unhappy Michal.

CHAPTER XXI.

"Now just listen to me. I'm a Lutheran. I don't believe in predestination. But you are a Calvinist. You are bound to believe in it. You know for certain that everything which happens, or may happen to you, is already recorded in a great book which has been written before the beginning of the world. Your will can alter nothing therein, and if it is recorded of you that you must die on the top of a mountain, and you don't go up the mountain, the summit will come down to you and place itself beneath your feet. I say you have only got to take the first step, and all the other steps will follow as a matter of course. If you resolve to see your beloved, you will never leave her again, but will bring her back with you, though you walked in the shadow of the gallows all the way along. If all this had not been preordained, you would have remained at home and married Kitty Fürmender."

They were discoursing thus as they proceeded along the highway, provided this time with such good weapons that not every kidnaper of slaves would have cared to attack them. But as far as these waylayers were concerned, they felt themselves pretty safe, for they had chosen not the Kassa road but the Gäuz road, and such abductors very seldom ventured on the left bank of the Hernad, because the river is liable to overflow, and thus often prevents them from escaping when hard pressed by pursuers.

What our wanderers really had to fear were the ordinary robber bands who terrorized those regions, and whose exact whereabouts could only be learnt by experience; for these bandits were here, there, and everywhere, and very often broke into Poland, where they were naturally as welcome guests as here in Transylvania.

Simplex undertook to find out all about the robbers from the frequenters of the fairs, who were generally best informed on the subject. His friend he left at an inn in the meantime.

When he returned, his face was beaming with joy.

"Didn't I say that we were Fortune's own children? Didn't you come into the world in a caul, Valentine? The town is full of joy. All three robber bands have been captured. They fell into an ambuscade while on their way to plunder the Iglo fair. Three counties and the Imperial soldiers were banded together for the occasion. They drove them out of their rocky lairs, occupied every point of exit, and at last the robbers ran short of powder, and all who had not already fallen surrendered. The haughty Hafran and the cruel Bajus were taken alive. Their comrades, to obtain a pardon, delivered them up bound hand and foot. But most wonderful of all is Janko's story. It was I who contributed to his overthrow. The pursuers were unable to lay hands upon him, for when he saw himself abandoned by his own people and surrounded on every side, he cut down a pine tree and glided with it over a rocky precipice; then he climbed up another steep rock like a wild cat, so that no one could come up with him. Yet he was taken after all, and he has a woman to thank for it. He had sent a message through me to the wife of the kopanitschar of Hamar (and I passed it on to an oil merchant) that she should treat him friendly when he next came to her, but that her husband should not show his face at all. Now, when he saw himself so hotly pursued, Janko fled straight to the kopanitschar's wife, who is his sweetheart. The woman received him with open arms, made him a great feast, and they were right merry together. Wine flowed all night, and a couple of bagpipers played the music by turns. They soon got tired of playing, but Janko never tired of dancing. He drank on to midday, and was in such high good-humor that he did not know what to do with himself. At last he scattered handfuls of gold among the gaping peasantry, and while they were fighting for it among themselves, he went out into the fields, declaring that whosoever dared to follow him would be a dead man. And, indeed, no one had the courage to follow him but one man, and that man was the kopanitschar.

"Janko had looked for him all night long in order to kill him, but he had remained concealed in a hayrick till midday. At midday, he crept out of his hiding-place and went to look for Janko. He had no other weapon but a long, two-pronged wooden fork, which they use in those parts to toss hay.

"And he found Janko stretched out at full length in the meadow, and fast asleep. The kopanitschar caught him round the neck between the prongs of the fork, and pinned him fast to the ground. The terrible robber was caught and quite harmless. In vain he roared and cursed; the kopanitschar's iron fist and wooden fork held him down till the rest mustered up sufficient courage to hasten up and secure him.

"To-morrow the whole three of them will be executed at Eperies, and we will be there to see it all."

CHAPTER XXII.

And it all happened exactly as Simplex said. For they had no sooner stepped out of the tavern than they were stopped by a patrol of drabants, who learning that they were soldiers, showed them the mandate of the Commandant of Eperies, whereby all the soldiers on leave in the district were ordered to Eperies, to remain in the market place during the day, so that the people might not disturb the execution of the law's sentence, or the comrades of the robbers release them by a sudden and audacious onslaught.

So Valentine had to march to Eperies, with the other men-at-arms, whether he liked it or not.

Crowds of people were pouring into the town that day, from all quarters, as if a great banquet were to be given, or a lord lieutenant installed—gentlemen in coaches or on horseback, peasants sitting ten in a wagon, students, apprentices, peddlers, sacred-image sellers, and deceivers of all sorts.

Simplex and Valentine were sent on by wagon the same night to Eperies, where they arrived at dawn next morning.

At that time, Eperies no longer presented the smiling aspect of half a century before. The internecine disorders, the religious discussions, the ravages of robbers, had laid bare the whole region. The stumps of trees and wildering weeds were all that remained of the orchards which had once encircled the city walls, and whole rows of ruined pleasure houses were left to tell what a merry life had once been there.

