Part 43 (2/2)

Good Michael Apafi believed that they were aiming at the princely coronet. This was a crime he was ready to believe in at a single word, and he urged the counsellors who had ordered the arrest at once to put the law into execution against the arrestants. But that is what these gentlemen took very good care not to do. It was much easier to kill the arrestants outright than to find a law which would meet their case.

In those days worthy Master Cserei was the commandant of the fortress of Fogaras, and the castle in which the arrestants were lodged was the property of the Princess. As soon as Anna heard of the arrest she summoned Cserei, and showing him the signet-ring on her finger, said to him: ”Look at that ring, and whatever death-warrant reaches you, if it bears not the impression of that seal, you will take care not to execute the prisoners; the castle is mine, so you have to obey my orders rather than the orders of the Prince.”

The Prince and his wife then returned together to Fejervar. On the day after their arrival the chief men of the realm met together in council at the Prince's palace, and it was Teleki's idea that only those should remain to dinner who were of the same views as himself. So they all remained at the Prince's till late in the evening, and thoroughly enjoyed the merry jests of the court buffoon, Gregory Biro, who knew no end of delightful tricks, and swallowed spoons and forks so dextrously that n.o.body could make out what had become of them.

Apafi had not noticed how much he had drunk, for every time he had filled his beaker from the flagon standing beside him, the flagon itself had been replenished, so that he fancied he had drunk nothing from sheer forgetfulness. But his face had got more inflamed and bloodshot than usual, and suddenly perceiving that the chair next to his was empty, he exclaimed furiously: ”Who else has bolted? It is Denis Banfy who has bolted now, I know it is. What has become of Denis Banfy, I say?”

The gentlemen were all silent; only Teleki was able to reply:

”Denis Banfy is dead.”

”Dead?” inquired Apafi, ”how did he die?”

”Paul Beldi formed a league against him and he was beheaded.”

”Beldi?” cried Apafi, rising from his seat in blind rage, ”and where is that man?”

”He is in a dungeon at present, but it will not be long before he sits on the throne of the Prince.”

”On the scaffold, you mean!” thundered Apafi, beside himself, in a bloodthirsty voice, ”on the scaffold, not the throne. I'll show that crafty Szekler who I am if he raises his head against me. Call hither the protonotarius, the law must be enforced.”

”The sentences are now ready, sir,” said Nalaczi, drawing from his pocket three doc.u.ments of equal size; ”only your signature is required.”

He was also speedily provided with ink and a pen, which they thrust into the trembling hand of the Prince, indicating to him at the same time the place on the doc.u.ment where he was to sign his name. The thing was done.

”Is there any stranger among us?” asked Teleki, looking suspiciously around.

”Only the fool, but he doesn't count.”

The fool at that moment was making a sword dance on the tip of his nose, and on the sword he had put a plate, and he kept calling on the gentlemen to look at him--he certainly had paid no attention to what was going on at the table.

The three letters were three several commands. The first was directed to Cserei, telling him to put the prisoners to death at once; the second was to the provost-marshal, Zsigmond Boer, to the effect that if Cserei showed any signs of hesitation he was to be killed together with the gentlemen; the third was to the garrison of the fortress, impressing upon them in case of any hesitation on the part of the provost to make an end of him forthwith along with the others. All three letters, sealed with yellow wax, were handed over to Stephen Nalaczi, who, placing them in his kalpag, pressed his kalpag down upon his head and hastened quickly from the room. He had to pa.s.s close to the jester on his way out, and the fool, rus.h.i.+ng upon him, exclaimed. ”O ho! you have got on my kalpag; off with it, this is yours!” and before Nalaczi had recovered from his surprise he found a cap and bells on his head instead of a kalpag.

The magnate considered this jest highly indecent, and seized the jester by the throat.

”You scoundrel, you, where have you put my kalpag? Speak, or I'll throttle you.”

”Don't throttle me, sir,” said the jester apologetically, ”for then you would be the biggest fool at the court of the Prince.”

”My kalpag!” cried Nalaczi furiously, ”where have you put it?”

”I have swallowed it, sir.”

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