Chapter 35
"That's the trump for you," said Marton, "that's Moczli. I know Moczli, he's a sharp fellow, without him we should never have found our way here. Well, sir, and whither now?"
This remark was made to Lorand. My brother was acquainted with the jesting old fellow, and had often heard his humorous anecdotes, when he came to see me.
"At all events away from Pressburg, old man."
"But which way? I think the best would be over the bridge, through the park."
"But very many people pa.s.s there. Someone might recognize me."
"Then straight along the Danube, down-stream; by morning you will reach the ferry at Muhlau, where they will ferry you over for two kreuzers.
Have you some change? You must always have that. Men on foot must always pay in copper, or they will be suspected. It's a pity I didn't know sooner, I could have lent you a pa.s.sport. You might have travelled as a baker's a.s.sistant."
"I shall travel as a 'legatus.'[52]"
[Footnote 52: A travelling preacher. A kind of missionary sent out by the "Legatio."]
"That will do finely."
Meantime we reached the end of the street. Lorand wished to bid us farewell.
"Oho!" said Marton, "we shall accompany you to the outskirts of the town; we cannot leave you alone until you are in a secure place, on the high-road. Do you know what? You two go on in advance and I shall remain close behind, pretending to be a little drunk. Patrols are in the street. If I sing loudly they will waste their attention on me, and will not bother you. If necessary, I shall pitch into them, and while they are running me in, you can go on. To you, Master Lorand, I give my stick for the journey. It's a good, honest stick. I have tramped all over Germany with it. Well, G.o.d bless you."
The old fellow squeezed Lorand's hand.
"I have a mind to say something. But I shall say nothing. It is well just as it is,--I shall say nothing. G.o.d bless you, sir."
Therewith the old man dropped back, and began to brawl some yodling air in the street, and to thump the doors with his fists, in accompaniment, like some drunken reveller.
"Hai-dia-do."
Taking each other's hand we hastened on. The streets were already very dark here.
At the end of the town are barracks, before which we had to pa.s.s: the cry of the sentinel sounded in the distance. "Who goes there? Guard out!" and soon behind our backs we heard the squadron
Marton did just as he had said. He pitched into the guard. Soon we heard a dream-disturbing uproar, as he fell into a noisy discussion with the armed authorities.
"I am a citizen! A peaceful, harmless citizen! Fugias Mathias (this to us)! Ten gla.s.ses of beer are not the world! I am a citizen, Fugias Mathias is my name! I will pay for every thing. If I have broken any bottles I will pay for them. Who says I am shouting? I am singing.
'Hai-dia-do;' let any one who doesn't like it try to sing more beautifully himself!"
We were already outside of the town, and still we heard the terrible noise which he made in his self-sacrifice for our sakes.
As we came out into the open, we were both able to breathe more freely; the starry sky is a good shelter.
The cold, too, compelled us to hasten. We had walked a good half-hour among the vineyards, when suddenly something occurred to Lorand.
"How long do you wish to accompany me?"
"Until day breaks. In this darkness I should not dare to return to the town alone."
Now he became anxious for me too. What could he do with me? Should he let me go home alone at midnight through these cl.u.s.ters of houses in that suburb of ill-repute. Or should he take me miles on his way with him? From there I should have to return alone in any case.
At that moment a carriage approached rapidly, and as it pa.s.sed before us, somebody leaped down upon us from the back seat, and laughing came where we were beside the hedge.
In him we recognized old Marton.
"I have found you after all," said the old fellow, smiling. "What a fine time I have had. They really thought I was drunk. I quarrelled with them. That was the 'gaude!' They tugged and pulled, and beat my back with the flat of their sabres: it was something glorious!"
"Well, how did you escape?" I asked, not finding that entertainment to the accompaniment of sabre-blows so glorious.
"When I saw a carriage approaching, I leaped out from their midst and climbed up behind:--nor did they give me a long chase. I soon got away from them."
The good old man was quite content with the fine amus.e.m.e.nt which he had procured for himself.
"But now we must really say adieu, Master Lorand. Don't go the same way as the carriage went: cut across the road here in the hills to the lower road; you can breakfast at the first inn you come to: you will reach it by dawn. Then go in the direction of the sunrise."
We embraced each other. We had to part. And who knew for how long?
Marton was nervous. "Let us go! Let Lorand too hurry on _his_ way."
Why, ten years is a very long way. By that time we should be growing old.
"Love mother in my place. Then remember your word of honor." Lorand whispered these words. Then he kissed me and in a few moments had disappeared from my sight down the lower road among the hills.
Who knew when I should see him again?
Marton's laugh awoke me from my reverie.
"You know--" he inquired with a voice that showed his inclination to laugh--"You know ha! ha--you know why I told Master Lorand not to go in the same direction as the carriage?"
"No."
"Did you not recognize the coachman? It was Moczli."
"Moczli?"
"Do you know who was inside the carriage?--Guess!--Well, it was Madame."
"Balnokhazy's wife?"
"The same--with that certain actor."
"With whose pa.s.sport Lorand was to have eloped?"
"Well if one is on his way to elope--it is all the same:--one must have a companion, if not the one, then the other.'"
It was all a fable to me. But such a mysterious fable that it sent a cold chill all over me.
"But where could they go?"