Chapter 22

David took up his crutches and followed her, with such joyful alacrity that his feet scarcely seemed to touch the earth; he appeared already to possess wings instead of crutches.

As they passed the chamber of the dead, he approached his grandfather's coffin, and, kissing the cold face and hands, murmured, with an expression of unwonted joy, "We shall meet soon!"

The women looked at him with surprise; they had never seen him smile thus before, and thought that grief had estranged his mind. Judith left the room, telling them she would soon return, and herself conducted the cripple to the tower, while he followed with a vigour he had hitherto never displayed;--the spirit seemed actually bearing up the fragile body.

When they reached the top, Judith kissed the cripple's brow, and pressed his hand in silence.

David locked the door after her, and threw the key out of the window along with his crutches.

"I shall want them no more," he cried, as Judith passed below the tower. "I wish to be certain that I shall not fail in the hour of temptation."

He then placed himself at the window, and looked out towards the mountains.

* * * * *

Judith returned to the house of mourning, and found the women still weeping round the bier.

She motioned to them to dry their tears--her majestic form, calm features, and commanding eye, seemed formed to be obeyed. The women were silent, and Judith addressed them in a clear, steady voice:

"Sisters!--widows and orphans of Kezdi-Vasarhely!--Heaven has visited us with great and severe trials; we have outlived all that was good--all that we loved on earth; there is not a house in which some beloved one was not expected who will never now return! However long we may live, no happiness awaits us in this world! we may grow old and gray in our deserted homes, but the best part of our lives lies beneath the sod; and this is not the heaviest stroke which awaits us. Instead of the beloved, those who have shed their heart's-blood will come--we shall see them take possession of the places which our beloved ones have left; instead of the familiar voices, we shall hear the harsh tones, and meet the unfeeling gaze of strangers--of our bitter enemies! Shall we await that time? Death gives back all that life has taken away--and death can take nothing but life! If I did not know that I am among Szekely women, I would take leave of you, and say, I go alone to die! but I know you all--where I am you will be also; you will act as I do, and be worthy of your dead. Go home to your houses, conceal everything you value; make fires in every stove, and boil water and oil in every vessel. At the first sound of the bell, let every one of you assemble here; we will then carry out the dead to the gate of the town, and dig his grave across the road before it, and with this moat the town shall be closed--none shall pass from within alive! Haste! put your houses in order, and return here at the first sound of the bell!"

The women dispersed--with the calmness of despair they went home, and did as Judith desired, and collected all the weapons they could find, but not another tear was shed.

* * * * *

The bell of the tower had begun to toll; it was the only bell left in Kezdi-Vasarhely; the rest had all been founded into cannon. Clouds of dust were seen to rise far off on the winding mountain-path, above Predialo, and the tolling of the bell announced the approach of the Russian troops. Two companies marched towards the gates of Kezdi-Vasarhely; one from without, the other from within the town. One was formed of hardened soldiers, the other of women and girls. On one side the enlivening sound of military music was heard, and colours floated on the breeze; on the other, the dismal tones of the funeral song arose, and mourning veils fluttered round the bier.

A troop of Circassian horsemen paused before the gates. Their dress, their features, their language--all seemed to recall a strange image of the past, of those ancient times when first the Magyar people sought a home in the unknown world--for even then, persecuted by fate, they wandered forth in millions, driven from their own country; and some found a home among the wild mountains of the Caucasus, others wandered still farther, and the parted brethren never met, or heard of each other more, till, mingled with the surrounding nations, both had changed; and when, a thousand years later, the world's caprice once more brought them together, and they met as foes, both were struck by some strange sympathy, some sad chord which touched each alike, and their hearts felt oppressed, and their arms sank, they knew not wherefore.

The leader of the troop was a young chief, whose oval face, handsome sunburnt features, and dark eyes, bore great resemblance to the Szekely Magyar, and if he had worn a dolmany, none would have distinguished the one from the other; but his dress was not that of the present Magyar, and yet the crimson-bordered toque, the short linen vest, beneath which flowed the long coloured kaftan, the curved sword--even the manner of girding it on--all recalled some well-known object, like a portrait once seen, the name of which we have forgotten, or the impression caused by some dream, or bygone scene of childhood, and we sigh to be unable to speak to them, or understand their language, to ask if they are happier among their mountains than their brothers on the plain, or if they, too, weep like us; and bid them, when they return, and sit in the evenings at the threshold of their mountain homes--those which they so bravely defended, speak of us to their children, and point to where the setting sun gilds the home of the Magyar, and breathe a prayer for their suffering brethren.

The grave was dug, and the women stood before it chanting their mournful dirges, while the measure was now and then interrupted by sobs, and the solemn bell tolled the knell of death--the death of the town.

