"What, then, was it that saved you?"
"A mere chance--no, it was Providence, rather. It was a heart that beat with warm human feeling and a will that was prompt to act. In the midst of their discussion a messenger came from Ciprianu and confirmed the truth of my words."
"From Ciprianu? Then the messenger must have ridden all night."
"Yes, through a trackless wilderness and over rugged mountains."
"I do not see how mortal man could have accomplished it!" exclaimed Aaron, shaking his head.
"It was not a man; it was a woman that effected the impossible. She came to Monastery Heights to attest the truth of my statement by a.s.suring the insurgents that what they took for a signal-fire was merely the result of an accident. The woman who saved us three from death was Zen.o.bia."
At this point Blanka interrupted the conversation of the two brothers.
She laughingly demanded to know what they were so earnestly discussing together.
"We can"t agree on what guests to invite to our wedding," was Mana.s.seh"s ready reply. "Aaron would have only the immediate family, but I am in favour of inviting all our friends. What are your wishes in the matter, my angel?"
"I have no relatives or friends that I can invite to my wedding,"
answered Blanka, gently, "but I shall feel very happy if all your family can be present, even to your youngest brother, whom we met in Kolozsvar.
You must send for him to come home."
"He will be there, dear heart," Aaron a.s.sured her.
"And stay! I have a friend, after all,--a friend that I have made since coming into this country, and should much like to see at my wedding. It is Zen.o.bia, Ciprianu"s daughter."
At sunset they reached the Aranyos River, beyond which lay the longed-for home, the happy valley which, from Mana.s.seh"s description, had so often been the subject of Blanka"s dreams. At last she was to see Toroczko.
CHAPTER XVIII.
TOROCZKO.
It was a new world to Blanka,--that busy mining community, where clouds of black smoke from the tall chimneys of the smelting works and iron foundries met the eye in every direction, and the cheerful hum of toil constantly saluted the ear.
The Adorjan family gave the newcomer a most hearty welcome. With Anna, Mana.s.seh"s twin sister, the girl whom Benjamin Vajdar had so cruelly wronged, Blanka felt already acquainted. They embraced without waiting for an introduction, and when they drew back to scan each other"s faces, they could hardly see for the tears that filled their eyes. Blanka was surprised, and agreeably so. She had prepared herself to see a face stamped with the melancholy of early disappointment, whereas she now beheld a fresh, rosy-cheeked countenance, golden locks, and blue eyes in which no tears had been able to dim the dancing light of a lively and cheerful temperament. Other women there were also in the family,--Rebecca, Berthold"s wife, and Susanna, the helpmate of Barnabas, with a little circle of children around each.
The home-coming of the long-absent brother with his betrothed was celebrated, in accordance with time-honoured custom, with a great dinner that filled the s.p.a.cious family dining-room to its utmost. Blanka could not sufficiently admire the skill and patience with which Susanna directed the feast and ministered to the varied wants and the individual tastes of so many guests. The eldest brother and his family were vegetarians and would touch no meat, but indulged freely in milk and eggs, b.u.t.ter and cheese. With them sat Doctor Vernezs, who was even stricter in his vegetarianism; the sole contribution from the animal kingdom that he allowed in his diet was honey. Brother Aaron sat beside Blanka, and partook freely of a dish of garlic that had been provided especially for him. He offered some to Blanka.
"I can eat this all my life," said he, with a roguish twinkle in his eyes, "but you only eleven weeks longer."
She understood the allusion. In Szeklerland a lover and his sweetheart bear themselves with much decorum and mutual respect throughout the entire period of their engagement. Only after the wedding do they exchange the first kiss.
Anna wished to come to her new friend"s aid at this embarra.s.sing juncture. "It won"t be so long as that, Aaron!" she exclaimed.
"Let us reckon it up, my little turtledove," returned the brother.
"To-morrow we will tell the parson that our sister Blanka wishes to join our communion. The law requires her to wait two weeks after this first announcement and then to go and declare her purpose a second time. After that follow six weeks for the divorce proceedings. That makes eight weeks. Then the banns have to be published three successive Sundays, and so we make out the eleven weeks, as I said. For seventy-seven days and nights, then, our peach-blossom will be your companion, sister Anna."
