Part 18 (1/2)
”Do not betray to Blanka any anxiety on my account. If G.o.d be with me, who shall prevail against me?
”Your brother, ”MANa.s.sEH.”
CHAPTER XVI.
A DESPERATE HAZARD.
After finis.h.i.+ng his letter, Mana.s.seh took a number of banknotes out of his pocketbook and put them into his waistcoat pocket, and then softly slipped the pocketbook itself, with his letter, under Aaron's pillow. On Blanka's pure brow, as she lay asleep, he gently pressed a parting kiss, after which he heaped fresh fuel on the fire, stole out of the cave, saddled his horse, and rode away into the darkness.
The signal-fire on Monastery Heights showed him where to find the Wallachian camp. No outposts challenged his progress, and he made his way unmolested to the ruined monastery which sheltered the insurgents.
Fastening his horse to a tree, he turned his steps toward the belfry tower that marked the position of the cloister and the chapel, which, as the only building on the mountain with a whole roof, served the Wallachian leader and his staff as headquarters.
Softly opening the door, Mana.s.seh found himself in a low but s.p.a.cious apartment. Twelve men were seated around a table on which stood a single tallow candle, whose feeble rays could hardly pierce the enveloping clouds of tobacco smoke. The company was engaged in that engrossing pursuit which, as is well known, claimed so much of the officers' time during the campaigns of the period,--they were playing cards.
One chair in the circle was empty. Perhaps its former occupant had gambled away his last kreutzer and left the room. At any rate, the newcomer advanced without hesitation and took the vacant seat. It may be that the players were too absorbed in their game to notice him; or possibly they had so recently come together that they were not yet sufficiently acquainted to detect a stranger's presence; or, again, the feeble light and the clouds of tobacco smoke may have rendered it impossible to distinguish one's neighbours very clearly. Whatever the reason, the stranger's advent elicited no comment. A pocketful of money furnished him all the language he needed to speak, and the cards were dealt to him as a matter of course. Opposite him sat the Wallachian leader.
The game proceeded and the stakes rose higher and higher. One after another the losers dropped out, until at last Mana.s.seh and the Wallachian commander were left pitted against each other, a heap of coins and banknotes between them. Fortune declared for Mana.s.seh, and he swept the acc.u.mulated stakes into his pocket. At this the others looked him more sharply in the face. ”Who is he?” was asked by one and another.
”Why, you are Mana.s.seh Adorjan!” exclaimed the leader at length, in astonishment. ”What do you mean by this rashness?”
The faces around him a.s.sumed threatening looks, and more than one muttered menace fell on his ear; but the hardy intruder betrayed no sign of uneasiness.
”I trust I am among gentlemen,” he remarked, quietly, ”who will not seek a base revenge on a player that has won their money from them.”
The words failed not of their effect. Honour forbade that a hand should be raised against the fortunate winner.
”But, Adorjan,” interposed the leader, in a tone of mingled wonder and vexation, ”how did you come here and what is your purpose?”
”Time enough to talk about that when we have finished playing,” was the careless rejoinder. ”First I must win the rest of your money. So have the goodness to resume your seats.”
The company began to laugh. Clenched fists relaxed, and the men clapped the intruder jovially on the shoulder, as they again took their places around the table.
”Haven't you a spare pipe to lend me?” Mana.s.seh asked his right-hand neighbour.
”Yes, yes, to be sure,” was the ready reply.
Mana.s.seh filled the proffered pipe, drew from his pocket a banknote which he rolled into a lighter, thrust it into the candle-flame, and so kindled his pipe, after which he took up his cards and began to play.
A faint-hearted man, on finding his own and his brothers' lives thus at stake, would have sought to curry favour by allowing his opponents to win. But not so Mana.s.seh. He plundered the company without mercy, as before, and as before he and his _vis-a-vis_ were at last left sole antagonists, while the others rose from their places and gathered in groups about these two. Mana.s.seh still continued to win, and his opponent's supply of money ebbed lower and lower. The loser grew furious, and drank deeply to keep himself in countenance.
”Give me a swallow of your brandy,” said Mana.s.seh, but he had no sooner tasted it than he pushed the bottle disdainfully away. ”Fusel-oil!” he exclaimed, making a wry face. ”To-morrow I will send you a cask of my plum brandy.”
”No, you won't,” returned his antagonist.
”Why not, pray?”
”Because to-morrow you shall hang.”