The leader of the troop alighted from his horse, his comrades followed his example, and taking their csalmas from their heads, they clasped their hands and stood beside the grave in silent prayer. Who would have thought that these were enemies?

After a pause of a few minutes, the leader made a motion to approach the women on the opposite side of the grave, but Judith calmly advanced, and waved him back. "Approach not," she exclaimed--"the grave is the boundary between us; there is nothing to seek in the town--none but women and children inhabit it--the widows and orphans of those you have killed; and here, in this grave, lies the last man of Kezdi-Vasarhely, a holy man, whom God permitted to live eighty-nine years, to be the friend and counsellor of the whole town, and has now called to Himself, because the town has no more need of him: his spirit fled at the first news of the lost battle, for he was blind ten years: had he not been blind, the steel and not the news of the battle would have killed him, as it killed the rest. The women of Kezdi-Vasarhely have buried him here, that none may enter the town. They wish to live in solitude, as becomes widows whose husbands have fallen in battle; and therefore, blessed be the grave which shuts us out from the world, and accursed be he who steps over it, both before and after his death!"

The Circassian drew a white handkerchief from his bosom, and placing it on the end of his spear, spoke to the Szekely women in a language unknown to them, although the tone, and even the accent, seemed familiar. He wished to tell them that he had brought peace to their town; that they had nothing to fear from him; that he only desired admittance. The women understood his intention, but motioned a refusal. "In vain you bring peace!" they exclaimed; "as long as there is a living breath here, there must be war between us and you; only death can bring us peace. Seek quarters for your troops elsewhere; the world is large enough--there is no rest for you here; grief reigns alone in this town, where the ghosts of the grave wander through the streets, women bewailing the dead, and driven by despair to madness--depart from here!"

The action of the women, the unknown yet familiar tones, awakened a strange sad echo in the heart of the young Circassian, as he stood supported on his lance, looking on the mourners before him.

Brought up in the stern exercise of military duty, he was accustomed to fulfil the word of command, without regard to circumstances; but now his strength seemed to fail him, and he hesitated to force his way through a party of weak women.

"Take the white handkerchief from your lance," cried Judith, "and steep it in our heart's blood--then you may enter our town;" and as he leapt into the saddle, several of the women threw themselves before his horse's feet, causing the animal to rear and neigh.

But the Circassian remembered that he had a beloved mother at home whose words so much resembled those of that proud matron--and sisters, and a young bride, beautiful as those young girls who had thrown themselves before his horse's feet--with just such dark glorious eyes, sad features, and light forms; and his heart failed him. He turned quickly aside, that the women might not see the tears which filled his eyes; and then, dashing his spurs into his horse's side, he once more waved his white handkerchief to the kneeling women, and galloped from the gate. His comrades hastened after him; their lances gleamed through clouds of dust, which soon concealed them from view; but neither the Szekely nor the Circassian women saw that young chieftain more.

He was summoned before a military tribunal for transgression of duty, and suffered the stern fate of the soldier.

Troops of a different nature were sent next against the town, whose horses trampled down the grave, and whose bayonets forced open the closed doors.

It was a weary strife, without the glory of war; one by one each house was taken, defended as they were by women and children; the contest was renewed in every street; the infuriated inhabitants pouring boiling water and oil over the heads of their enemies, while the fearful tolling of the bell, heard above the cries and the clang of arms, excited them to still greater desperation.

The combat continued till night, when the song of triumph was heard in the streets--the town was in the hands of the enemy. Suddenly, as if it had descended from heaven, fire burst from the roofs of the houses, and in an instant, the wind coming to the assistance of the flames, carried the fiery embers from one end of the town to the other. Cries of despair arose amidst the howling of the blast, but dense clouds of smoke concealed all but the flames which darted through them, devouring as they passed; and high above, the roof of the tower blazed like a gigantic torch, while the solemn tolling still continued, the voice of battle, of fire, of tempest, and of death: a fearful crash was heard, and all was still--the bell had fallen.

* * * * *

The two elements remained joint masters of the field. The wind and the flames contended over the ruins of Kezdi-Vasarhely.

A BALL.

DEAREST ILMA,--I am in despair! I am very ill, and in bed! Ah! I shall never dance a quadrille again. I will go into a convent, or marry, or make away with myself in some other way. Conceive what has happened to me! Oh! it is too dreadful, too shocking! you never read such a thing in a romance!

You may have heard that the Hungarian troops marched through here last week, after the battle of Branyisko; there was the greatest panic and confusion at the news of their approach; we expected that they would have set fire to the town, and pillaged, and killed us--indeed, mamma said there was no knowing what horrors they might commit, and she desired me to scratch my face with my nails, and disfigure myself, in case they should wish to carry me off! Did you ever hear such an idea?

