Chapter 38

and your theft of his property. My third letter is directed to Frau von Levetinczy at Komorn. I tell her what you did to her father, and how you came into possession of her mother's picture and the other treasures you presented to her. But I have told her something else besides--the place you go to when you are not at home--the secret joys of the ownerless island--the intrigue with another woman--the deceit you practice on her. I tell her about Noémi and little Dodi. Now shall I drive another thorn under your nails?"

Timar's breast heaved with heavy panting sobs.

"Well, as you say nothing, we will proceed," said the cruel torturer. "The fourth letter is to Noémi. I tell her in it all she does not yet know: that you have a lawful wife out in the world--that you are a gentleman who has dishonored her, and can never be her husband; who only sacrificed her to his base lusts, and who is a murderer besides. What! you don't ask for mercy yet? Do you see those two towers? That is Tihany; there live pious monks, for it is a monastery; there I shall deposit the four letters, and beg the prior, if I do not return within a week, to forward them to their addresses. It would be no use for you to put me out of the way, for the letters would still reach their destination, and then you could not stay any longer in this country. You can not go home; for even if your wife forgave you her father's death, she would never forgive you Noémi. Justice would make inquiries, and then you would have to let out how you came by your riches.

"The Turkish Government would bring you to trial, and the Austrian too. The whole world would soon learn to know you, and those who looked on you as a man of gold, would see in you the very scum of humanity. You could not even take refuge in the ownerless island, for there Noémi would shut the door against you; she is a proud woman, and her love would turn to hatred. No, there is nothing left to you but to fly from the world, like me; change your name, like me; slink secretly from town to town, and tremble when steps approach your door, like me. Now, shall I go or stay?"

"Stay!" groaned the sufferer.

"Oho! you give in!" cried the rascal; "then let us sit down again. First, will you give me the ownerless island?"

A feeble subterfuge occurred to Timar's heart, which he used to gain time. "But the island belongs to Noémi, not to me."

"A very true observation; but my request is not altered by that fact. The island belongs to Noémi, but Noémi belongs to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Timar, wildly.

"Now don't roll your eyes; don't you know you are fast bound? Let us take it all as it comes. The thing can be arranged. You write a letter to Noémi, which I will carry; meanwhile that fierce black brute will have died, and I can land safely. In the letter you will take leave of her; you will say that you cannot marry her, because unavoidable family complications stand in the way; that you have a wife, the beautiful Timéa, whom Noémi will remember: you will write that you have taken care to provide for her suitably; that you have recalled her former betrothed from the New World, who is a fine handsome fellow, and ready to marry her and shut his eyes to the past. You will promise to provide for them both handsomely in the future, and give them your blessing and good wishes for a happy life together!"

"You want Noémi too?"

"Why, what the devil! Do you think I want your stupid island in order to live there like Robinson Crusoe? I shall want something to sweeten my life in that desert. Over there I have reveled in a surfeit of embraces from black-eyed, sable-tressed women; now, after seeing Noémi's golden locks and blue eyes, I am quite mad about her. And then she struck me in the face, and drove me away; I must have payment for that. Is there a nobler revenge than to give a kiss for a blow? I will be the master of the refractory witch; that is my fancy. And by what right do you deny her to me? Am I not Noémi's betrothed, who would make her my legal wife and bring her to honor, while you can never marry her, and can only make her unhappy?"

The man drops boiling oil on Timar's heart: he wrung his hands in agony.

"Will you write to Noémi, or shall I take these four letters over to the cloister?"

In Timar's torture the words escaped him, "Oh, my little Dodi!"

The fugitive laughed with a knavish grin. "I'll be his father, a very good sort of father--"

At that instant Michael sprung from his seat, threw himself with a leap like a jaguar's on the convict, seized him by both arms before he could use his weapon, dragged him forward, gave him a blow in the back and a shove which sent him flying through the open door on to the landing, tumbling over and over: there he got up with difficulty, still giddy with his fall, stumbled over the first step, and limped groaning and swearing down the stairs. All below was darkness and silence. The only man besides these two in this winter castle was deaf, and sleeping off a carouse.