Part 25 (1/2)

With a second, with a third rock also he greeted them. The cava.s.ses, at their wits' end, fled back, and never stopped till they had clambered up the opposite ridge; they did not feel safe among the plunging rocks below and there they could be seen deliberating how it was possible to reach the road behind their backs.

Guessing their intention, the Prince sent his servant to fling a rock down upon them from the hillside beyond, which, as it came clattering down, made the cava.s.ses believe that their enemies were in force, and they climbed higher up still.

”There they will remain till evening,” thought the Prince to himself; ”so they will not overtake Mariska after all.”

And so it conveniently turned out. The cava.s.ses, after consulting together for a long time fruitlessly as to what road they should take to get out of the dangerous pa.s.s, began to yell from their lofty perch at their invisible foes, threatening them with the highest displeasure of the Sultan if they did not allow them to pa.s.s through in peace; and when a fresh shower of rocks came down by way of reply, they unsaddled their horses and allowing them to graze about at will, lit a fire and squatted down beside it.

Meanwhile, the hunted lady, exchanging her tired horses for four fresh ones in the first Transylvanian village she came to, pressed onwards without stopping. Travelling all night she reached Szamosujvar in the early morning. The Prince was no longer there. He had migrated in hot haste, they said, before the rising of the sun, to Klausenberg.

Mariska did not descend from her carriage, but only changed her horses.

Three days and three nights she had already been travelling, without rest, in sickness and despair. And again she must hasten on farther. It was evening when they reached Klausenberg. The coachman, when he saw the towers in the distance, turned round to her with the comforting a.s.surance that they would now be at Klausenberg very shortly. At these words the lady begged the coachman not to go so quickly, and when he lashed up his horses still more vigorously notwithstanding, and cast a look behind him, she also looked through the window at the back of the carriage and saw a band of hors.e.m.e.n galloping after them along the road.

So their pursuers were as near to them behind as Klausenberg was in front.

There was not a moment's delay. The coachman whipped up the horses, their nostrils steamed, foam fell from their lips, they plunged wildly forward, the pebbles flashed sparks beneath their hoofs, the carriage swayed to and fro on the uneven road, the persecuted lady huddled herself into a corner of the carriage, and prayed to G.o.d for deliverance.

CHAPTER XIV.

OLAJ BEG.

The Prince was just then standing in the portico of his palace conversing with the Princess, whose face bore strong marks of the sufferings of the last few days. Shortly after the panic of Nagyenyed she had given birth to a little daughter, and the terror experienced at the time had had a bad effect on both mother and child.

Apafi's brow was also clouded. The Prince's heart was sore, and not merely on his own account. Whenever there was any distress in the princ.i.p.ality he also was distressed, but his own sorrow he had to share alone.

For some days he had found no comfort in whatever direction he might turn. The Turks had made him feel their tyranny everywhere, and the foreign courts had listened to his tale of distress with selfish indifference; while the great men of the realm dubbed him a tyrant, the common folks sung lampoons upon his cowardice beneath his very windows; and when he took refuge in the bosom of his family he was met by a sick wife, who had ceased to find any joy in life ever since he had been made Prince.

A sick wife is omnipotent as regards her husband. If Anna had insisted upon _her_ husband's quitting his princely palace, and returning with her to their quiet country house at Ebesfalu--where there was no kingdom but the kingdom of Heaven--perhaps he would even have done that for her.

As the princely pair stood on the castle battlements, the din of the town grew deeper, and suddenly the rumble of a carriage, driven at full tilt, broke upon the dreamy stillness of the castle courtyard, and das.h.i.+ng into it stopped before the staircase; the door of the coach was quickly thrown open and out of it rushed a pale woman, who, rallying her last remaining strength, ran up the staircase and collapsed at the feet of the Prince as he hastened to meet her, exclaiming as she did so:

”I am Mariska St.u.r.dza.”

”For the love of G.o.d,” cried the agitated Prince, ”why did you come here? You have destroyed the state and me; you have brought ruin on yourself and on us.”

The unfortunate lady was unable to utter another word. Her energy was exhausted. She lay there on the marble floor, half unconscious.

The Princess Apafi summoned her ladies-in-waiting, who, at her command, hastened to raise the lady in their arms and began to sprinkle her face with eau-de-Cologne.

”I cannot allow her to be brought into my house,” cried the terrified Apafi; ”it would bring utter destruction on me and my family.”

The Princess cast a look full of dignity upon her husband.

”What do you mean? Would you hand this unfortunate woman over to her pursuers? In her present condition, too? Suppose _I_ was obliged to fly in a similar plight, would you fling _me_ out upon the high road instead of offering me a place of refuge?”

”But the wrath of the Sultan?”

”Yes; and the contempt of posterity?”