Anna and Blanka embraced each other with much affection. The latter showed no embarra.s.sment at Aaron"s plain speech.
"I will add five days to the seventy-seven," said she, with a smile.
"How so?" asked the brother and sister.
"Because I shall not go to the parson to-morrow, but shall wait until after Sunday. I am going to your church on that day, and till then I can"t tell whether I wish to belong to it or not."
This prudent resolve met with Aaron"s hearty approbation.
It was not long before Anna and Blanka became the warmest of friends.
They shared the same room together, and the newcomer was allowed to look over all her companion"s books, drawings,--for she, like her twin brother, was an artist,--keepsakes, and treasures of every sort. One day she came upon something that made her start back as if stung by an adder. It was a little portrait in an oval frame, a man"s face, highly idealised by the artist, and yet strikingly true to life. Evidently the hand of love had depicted those lineaments. The eyes were bright, the lips wore a proud smile, the whole expression was one to charm the beholder. It was Benjamin Vajdar"s likeness, and no ghost could have given Blanka a greater start. It was as if her most hated foe had pursued her into paradise itself, to spoil her pleasure there.
Anna noticed her friend"s involuntary movement, and she sighed deeply.
"Did Mana.s.seh tell you about him?" she asked.
"I know him well," replied Blanka, and she could not control an accent of abhorrence in her voice as she spoke.
Anna clasped her companion"s hand in both her own. "I beg you," she entreated, in tones at once sad and tender, "if you know aught ill of him, do not tell it me."
"You still love him?" asked the other, in compa.s.sion.
The young girl sank down on the edge of her bed and hid her face in her hands. "He has killed me," she sobbed; "he has done much that a man, an honourable man, ought not to do; and yet I cannot hate him. We may say, "I loved you yesterday, to-morrow I shall hate you," and we may act as if we meant it; but we cannot really _feel_ it."
"My poor Anna!" was all Blanka could say.
"I know he is dishonourable," admitted the girl; "there are women here that report everything to me, thinking thus to cure me. But what does it avail? A sick person is not to be made well with words. How many a woman has waited for the return of an absent lover who may perhaps have gone around the world, or to the north pole, and who yet cannot get beyond the reach of her love and yearning!"
"If it were only the earth"s diameter that lay between you!" murmured Blanka.
"True," replied Anna, resting her head on her hand; "the wide world is not so effective a barrier as a bewitching face that has once thrust itself between two loving hearts. That is harder to circ.u.mnavigate than the earth itself."
"If a pretty face were all that stood between you----" began the other once more, sitting down beside her friend and putting her arms about her.
"Yes, yes, I know," the poor girl interrupted; "the whole world and heaven and h.e.l.l stand between us. All the laws of honour, of faith, and of patriotism, tear us asunder. I cannot go to him where he is, but yet it may be that he will come back to me--some day."
"Do you think so?"
"I believe it as I believe in one G.o.d above us. Not that I think we could now ever be happy together; but I am convinced that the road which he took on going away from here will some day bring him back again to our door. Broken and humbled, scorned and repulsed by all the world, he will then seek the one remaining asylum that stands open to him, and he will find one heart that still beats for him from whom all others have turned away."
The speaker rose from her seat and stood erect, her face all aglow with n.o.ble emotion. Was it an angel in love with a devil?
"See!" she continued, pointing to the little portrait, which was encircled by a wreath of immortelles, "this picture here in my room gives daily proof how lasting a thing love is in our family. My brothers all hate him with a deadly hatred, and yet they spare his likeness because they know that I still love him; they leave the little picture hanging in my room, nor offer to offend me by proposing another marriage for me. They know how deep is my love, and they respect my feelings. Oh, I beg you, if you have reason to hate this man, yet suffer his portrait to keep its place, and turn your eyes away from it if it causes you offence."
But Blanka hated the man no longer.