Instead of the fine old plum and lordly apple trees quite another sort of grove had grown up around the bastions—a ghastly grove of gaunt, withered trees, laden with sad fruits, a wood of gallowses, wheels, and spikes, on which the bones of criminals were rotting. The three captured robber bands had largely contributed to this gruesome grove. The lesser fry, the receivers of stolen goods, and the women who had brought the robbers' powder from the town, had been executed outside the trenches, three days before; only for the three robber chieftains was reserved the supreme distinction of being done to death within the walls. One could not make too sure of them.

In the great square, where the townhall and the large covered market stand opposite to each other, that terrible edifice, generally called the scaffold, had been raised. It towered high up and could only be ascended by ladders, which the headsman's apprentices, when they went to work, drew up after them so that none might follow. In the middle of the scaffold stood a broad block against which heavy wheels were leaning. On each side of the block two thick stakes were fastened with heavy dependent chains, the links of which could be locked and unlocked. From the top of each of these stakes projected huge forks with bars across them and hooks hanging down from the bars.

In front of the townhall a dais had been erected for the convenience of the sheriffs, mayor, and town councilors. A guard of honor stood in front of the dais, and the scaffold was environed by soldiers three deep. Valentine tried to get into the hindermost row. He wanted to see as little as possible of the terrible spectacle. Simplex stood by his side, so as to be at hand in case his friend was taken ill. The great square was filled with a gaping crowd. At the windows stood or sat gayly dressed women, just as if a Corpus Christi procession were about to pass. The very roofs of the houses were covered with human heads. Booths had been erected in the market place, where cakes and mead were offered for sale, steaks basted, and pancakes tossed in large pans. The biographies of the robbers, printed on coarse paper with red frontispieces, were also hawked about.

Conspicuous among the itinerant gypsies and peddlers was a woman who offered for sale long thongs fastened to the end of a stick, and was particularly importunate with Simplex.

"Come Mr. Trumpeter, won't you buy a thong made out of the skin flayed from the robbers' backs?"

Simplex at once recognized the voice; it was Pirka the witch. So under the pretext of chaffing with her, he at once entered into a conversation.

"What are these thongs of human skin good for?"

"They are good against the plague and falling sickness. They also keep wild beasts away, and compel the most stubborn of sweethearts to surrender."

"And how much are they apiece?"

"Four thalers."

But Valentine could stand it no longer.

"Don't be a fool," said he to Simplex, "she's cheating you. Those thongs of fool leather, you'll get them from the farriers for a penny apiece."

"That's all you know about it, Mr. Corporal," cried the witch, gnashing her teeth; "my husband is not a knacker who flays horses, but a headsman who flays men."

Valentine shuddered, and spat on the ground.

"Then if your wares be really genuine, they are doubly loathsome. Be off with you!"

Simplex gave Pirka a nudge with his elbow and pointed at Valentine with a wink, whereupon Pirka looked slyly askance at him, and arching her elbows and screwing up her mouth, said to Valentine:

"Well, well, Mr. Corporal, for all your fine airs you'll be glad enough before long to take something from me which comes through the headsman's hands."

Simplex trod on her foot to make her hold her tongue, and then they began talking together in a low voice, as if they were only haggling about the thongs.

The next moment Pirka had as completely vanished as if the earth had swallowed her up.

When the clock in the townhall tower struck eight, the bells of the Franciscan convent close by began to ring, the roll of drums was heard proceeding from the courtyard, and the sad procession appeared in the market place.

First came the magistrates, who ascended the cloth-laid steps of the dais, on the top of which the town-clerk recited the sentence aloud. Then came the guards, sword in hand, and between them the three delinquents, each of whom had a cord round his neck, the end of which was held by one of the headsman's apprentices. Last of all came the headsman, the old vihodar himself, on a white horse, dressed in a long red mantle half covering his steed; a black biretta with a red plume covered his head, and he held a naked sword in his right hand. Two of his henchmen led the horse. Behind him marched eight apprentices, who brought with them a whole arsenal of instruments of torture.

Valentine turned his head aside in order to see nothing of all this. Had he but looked, he would certainly have recognized one of the headsman's assistants.

The mob saluted the robbers with a fearful howl, which they answered with hideous curses. But their filthiest imprecations were hurled at the women among the spectators, who were ready to sink into the ground for shame.

All three delinquents bore traces of torture on their bodies. They were covered with burns and sores. Yet they showed no signs of weakness. On the contrary, they greeted the old vihodar with wild laughter, and scornfully challenged him to show them of his skill.

He coolly tossed the scarlet mantle from his shoulders, and in a low voice distributed his commands to the apprentices, who were already assembled on the scaffold.

The mob set up a frightful yell at the sight of the grim, stalwart graybeard, to which he responded with a mock bow like a stage hero.

He opened the proceedings with Bajus.

Valentine had no need to stop his ears, for Bajus never uttered a sound. Not a sigh escaped him. The people all round whispered to one another in shuddering awe. The robber's cold contempt of death, and the calmness with which he endured all manner of tortures, raised him in their eyes to the rank of a hero.