"We are taking counsel," answered Teleki, firmly.
"You are taking counsel?" asked Anna, approaching nearer to the table.
"At the same time we would put to your Grace the question, who gave you the right to disturb us when we are making decisions about the most important affairs of the country?" continued Teleki, in a hard tone of voice.
"You are making decisions about the most important affairs of the country," replied Madame Apafi, slowly repeating Teleki"s words, while she looked at him sharply; then suddenly she broke out in a resonant voice,--"and that over your wine cups! You consult about the fate of the country while the man at its head is intoxicated, so that you may bring all to confusion."
Teleki sprang from his seat and turned to the Prince.
"May it please your Majesty to dismiss us? Evidently a domestic scene is in progress."
"Anna," cried Apafi, red with shame and the glow of the wine, "leave this hall this instant. It is our order and from this day on for a week do not appear again before our eyes."
"Very well, Apafi. I have nothing more to say to you for you are not in your senses. But to you, my Lord High Counsellor, who are always sober, I have a word to say:--I raised you from the dust; I helped you to your present position; in grat.i.tude for this you have forced yourself between my heart and the Prince"s so that whenever I would approach my husband I find you in my path. You have taken the sceptre out of the Prince"s hand and in its stead you have forced into his hand the headsman"s sword, so that he begins to rule by that. Now let me tell you that if I am not allowed to get to the Prince"s heart yet I will stand in the way of the headsman"s sword. Whenever it is to fall I shall be found between the blow and the victim; and you two choice menials,--barons--you Szekeli and you Nalaczy who cannot yourselves tell now how you so suddenly became great lords, remember that the wheel goes down as often as up and that the judgment which to-day you pa.s.s against others by to-morrow may be carried out against yourselves. And the rest of you intriguing lords, who get courage for your timid hearts out of the wine cups, remember, and shudder at the thought, that in the b.u.mpers in your hands not wine, but the blood of the innocent, foams. Shame on you all, that you give your Prince wine that you may demand of him blood! And now, your Highness, add two weeks more to my term of exile."
With these words the Princess quickly left the hall. The lords were silent and dared not look at each other. Teleki rose, closed the door, dipped his quill and said:
"Let us continue from where we left off."
CHAPTER XVII
DEATH FOR A KISS
Paul Beldi took the direct route from Karlsburg to Bodola. All the way he was tormented by the thought which Teleki"s words had called up again. In itself a kiss is a very innocent matter but if another knows of it, has noticed it?--if this should be only one pole of the world of distrust about which the soul revolves bringing up now this, now that, which might have happened before and after,--and then too another knows of it?--The husband thought that a kiss n.o.body knew about caused no defect in his wife"s virtue--but now it lived on the lips of others; perhaps still more; perhaps the world was dragging his honor in the dust while he supposed it well guarded, and the first sound of the derision to him so deadly had just reached his ear, and that too from his most hated foe. . . .
Night interrupted his thoughts. The horses were tired out, Beldi had given them no rest, had had no fresh relays,--only on and on. He wished to get home as quickly as possible--to have under his eyes that wife who had cost him such disgrace--who knows how much!-- But is it sufficient satisfaction to see a woman weep or die when a man still lives on whom he might take revenge?--a man too who had been his enemy from the time when they had both served as pages of Gabriel Bethlen and who now sought out the most sensitive spot in his heart to tear it with his ruthless hand.
"Turn about!" he shouted to the driver. "Take the road to Klausenburg."
The old servant shook his head, turned into a side road and soon lost the road so completely in this wandering by night that he was at last obliged to confess to his master that he did not know himself where they were. Beldi trembled with inward emotion. Looking about him he saw not far off a light, and quite out of temper he bade the coachman drive toward it. They drove into the courtyard of a lonely country house. The barking of the great house-dog brought out the master, in whom Beldi recognized old Adam Gyergyai one of his dearest friends who, as he recognized Beldi, hurried forward to embrace him, beside himself with joy.
"Good-evening, my dear friend," said the good old man, covering his guest with kisses:--"I do not ask what good fortune has brought you to me."
"To tell the truth, I have lost my way. I was on my way to Klausenburg. I shall go on this very night, and with your permission leave my horses here to rest."
"What have you to do there that is so pressing?"
"I must carry some news," said Beldi, evasively.
"If that is all, why need you hasten so? You can certainly trust it to a letter and one of my servants on horse shall carry it at once to the place while you stay here."
"You are right," said Beldi, after some consideration;--"it will be better for me to manage the matter by letter." So he asked for writing materials, sat down and wrote Banfy. Writing usually brings a certain soberness to one"s thoughts, so this letter was in quite a moderate tone. He informed Banfy that he summoned him to Szamos-Ujvar to adjust an affair of honor. With that Beldi sealed the letter and intrusted it to Gyergyai with the request that he be so kind as to send it.
"So you are writing to Banfy, my good friend," said the old man, looking at the address of the letter. "You could have talked with him a little while ago. What have you two to arrange with each other that is so urgent?"