Well! ere long the national guards marched in with their bands playing. Papa went to meet them with a deputation. Our servants all ran out to see the soldiers, and I could not find mamma anywhere; the day before, she had never ceased searching for a place to conceal herself in--never answering me when I called and looked for her; and if by chance I found her in a wardrobe, or in the clock, she scolded me severely for discovering her hiding-place.

As I was left quite alone, I thought the best thing I could do was to lay out the table with every sort of eatable and wine I could find; that at least these national guards should not eat me, but find something else prepared for them; and I determined in my own mind to give them quietly every thing they asked for, and let them see I did not fear them in the least; and then I waited with the utmost resignation to hear cries for help through the streets.

At last the sound of spurred footsteps and clinking swords echoed along the corridor, but no noise or swearing; _au contraire_, a very polite double knock at the door. In my terror or flurry, however, I had no power to say, Come in. But do not imagine they broke in the door with their muskets--not at all, they only repeated the knock, and waited till I gave permission, in a trembling voice--expecting at least six dog-faced Tartars to enter, with square heads and skin caps--beards down to their girdles, and dressed in bears' hides, with leather sacks over their shoulders, to thrust their plunder into; and covered all over with pistols and knives, as I have heard mamma describe them; but conceive my surprise, when, instead of all this, two young officers walked in; one fair, and the other dark, but very well dressed, and just like other people.

They wore small fur cloaks across their shoulders, and under this, a tight-fitting attila--no idea of skins or square heads; indeed, the dark one was quite a handsome youth.

Their first action was to beg pardon for any inconvenience they might cause; to which I replied, that I considered it no inconvenience whatever, and was ready to serve them in any way they wanted.

The dark youth, glancing at the table, could scarcely refrain from a smile, which embarrassed me extremely, as I thought he must have supposed I had prepared all this on purpose for him. At last the other relieved my embarrassment, by thanking me politely for all my proffered services, and only begged I would show them an apartment where they could take some rest, as they were very tired, not having slept in a bed for six weeks, or lain down at all for two days.

Poor creatures! I quite pitied them--not to have slept in a bed for six weeks!

"Indeed!" I exclaimed, "it must have been very uncomfortable to have been obliged to sleep on a divan, or even in a camp-bed, for six entire weeks!"

They both laughed. "On the bare ground--on the snow--under the clear sky," they replied.

Oh, heavens! even our servants would have died, had they been obliged to pass one winter's night out of doors.

I begged them to follow me, and showed them our best room, in which there were two beds. As the servants were all out, I was going to make down the bed myself.

"Oh, we cannot allow that!" they both exclaimed, "we can do that ourselves;" and seeing they had need of rest, I bowed, and hastened to leave them alone.

Scarcely had I reached my own room, when I heard a terrible shriek, which seemed to proceed from the apartment I had just left, and cries of "Help! robbers! murder!"

I knew the voice, but in my terror I could not remember who it was, and still the cries continued, "Help! murder!"

If you can imagine my situation, you may suppose that I never moved from the spot on which I stood, till the voice, echoing through the rooms, at last approached my apartment.

It was my dear mamma!--but in what a plight!

Her clothes all crumpled, her cap over her eyes, one of her shoes off, and her whole face as red as if she had come out of an oven. It was a long time before I could make out where she had been, or what had happened to her. Well! only fancy. She had hid in the very room where I had quartered my two guests, and where, do you think?--in one of the beds, under all the feather quilts! Now you may imagine the rest, and the surprise of the national guard officer when he threw himself down half dead with fatigue. Poor mamma had good reason to cry out; but what an idea, to hide there!

After much trouble, I calmed her a little, and endeavoured to persuade her that these national guards had not come to rob or kill us; and, finally, I succeeded so far, that she promised not to hide again, and I undertook to explain to the officers, that mamma had the rheumatism, and was obliged to get under all these feather beds, by way of a vapour bath!

Meanwhile our guests had scarcely time to fall asleep, when an orderly arrived, who desired to speak with them.

"You cannot see them at present," I replied--"they are both asleep; but you may wait, or come again."

"Where are they sleeping?" he asked.

I showed him the room, and without the slightest consideration, as to whether it was proper to awake them, after being two whole days without rest, he walked coolly into the room.

I expected they would have immediately cut the man in pieces for disturbing them, instead of which, in a few minutes, they both appeared, completely dressed, and followed the orderly, without the slightest sign of displeasure. The major had sent for them.

How strange this military life must be, how people can submit without the least resistance! I should be a very bad soldier indeed, for I always like to know beforehand why I am ordered to do a thing.

In about half an hour the officers returned--no ill-humour or sleepiness was visible; they did not even return to their rooms; but asked for mamma and me, and announced to us in very flattering terms, that the officers' corps had _improviséd_ a ball for that night, to which we were invited, and then they immediately begged to engage me for a _française_, a csardas, and a polonaise (there was to be no waltzing), and I naturally promised everything.

