CHAPTER IX.

"I WASH MY HANDS!"

The Diet, summoned a few weeks before, was still holding its meetings in the open air, with no better shelter than that afforded by a large open tent. Akos Szirmay would be going thither presently, but it was still early, and he was now on his way to his uncle's old mansion near the Danube.

Though Kuthen was rather prisoner now than guest, he was still visited by some of the Hungarian lords, and Bishop Wáncsa was often there with messages from the King, saying how greatly he deplored the necessity for still keeping him prisoner, and explaining that it was from no want of confidence on his part, but rather for the ensurance of Kuthen's own safety, adding that he was hoping and waiting for the time when he might come in person and restore the King and his family to liberty.

Kuthen had loved and honoured Béla from the first, and though in this matter he thought him weak, no one would have been able to persuade him that Béla would consent to anything which would imperil his guest.

Akos had been a daily visitor at the house all along, and he made no secret, either there or at his father's, of his attachment to Kuthen's younger daughter, whose sweet face and winning ways had attracted him from the first.

Stephen Szirmay did not like his son's choice, which was not to be wondered at. Kuthen, it was true, possessed much treasure, and Marána was his favourite child. But Jolánta's marriage had taught him that wealth did not make happiness. Her marriage had had his eager, delighted approval, as he was obliged to admit to himself; and as his judgment had been at fault in the one case, he would not interfere in the other. It would be wiser to remain neutral, lest ill-timed opposition should make his son more determined.

Kuthen was up very early this morning; for news had reached him that many of the Kunok who had remained behind in Moldavia were hastening to Hungary, and being aware also that those already in the country were now on their way to Pest, he was hourly expecting a summons from the King for himself and his sons, and then they would fight, they would fight! and for ever silence the jealous suspicions of their enemies.

Kuthen knew all that was going on about him, for he was well served by his faithful followers, who were more devoted to him than ever since he had been a sort of state prisoner; he knew that the Diet was sitting that day, and that his best friends, the King and Duke Kálmán, would for their own sakes do all they could to bring to an end the present disgraceful state of affairs, which was only likely to increase the slanders and suspicions of which he was the victim.

Kuthen knew also of the Duke of Austria's arrival, of his encounter with the Mongols, and of the prisoner, said to be a Kun, whom he had so unfortunately captured. Kun or not, the populace believed, and were encouraged by the Duke to believe, that he was one. During the last few hours the Duke had done his utmost to foment the growing irritation against the King and his people.

Kuthen knew all, and though he hoped in King Béla, he neglected no precautions to ensure the safety of his family, if the worst should come to the worst. There were already more than a hundred Kunok in the castle, chiefs and simple armed men, who had found means to join him, by degrees, without attracting notice, all of whom were most resolute and most trustworthy. Watch was kept day and night without intermission, and of one thing Kuthen might be entirely confident, that if danger should come, it would not take him by surprise, and that, if the mob should rise against them--as he knew was not impossible--though they might perish, they would at least not perish like cowards.

When Akos arrived on this particular morning, he was closeted alone with the King for a time, and could not deny that things looked threatening, or that the populace and most of the nobles were in a state of irritation, thanks in great measure to the Duke of Austria and his unlucky prisoner. All that he could do was to urge the need of prudence and vigilance.

But before the young noble took his leave, something seemed to strike Kuthen. Whether a new idea flashed into his mind, whether he had a premonition of any kind, or whether he was merely filled with vague forebodings, not unnatural under the circumstances, it is impossible to say, but as Akos was about to make his farewells, Kuthen laid a detaining hand upon his shoulder, and drew him into the adjoining room. There he took his daughter Marána by the hand, and leading her up to Akos, he said solemnly, "Children, man's life and future are in the hands of God! We are living in serious times. See, Akos, I give you my beloved daughter! Happen what may, you will answer to me for this, one of my children."

"You have given me a treasure, you have made me rich indeed! God bless you for it; and, father, have no fears on her account, for we will live and die together," said Akos, with much emotion, his hand in that of his bride.

The Queen's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the handsome young pair, and drawing close to Akos, she whispered in his ear, "Mind, whatever happens to the rest of us, my Marána must be saved."

Just then in came the two young Princes, who were always pleased to see Akos, and were delighted, though not surprised, to hear of their sister's betrothal.