"You remember, my friend," replied Beldi, "that you saw me once in the lists with Banfy, at the time of the tournament when George Rakoczi was the master?"
"Oh yes, you had overcome all other contestants but could do nothing against each other."
"On that occasion you said that you would like to see which one of us would carry off the victory in a real engagement."
"Yes, I remember that too."
"Now you shall see."
Gyergyai looked Beldi in the eye.
"My friend, I do not know what this letter contains but from your expression I infer your thought. I have heard my father say that a man should not send off the same day a letter written under excitement, but should lay it under his pillow and sleep on it. The advice is not bad. Do not send your letter off before morning; in fact I will not send it to-night."
Beldi complied with the old man"s advice. He put the letter under his pillow, lay down, fell asleep and dreamed. In his dream he was happy with his wife and children. The noise of a wagon pa.s.sing by in the morning awakened him. The first thing that his hand touched was his letter to Banfy. He broke it open, read it through again, and--was very much ashamed that he had written anything of the kind.
"Where was your understanding, Beldi?" he asked himself with a smile, tore the letter in two and threw it into the fire. "How they would have laughed at you!" he thought. "They would have said you were an old fool to whom it had occurred late in life to be jealous of the mother of his children on account of a kiss given by a man in his cups and received against the lady"s will." What a weapon he would have given Banfy if he had announced that he was not sure of his wife on Banfy"s account. "We will go straight to Bodola," he said gently to his servant when he entered, and then he took leave of his host.
"And what about the letter you were going to send?" asked Gyergyai with concern.
"I have already conveyed it--to the flames!" replied Beldi, smiling, and went on his way with his feelings quite changed. As he approached Bodola he noticed from a distance the members of his family who had been watching for him from the castle balcony; as soon as they recognized his carriage they hurried down to meet him. When he reached the foot of the castle hill there they all were,--his wife and children; they threw themselves on his neck with cries of joy and he kissed each one several times over, but especially his dear devoted wife on whom he feasted his eyes. It seemed to him that her eyes were brighter, her face more charming, her lips sweeter than ever. "What fools men are!" thought Beldi. "When they do not see their wives they are ready to believe everything bad of them, and when they do see them they forget it all."
He was so abandoned to his joy that he did not observe that there was a stranger in the family circle, but the stranger made haste to attract his attention. He was Feriz Bey, a handsome, well-built young Turk, with frank, n.o.ble features resembling a Hungarian"s.
"You do not notice me, or perhaps you do not remember me," said the youth, stepping up to Beldi.
Beldi glanced at him and thought he recognized him, but did not venture to call him by name until his younger daughter Aranka hanging on her father"s arm said with a childlike laugh:
"Have you forgotten Feriz Bey? I knew him at once."
Beldi extended his hand to the youth with a cordial greeting.
"My father sends me to you with an urgent message and had you not come I should have ridden after you. When your family rejoicing is over call me, for my mission admits of no delay."
Beldi was surprised at the serious tone of the youth, and as soon as he reached the castle called him aside to a private room. Then the young Bey gave him a roll fastened with a yellow seal and tied with cords. Beldi broke it open and read as follows:
"May heaven protect and defend you and your family.
Transylvania is in peril; the Grand Seignior is aroused by the conflict between Dionysius Banfy and the Pasha of Nagy Varad. It is reported that this n.o.bleman is in correspondence with the Roman emperor.
See to it that the country bridles Banfy; you have still force sufficient. The Sultan has sworn that if the Prince should not prove a match for him and know how to command he will drive them both out of the country and intrust the control of Transylvania to a pasha. The pashas of Nagy Varad and Temesvar, the princes on the frontier and Tartar Khan have received orders to hold themselves in readiness to make their way into Transylvania from all sides at the first signal. Keep that n.o.ble lord under check for death hangs over your heads by a mere thread.
"Your good friend, "KUTSCHUK PASHA."
Beldi"s face grew dark as he read these lines. So then it was in vain for him to put Banfy"s name out of his mind; this letter called it up again and in an aspect still more hateful. He folded the letter, and in a few words gave the serious youth a reply for his father.
"Inform your father that our action shall antic.i.p.ate the threatened evil. I send my thanks for the warning."
With this reply Feriz Bey left the castle. Beldi remained alone in his room; deep in thought he paced back and forth, and racked his brain to find out some way to meet the peril, but he saw none. It was not to be expected that a man of Banfy"s pride would make any concessions to the Pasha, especially after his victory and in a just cause. And yet the justice of the cause must give way to the welfare of the country.
Deep in these and similar thoughts he did not notice that some one was knocking at his door. When no answer was made to the thrice-repeated knock the door opened and Beldi, rousing himself from his meditation, saw Michael Teleki. Beldi was at first so bewildered that his speech forsook him. "You seem surprised at my coming," said Teleki, noticing Beldi"s astonishment. "You are amazed that I should have followed you such a distance after an absence of barely twenty-four hours. Great changes have taken place. Transylvania is threatened by a peril which must be prevented at once."
"I know it," replied Beldi, and let Teleki read Kutschuk Pasha"s letter with the exception of the signature.