It was our first ball since the Carnival, and they seemed to enjoy the thoughts of it as much as I did, for they would not hear of sleeping any more.

Mamma, however, never ceased making every objection and difficulty she could think of.

"You have no ball dress."

"My white dress, dear mamma; I only wore it once."

"It is old-fashioned."

"A little bow of national ribbon, and you will have the prettiest of new fashions," interrupted the dark officer.

"But my foot aches," persevered mamma.

"But there is no absolute necessity for your dancing, dear mamma."

The officers did not laugh--out of politeness; and for the same reason, mamma did not scold me till they had gone away.

"You foolish child," she said angrily, "to rush openly in the face of danger, and ruin yourself intentionally!"

I thought mamma was afraid I should take cold, as she always was, when I prepared for a ball; and to calm her fears I reminded her that there was to be no waltzing. This made her still more angry. "You have no sense," she exclaimed. "Do you suppose they are giving this ball that they may dance? not at all! it is all finesse--all a plot of the national guards, to get the young girls of the town together, when they will probably seize them, and carry them off to Turkey."

"Ah, mamma! why, officers are not allowed to marry in time of war," I reminded her, laughing.

On this she scolded me still more, called me a little goose, and told me I should find out to my cost; and with this threat she left me to prepare for the ball.

I was busy enough until evening getting everything ready. According to the officer's advice I wore a broad red-white-green ribbon as a sash, and my _coiffure_ was a simple bouquet of white and red roses, to which the green leaves gave the national colour. I never observed before how well these colours blend.

The two officers waited on us _en pleine parade_, and paid us so many compliments, I could not imagine how they learnt them all. I was obliged to laugh, to put off my embarrassment.

"Well, you will see tears will be the end of all this," said mamma; but nevertheless she continued arranging and altering something or other about my dress, that if they did carry me away, they should at least find everything in order.

The officers accompanied us to the ballroom. I was already enjoying the idea of the effect which my national ribbon and our two beaux would produce; and, _entre nous_, I could not give up the hope, that if all the others really had square heads, we should have the only two round ones in the room!

But great was my mistake and surprise.

There was not one of my companions who had not at least twice as much national ribbon on her dress as I had; and as to the officers, our two cavaliers held but the third rank among them.

One was more agreeable, more fascinating, handsomer, livelier than the other; how is it possible that men like these can shed so much blood!

There was one in particular who attracted my attention--not mine alone, but everybody's. He was a young captain--his strikingly handsome face, and tall, graceful figure became the braided attila so well, it seemed to have been moulded on him.

And then his dancing! with what animation he went through the mazur and csardas; one could have rushed through the crowd to embrace him--I do not talk of myself; and, what was more than dancing--more than compliments, a _je ne sais quoi_ in the large, dark, dreamy eyes; you cannot imagine _that_, it is not to be described--it bewildered, inspired, overpowered, and enchanted at the same moment. In less than an hour, every girl in the room was in love with him. I do not except myself. If they are as irresistible on the field of battle, I do not know what could withstand them. Imagine my feelings, when all at once he stepped up to me and requested the honour of the next quadrille!

Unfortunately, I was engaged. What would I not have given at that moment, had a courier entered to call away my dancer.

"Perhaps the next one?" said the captain, seating himself beside me.

I do not know what I said, or whether I replied at all; I only know I felt as I do when flying in a dream.

"But you will forget, perhaps, that you promised me?" he continued.

Had I not suddenly recollected myself, I should probably have told him that sooner could I forget my existence; however, I only replied, in a very indifferent tone, that I should not forget.

"But you do not know me!"

A country simpleton would have answered in my place, "Among a hundred--among thousands! at the first glance!"

Not I! As if I were doing the simplest thing in the world, I took a single rosebud from my breast and gave it to him. "I shall know you by this," I said, without betraying the slightest agitation.

The captain silently pressed the rose to his lips; I did not look, but I _knew_ it. I would not have encountered his eyes at that moment for all the world.

He then left me and sat down under a mirror opposite; he did not dance, and seemed absorbed in his own reflections.

Meanwhile two csardas and a polonaise were danced, after which our quadrille would come. You may conceive how long the time appeared; these eternal "harom a tanczes" seemed absolutely to have no end. I never saw people dance so furiously; and although it was the third night they had not slept, nothing would tire them out. However, I amused myself pretty well by making the acquaintance of the commander of the battalion, Major Sch----, who is a most diverting person.

His name is German; and though he speaks Hungarian shockingly, he will always speak it, even if he is addressed in German or French. Then he is most dreadfully deaf, and accustomed to such loud-toned conversation, one would think the cannons were conversing together.