"Oh, but brother Akos," they exclaimed together, as if they thought that the new relationship must at once make a difference, "we should so like to go with you to the Diet, but we are captives, and we have not wings like the eagles."

"And, my dear brothers, even if you had," returned Akos, "I should advise you not to leave your dear father for a moment just now."

"Oh, but why? why?" they both asked.

"Because I think that this is a critical time," he answered. "Let us only get through the next day or two quietly, and I quite believe that you will all be able to go in and out as you please."

"You are right, Akos," interposed the King. "Time may bring us good. Let us wait and be watchful! And don't forget that I have given this dear child into your care. Trust the rest of us to God, in whose hands is our fate; we shall defend ourselves, if need be, but you think only of her. Do you promise me?"

"I swear I will," said Akos, with uplifted hand.

Then he embraced his bride, who accompanied him to the covered entrance, then followed him with her eyes all along the drawbridge, and after that watched him from a window until he was quite out of sight.

Kuthen had already doubled the guards about his dwelling, and had taken other precautions and measures of defence; but the walls were high, and all had been done so quietly that it had not attracted the attention of the sentries posted on the other side of the drawbridge. When Akos was gone, he and his sons armed themselves as if for battle.

Sheaves of arrows were brought out and placed in readiness, the guards were armed, and the Kun chiefs, who took it in turn to be on duty near the King, made all needful preparation for an obstinate defence.

Akos had not been gone more than an hour or two, when little groups and knots of people began to gather round Kuthen's house. There were three or four here, and three or four there, and presently they might be counted by the score. Later on a large crowd had collected. They were talking quietly to one another, and seemed so far to be quite peaceable, however.

The Kun royal family took no alarm, for they knew the Pest populace and its insatiable curiosity well by this time, and they fancied that there was perhaps some idea abroad that Kuthen and his sons would be going to the Diet; or perhaps Marána's betrothal was known.

Another hour passed and the people began to shout and howl. Two persons were declaiming to them; but within the walls it was impossible to distinguish what they were saying. The crowd pressed nearer and nearer to the drawbridge, so near indeed, that the guards on duty there had the greatest difficulty in keeping them back, and a sudden rush of those in the rear sent two or three of the foremost splashing into the moat, to the huge diversion of the rest.

Presently, however, the mob appeared to be seized by a new idea, for they all set off running in one direction; and in a few moments, only a few small knots of people remained.

But these few lay down on the patches of grass round about, as if they meant to stay indefinitely, and the Kun chiefs, who had been keeping close watch behind the loop-holed walls, noticed that they were all armed, some with knotty sticks and wooden clubs bristling with nails, and a few here and there with bows and quivers. It looked as if they meant mischief, and the Kunok were all on the alert for what might happen.

Akos meantime had been for the last hour or two at the Diet. From where he was he had a full view of the Danube, and after a time he noticed a large crowd of people crossing the river by the ferry-boats and making straight for the place where the Diet was being held. Both banks of the Danube were thronged, and soon the crowd became a vast, compact mass; but the first intimation of anything unusual that many of the members had, was the finding the table at which they sat suddenly surrounded by their own gaily caparisoned horses, which the crowd had found blocking their way, and had driven before them into the tent.

It was a terrible moment! No one could imagine what had happened, and some of the more nervous thought that the Tartars, whom they had taken so lightly before, had actually stormed the town. All started to their feet, seized the horses by their bridles, and drew their swords.

And now the howls of the furious mob were plainly to be heard.

"Kuthen! the Kunok! the traitors! Death to the Kunok!"

It was impossible to misunderstand what the mob were bent upon.

This was no peaceable, if clamorous deputation like the former one! these were no faithful subjects rallying round the King in a moment of danger, and seeking his counsel and help!

No! the flood had burst its bounds, carrying all before it, and had come not to petition, but to claim, and to threaten.

The King motioned for silence. He was the calmest and most collected of all present, and such was the magic influence of his presence, such the respect felt for him, that even now, in spite of all the excitement, for a moment the clamour seemed to cease.

Just then one of the nobles, a young man in brilliant armour, with flashing eyes, seized the bridle of the horse nearest him, flung himself on its back, dashed away, and looking neither behind nor before him, forced his way recklessly through the mob. All who noticed him supposed that he had received some command from the King, but the confusion was so great that his departure was unobserved, except by those whose legs were endangered by his horse's hoofs.

