Part 5 (1/2)
”Perhaps some poor fellow from the village,” said Akosh, caressing the dog.
”The fellow has heard our conversation. I am positive he came to listen!” said Lady Rety, greatly excited, and to the signal annoyance of Mr. Catspaw.
”I cannot think he did,” said Etelka. ”Mr. Catspaw is indeed known to be the worthiest person alive, but I cannot believe that anybody will creep up in the darkness to listen to him, and in October too.”
The attorney frowned. ”My dear Miss,” returned he, ”you do not understand these things. We were discussing matters of great moment--there are several suits now pending----”
”Ah! I understand!” cried Akosh, laughing. ”You mean to say that the counsel for the other side has lurked among the trees to find out the plans of our crafty attorney. But why not arrest the culprit? Gallant Mr. Catspaw, I understand, does not shrink from any odds.”
”I!” said the little man, trembling, ”I should----”
”Of course. Why should you not? Come along with me. If there's any one hidden in these bushes, we will have him out in no time!”
”I really beg your pardon, _domine spectabilis_!” cried Mr. Catspaw, in great distress, while Akosh pulled him along; ”but, _domine spectabilis_, we are quite defenceless, and the night is very dark--and--and--shall I call for help?”
”Nonsense! The fellow will be gone long before anybody can come to a.s.sist us. Come along, dear sir! Let my mother and Etelka go home, while you and I, heroes both, brave all dangers. Let us conquer or die, or run away. Is it not so, most intrepid of fee-taking counsel?”
Mr. Catspaw was by far too much engrossed with fear for his personal safety to care for the jokes of his companion; nevertheless he protested that it might be advisable to send for the servant. But Lady Rety entreated him to accompany Akosh; and, after some further delay (for he wisely thought his best plan would be to give the listener a good start), the little attorney at length b.u.t.toned his coat with great deliberation, and loudly protesting that he had no fear, as far as his own safety was concerned, he followed Akosh into the thicket, while Lady Rety and Etelka directed their steps to the house: the dog, thinking perhaps that one beating was enough for one evening, accompanied them.
Young Rety and his reluctant companion were meanwhile beating the bushes in search of the mysterious stranger. Mr. Catspaw was vastly comforted by the darkness, which his instinct taught him would defeat the plans of any a.s.sa.s.sin who might fire at them; and, besides, if by ill-luck they should fall in with a stranger, he was firmly resolved to run away and call for a.s.sistance. But there was little chance of any unpleasant _rencontre_, for, what with the darkness and the brushwood, and the time which had been lost by Mr. Catspaw's prudent delay, Akosh could not expect to do any thing, except to annoy his mother's man of business.
And annoy him he did, by madly rus.h.i.+ng into the thickest part of the wood, and causing the branches of the trees to strike Mr. Catspaw's face, until at length they arrived at the furthest border of the plantation. Here Akosh stopped, and, turning to Catspaw, who stood breathless by his side, he said, ”I'll take my oath there is no one in the wood; will you now confess that you were mistaken, or frightened by a hare or partridge, or some such formidable animal?”
”It was a sound of human footsteps; Lady Rety is my witness, and I----”
”Of course, if that is the case, let us go back and beat through another part of the plantation, until the fellow is caught.”
”Don't, don't!” sighed Mr. Catspaw. ”I am sure no one is there; goodness knows our search was minute enough. I can scarcely stand on my feet,”
added the little attorney, wiping his forehead.
”Very well, sir, if you are satisfied that n.o.body is hid here, I am so too. But let us cross the ditch; there is some chance of finding him on the other side.” Saying which, Akosh leaped over the ditch, while Mr.
Catspaw descended into the depth of the cutting, from whence a few bold gymnastic evolutions brought him to the other side. Having joined his companion, the two men walked silently on, and disappeared at length round the corner of the garden-wall.
All around was hushed. The night was as dark and comfortless as October nights usually are. The brilliant setting of the sun was followed by a looming and cloudy sky. The wind sighed over the boundless heath, shaking the yellow leaves from the trees. Here and there a solitary star, or the watch-fire on the far pasture-land, threw a faint and melancholy light on the scene. The footsteps of the two men were lost in the distance, and the stillness of night was at intervals interrupted only by the distant barking of a dog, or a shepherd's song floating on the breeze, when a man rose from the ditch close to the place where Akosh and Catspaw had crossed. His broad-brimmed hat, and the rough sheep-skin which hung over his shoulders, were enough to hide his features and stature, even if the night had been clearer. The man listened to the song as it rung through the stilly night, and, after looking cautiously round to satisfy himself that no one was near, he stepped out of the ditch and hastened towards the fire.
But it is time we should return to Tengelyi, whom we left just when, accompanied by his daughter, he crossed the threshold of his humble dwelling.
Reader, did you ever know domestic happiness? did you merely see it in others, or are you among the blessed whose homes are heavens of peace and love? If sacred family love is known to you; if you are convinced that this, the most precious gift of heaven, can only fall to the share of a pure heart; if you feel that all the distinctions, all the glory we struggle for, all the wealth we covet, are an nothing to the joy and love of the domestic hearth; then you will enter the notary's house with a feeling of reverence, and you will pray that happiness and peace may continue to dwell there.
After Tengelyi sat down, he said to his daughter, ”Now tell me the great secret, for you must know,” added he, addressing his wife, ”that Vilma would not allow me to enter the house until I consented to pa.s.s a bill of indemnity in her behalf.'
”I know,” said Mrs. Ershebet; ”and I consented only to please my daughter. Speak, Vilma!”
But Vilma did not speak. She looked vainly for a form of words in which to prefer her suit.
”Am I to be informed of the matter or not?” said Tengelyi, impatiently.
”She cannot have committed a crime!”
”Of course not, dear father. But you promised me not to be angry.”
”To be angry? do I look like a tyrant? Tell me girl, where have you learned to fear your father?”