Part 40 (1/2)
”Oh, you are proud of your red boots!” sneered the rider, looking down at Lorand's bare-feet.
”It's easy for you to say so,” was Lorand's sharp reply; ”sitting on that hack.”
But ”hack” means a kind of four-footed animal which this rider found no pleasure in hearing mentioned.[54]
[Footnote 54: The Magyar word has a double meaning; besides a horse it means a peculiar whipping-bench with which gypsies used to be particularly well acquainted.]
”My own training,” he said proudly, as if in self-defence against this cutting remark.
”I know. I knew that even in my scapegrace days.”
”Well, and where are you hobbling to now, student?”
”I am going to Csege, gypsy, to preach.”
”What do you get from the 'legatio' for that, student?”
”Twenty silver florins, gypsy.”
”Do you know what, student? I have an idea--don't go just yet to Csege, but turn aside here to the shepherd's where you see that fold. Wait there for me till to-morrow, when I shall come back, and preach your sermon to me: I have never yet heard anything of the kind, and I'll give you forty florins for it.”
”Oh no, gypsy; do you turn aside to yonder fold. Don't go just now to the farm, but wait a week for me; when I shall come back; then you can fiddle my favorite tune, and I'll give you ten florins for it.”
”I am no musician,” replied the horseman, extending his chest.
”What's that rural fife doing at your side?” The gypsy roared at the idea of calling his musket a ”rural fife!” Many had paid dearly so as not to hear its notes!
”You student, you are a deuce of a fellow. Take a draught from my 'noggin.'”
”No, thanks, gypsy; it isn't spiritual enough to go with my sermon.”[55]
[Footnote 55: Lorand really quoted a sentence from a popular ditty, but it is impossible in such cases to do proper justice to the original.
The whole pa.s.sage between Lorand and the gypsy is full of allusions intelligible only to Hungarians, _in Hungarian_, a proper rendering of which, in my opinion, baffles all attempts. Of course the force of the original is lost, but it is unavoidable.]
The gypsy laughed still more loudly.
”Well, good night, student.”
He drove his spurs into his horse and galloped on along the high-road.
Then the evening drew in quietly. Lorand reached a gra.s.sy mound, shaded by juniper bushes. This spot he chose for his night-camp in preference to the wine-reeking, stenching rooms of the way-side inns. Putting on his boots, he drew from his wallet some bread and bacon, and commenced eating. He found it good: he was hungry and young.
Scarcely had he finished his repast when, along the same road on which the horseman had come, rapidly approached a five-in-hand. The three leaders were supplied with bells and their approach could be heard from afar off.
Lorand called out to the coachman,
”Stop a moment, fellow-countryman.”
The coachman pulled up his horses.