"The Kun King is a prisoner," said Béla in a trumpet-like voice, which commanded attention at least for the moment. "No one in my dominions will be condemned unheard. I forbid all violence, and I shall hold the leaders of this insurgent multitude responsible."

So far the King was allowed to speak without interruption, or at least without having his voice drowned. But after this, if he spoke, he could not make himself heard. For no sooner did the magnates and others assembled understand what all the uproar was about, than the King's words lost their effect.

Members from the counties where the Kunok were settled, recalled the many irregularities of which the latter had been guilty on their first arrival, envied them their rich pastures, and joined the mob in crying for vengeance upon them, and in shrieking "Treachery!"

There were but few on the King's side, save the two Archbishops, the two Szirmays, one Foyács, and Héderváry the Palatine.

The mob surged into the tent, howling and threatening.

"If the King won't consent, let us settle it ourselves! The country stands first! The King himself will thank us when his eyes are opened! Let's go! what are we waiting for? There are enough of us!"

Duke Friedrich, who, as being the most powerful and most distinguished guest present, was sitting next the King, turned to him and said in a half whisper: "Your Majesty, this is a case in which you must give in! Nothing is more dangerous than for the people to think they can act against the King's will and go unpunished. No one will defend Kuthen, and who knows what has been going on yonder, or even whether Kuthen is still alive?"

The King maintained a determined silence, but his eyes flashed, and his hand grasped the hilt of his sword.

The tumult increased, and some even of those who believed in the Kunok's innocence, were so alarmed by the rage of the insurgents that they hurried up to the King and implored him to yield. The pressure around him waxed greater and greater.

Duke Kálmán, who was standing not far off, cried out, "Your Majesty won't give in! The honour of the nation is at stake!"

But the noise and confusion were so great that the King could not hear a word his brother said. The Duke shouted for his horse, but it was all in vain, for he could not move.

King Béla, pressed on all sides by those who were beseeching, imploring, urging, forgot himself for a moment. He put his hands over his eyes, then stretching them out, he said, "Lavabo manus meas! (I will wash my hands). You will answer to God for this wickedness. I have done what I could do!"

"The King has consented!" roared those nearest him.

The mob began to sway about, the horses neighed, the people all poured forth, roaring, "Eljen a király! Long live the King! Death to the false traitors! Forward! To Kuthen! to Kuthen!"

No sooner was he free than Duke Kálmán mounted the first horse he could seize, while the mob rushed off like a whirlwind in the direction of the house by the Danube.

When the King looked round none were left but some of the magnates.

"A horse!" he shouted furiously; and he galloped away after the mob, accompanied by the Austrian Duke and the rest.

If Béla had mounted his horse before he addressed the mob, if he had faced the insurgents as a king, and had at once punished the ringleaders, the country might have been spared great part of the disasters which were now on the very threshold. But once again the King was weak at a critical moment. There is much to be said in his excuse and defence; but weakness, however brilliantly defended, remains weakness still.

A few moments after the mob had burst into the King's tent, Akos was again at the drawbridge which led to Kuthen's dwelling.

"What do you want, sir?" asked the captain of the guard hotly, as he sprang forward to meet him. "No one is admitted."

"Since when?" asked Akos haughtily.

"The King sent orders an hour ago."

"Maybe! but I have come straight from the Diet by the King's command, and I am to take Kuthen and all his family before him and the States at once, while you can remain here to guard the place till our return."

The captain turned back submissively, and blew the horn which hung at his side. Possibly the drawbridge which formed the outer gate of the castle would not even now have been lowered, but that Kuthen had recognised Akos, and that they were so well armed as to be quite a match for the guard, and for those of the mob who had remained behind.

The drawbridge was lowered therefore, but raised again the moment Akos had passed. He rode across the covered space between the drawbridge and the inner gate, and there he had to wait again a few moments while the bolts and bars were withdrawn. He leapt from his horse as soon as he was within, and Kuthen and his sons hurried from the entrance-hall to meet him, doubting whether he brought good news or bad.

"Quick!" said Akos, "to horse! your Majesty, to horse! all of you," and without waiting Kuthen's answer, he shouted, "Horses! bring the horses! and mount, all who can!"

The Princes flew at once to the stables, and bridled the horses--which were always kept ready saddled--while Kuthen asked in some surprise, "What has happened? Where are we to go?" for he had not been able to read anything in young Szirmay's face, whether of good or of evil.

