Part 39 (1/2)

”Because they locked us out at six o'clock in the evening, and would not let us in.”

”Why was that?”

”They say that at dawn of day someone in the fortress is to be executed.”

”Who is it?” said the youth, visibly affected.

”Why, the Princess of Moldavia, of course.”

”Oh, that cannot be in any case,” exclaimed the leader of the Spahis. ”I have just come from the Sultan, and I have brought with me his firman, in which he summons her to Stambul; not a hair of her head is to be crumpled.”

”Then it will be just as well, sir, if you try to get into the fortress, for it may be you have come with the sermon after the festival is over, and that letter may remain in your pocket if once they cut off her head.”

The youth seemed for a moment to be reflecting, then, turning to those who stood around, he said:

”Through which gate do they admit the soldiers on guard?”

”Through the s...o...b..t gate.”

The youth immediately turned his horse's head, and beckoned to his comrades to follow him.

But at the first words he had uttered, a figure enwrapped in a mantle had emerged from a corner of the gate, and when he began to talk about the Princess and the firman, this figure, with great adroitness, had crept quite close to him, and when he turned round had swiftly followed him till, having made its way through the throng, it overtook him, and, placing its hand on the horseman's knee, said in a low voice: ”Tokoly!”

”Hus.h.!.+” hissed the horseman, with an involuntary start, and bending his head so that he might look into the face of his interlocutor, whereupon his wonder was mingled with terror, and throwing himself back in his saddle, he exclaimed: ”Prince! can it be you?”

For Prince Ghyka stood before him.

”Could I be anywhere else when they want to kill my wife?” he said mournfully.

”Do not be cast down, there will be plenty of time till to-morrow morning. I have plenty of confidence in my good star. When I really wish for a thing I generally get it even if the Devil stand in the opposite camp against me, and never have I wished for anything so much as to save Mariska.”

The Prince, with tears in his eyes, pressed the hand of the youth, and did not take it at all amiss of him that he called his wife Mariska.

”Well, of course, you have brought the firman with you, and if you come with the suite of the Sultan----”

”Firman, my friend? I have not brought a bit of a firman with me, and those who are with me are my good kinsfolk in Turkish costumes, worthy Magyar chums everyone of them, who have agreed to help me through with whatsoever I take it into my head to set about; but I have got something about me which can make firmans and athnames, and whatever else I may require, whether it be the key of a dungeon, or a marshal's baton, or a prince's sceptre--a golden knapsack, I mean.”

”And what are you going to get with that?”

”Everything. I will corrupt the sentinels so that they will let me into the fortress; and once let me get in, and I'll either make Ha.s.san Pasha sell Olaj Beg, or Olaj Beg sell Ha.s.san Pasha. If a good word be of no avail I will use threats, and if my whole scheme falls through, Heaven only knows what I won't do. I'll chop Ha.s.san Pasha and his guards into a dozen pieces, or I'll set the castle on fire, or I'll blow up the powder magazine--in a word, I won't desist till I have brought out your consort.”

”How can I thank you for your n.o.ble enthusiasm?”

”You mustn't thank me, my friend; you must thank Flora Teleki, who is your wife's friend, and expects this of me.”

”Then you are re-engaged?”

”No, my friend. Helen is my bride. Ah, that is the only real woman in the whole round world. I should be with her now if I were not engaged in this business, and as soon as I have finished with it, the pair of us will give you a wedding the like of which has never yet been seen in Hungary.”

The Prince sadly bowed his head. He means well, he thought, but there is a very poor chance of his succeeding. The mercurial youth seems to have no idea that within an hour he will be jeopardizing his head by engaging in a foolhardy enterprise which runs counter to the whole policy of the Turkish Empire. But Tokoly's mind never impeded his heart. His motto always was: ”_Virtus nescia freni_.”