"Where?" said Akos bitterly, "where we can be farthest from the mob--the mob has risen and may be here any moment."

In those times, sudden dangers, sudden alarms, sudden flights were things of every-day occurrence, and Kuthen and his followers had long been accustomed not to know in the morning where they should lay their heads at night. No people were quicker or more resolute in case of extremity than the Kunok, who were one family, one army, one colony, and moved like a machine.

The Queen and Princesses, as well as the chiefs, had all come together in the hall, but now the former and many of the servants rushed back into the house, from which they again emerged in a few moments, all cool and collected, all ready to start, and with their most valued possessions packed in bundles.

The riding horses were bridled, some of the pack-horses loaded, and all had been done so quickly and quietly, that the guard without had heard no more than the sort of hum made by a swarm of bees before they take flight.

Meantime Akos had rapidly explained matters to Kuthen, pointing out to him that King Béla and his brother and others were standing up for him, but that there was a rising of the populace, and that the mob might arrive before the King, when, even if they were successfully beaten back, there would certainly be bloodshed, which would only exasperate the people more than ever, and make it impossible for the King, good as he was, to ensure the safety of his guests. Whereas, if they could succeed in avoiding the first paroxysms of fury, King Béla would be the first to rejoice at their escape.

Akos spoke confidently, and his words carried conviction.

Kuthen, his family, and the chiefs were already mounted, while those of the guard who were on foot formed themselves into a close, wedge-shaped mass, and were all ready to set out.

"Lower the drawbridge!" cried Kuthen. The chains rattled, and the gate, which had been closed behind Akos, was reopened. He and Kuthen headed the procession which issued forth.

At that moment a long, yellow cloud of dust made its appearance in the distance, coming towards them. A horseman was galloping in front of it, and he was closely followed by two more, shouting aloud what no one in the castle understood, but something which made the captain of the guard without give orders for the bolts of the drawbridge to be pulled back; and the bridge, left without its supports, dropped with a great plash into the moat.

The Kunok were cut off!

With the sangfroid and fearlessness learnt in the course of his adventurous life, Kuthen at once ordered the drawbridge to be raised; the inner gate was closed again and barred with all speed.

Akos was as pale as death, for he saw in a moment that he had come too late, and that all was lost; but he was resolved to share the fate of the man, whom for Marána's sake he looked upon as his father.

As for Kuthen, he was suddenly the wild chief again. His face was aflame, his eyes flashed fire, he was eager for the fray, and his one thought was to defend himself proudly. He ordered the guards to their places, the horses having been already led back to their stables; and then, turning to his family, he said coolly and calmly, "We will defend ourselves until the King comes, and then his commands shall be obeyed, whatever they are."

The women at once retired to their own quarters, without uttering word or groan. There were no tears, no sobs, no sign of terror on their countenances. They looked angry and defiant.

When the women had withdrawn, the Princes went to their posts, and Kuthen, turning to Akos, said, "Remember your oath."

Akos raised his hands to heaven without a word.

His own position was a more dangerous one than it might seem at first sight. His manifest intention of shielding Kuthen from their vengeance would bring down upon him the hatred of his own countrymen; while on the other hand the furious glances of the Kunok confined in the castle, and their ill-concealed hostility, showed him clearly that his life was now in danger from within as well as from without.

The mob which had rushed away from the Diet had pressed on with the speed of the whirlwind, its numbers growing as it went. A few minutes only had passed since the cloud heralding its approach had been seen, and already the crowd was swarming round the banks of the moat, making an indescribable uproar and uttering the wildest, fiercest shouts.

Within, all was silent as the grave. But the mob outside were not idle for a moment. They were athirst for vengeance, and from the moment of their arrival they had been busy trying to make a passage across the moat by throwing in earth, straw, pieces of wood, even furniture, brought on all sides from the neighbouring houses, and, in fact, all and everything that came to hand.

All at once there was a cry raised of "The King! The King is coming!"

It was not the King, however, but Duke Kálmán, with his servants and some of the nobles in his train.

That part of the moat faced by the gate was by this time almost full, and some of the more daring spirits were trying to clamber up to the drawbridge, when suddenly the scene changed. The wild figures of the Kunok appeared as if by magic upon the walls, the thrilling war-cry was raised, and a cloud of well-aimed arrows hailed down upon the assailants.

Kuthen and his sons, who confidently expected King Béla, had done their utmost to restrain their people, but in vain, for when they saw the moat filled and their enemies preparing to rush the gate, they became infuriated and uncontrollable.

In the first moment of surprise all fell back, knocking over those behind them; but some few began to retaliate and shoot up at the garrison. Not to much purpose, however, for neither arrows nor spears hit the intended marks, while the long arrows shot from the powerful bows of the Kunok never failed.

It was during this fierce overture of the contest that Duke Kálmán rode up.

"Stand aside!" he shouted, "stop fighting! The King is coming, he will see justice done----"

The words were not out of his mouth when two arrows flew forth from loopholes in the walls. One struck the Duke's horse, and the second felled to the earth a young nobleman riding close beside him.

"They have shot the Duke!" was shouted on all sides; for so dense was the cloud of arrows that it was impossible to see at first which of the two had fallen.

The Duke himself, however, was standing coolly defiant amidst the whistling storm.

But the shouts were the signals for a general rush, and from that moment no one, not even the King, could have restrained the people.

The moat was filled, the drawbridge wrecked, the inner gate, in spite of its bars, wrenched from its hinges and thrown down upon the dead bodies of the Kun guards.

The mob rushed in and stormed the castle, and an awful scene of bloodshed followed. Kuthen, his sons, and the Kun chiefs fought desperately; and side by side with them fought Akos, so completely disguised as a Kun as to be quite unrecognisable. He was too downright to have thought of a disguise for himself, but had acquiesced in it at Kuthen's entreaty.

The first of the mob who rushed into the courtyard fell victims to their own rashness, and many more were despatched by the arrows poured from the walls.

But suddenly the younger of the two Princes fighting beside their father, fell to the ground with a short cry.

"My son!" exclaimed Kuthen, turning to Akos, "Go! now's the time! keep your word! I--I'm dying!"

With that, Kuthen, who had been mortally wounded by a couple of pikes, rushed upon his foes, felled several of them by the mere strength of his arm, and then himself sank down. Akos rushed from the entrance-hall into the house.

"You are our King now!" roared the Kunok, pressing round the remaining Prince, and covering him with their shields, as he fought like a young lion.

All at once there were loud outcries and yells. The Kunok outside the house, finding themselves unable to defend the castle against the swarms which poured into the courtyard, had rushed in, closing the doors and barring the windows.

All in vain! The young Prince, just proclaimed King amid a shower of arrows, retreated from one room to another, some of his defenders falling around him at every moment. By the time the last door was burst open, less than a dozen of his guard remained, all wounded, all fighting a life-and-death battle with desperation.

A few moments more and every Kun in the place had ceased to breathe.

Where were the women? What had become of Akos and his bride?

Presently the mob outside received with howls of joy the heads of Kuthen and his family, flung to them from the windows, and at once hoisted them on pikes in token of victory. If the head of Akos was among them no one noticed it, for he had stained his face.

Maddened by their success, the rabble now made with one consent for "King Béla's palace," foremost and most active among them being the Austrian Duke's men-at-arms.

They poured into it like a deluge, and the air was filled with shouts of "Eljen a király! Long live the King! The traitors are dead!"

When they had shouted long enough, they set fire to Master Peter's old mansion, as if it had been the property of King Kuthen, and in less than a quarter of an hour sparks and burning embers were flying from it into the air, while the gaping multitudes ran round and round the dwelling, in all the bloodthirsty delight of satisfied revenge.

A day or two later, the Kun army, which had promptly obeyed orders--more promptly indeed than most even of the more energetic Hungarians--reached the gate of Pest, well mounted and well armed. There first they learnt what had befallen their King and his family.

They came to a halt.

The chiefs took counsel together as to what was to be done, and they were not slow in coming to a decision. For the news had spread into the country that all the Kunok in Pest had been put to death for treachery, and the country, following the example of the city, had also begun to take matters into their own hands by making in some places regular attacks upon the Kun women, children, and old men. The Kunok had not understood the reason of this before.

Now they knew! and with one consent they turned back, gathering all their own people together as they went, and turning against the Hungarians the arms which at Béla's appeal they had been so quick to take up in their defence.

Duke Friedrich stayed no longer, but, content with his little victory over the Mongol chief, content with having helped to capture Kuthen's castle and to murder its inhabitants, he made off home, giving a promise which he did not keep, that he would send an army to Béla's assistance. He had done mischief enough, and left an evil legacy behind him.