Teleki, upon whom the eyes of the Princess had flashed fiercely during the speech, as if accepting the challenge, answered in a cold, stony voice:
"Here, madam, we dispense justice only, not mercy or honour."
"Justice!" exclaimed Anna. "What! If a husband has offended, is his innocent wife, whose only fault is that she loves the fugitive, is she, I say, to suffer punishment in his stead? Where is the justice of that?"
"Justice is often another name for necessity."
"Then who are all ye whom I see here? Are ye the chief men of Transylvania or Turkish slaves? This is what I ask, and what we should all of us very much like to know: is this the council chamber of the free and const.i.tutional state of Transylvania, or is it the ante-chamber of Olaj Beg?"
The gentlemen present preserved a deep silence. This was a question to which they could not give a direct answer.
"I demand an answer to my question," cried Dame Apafi in a loud voice.
"And what good will the answer do you, my lady?" inquired Teleki, pressing his index-finger to his lips.
"I shall at any rate know whether the place in which we now stand is worthy of us."
"It is not worthy, my lady. The present is no time for the Magyars to be proud that they dwell in Transylvania; we are ashamed to be the responsible ministers of a down-trodden, deserted, and captive nation.
This your Highness ought to know as well as any of us, for it was a Turkish Pasha who placed your husband on the Prince"s seat. And, a.s.suredly, it would be a far less grief to us to lose our heads than to bend them humbly beneath the derisive honour of being the leaders of a people lying among ruins. But, at the most, history will only be able to say of us that we humbly bowed before necessity, that we bore the yoke of the stranger without dignity, that running counter to the feelings of our hearts and the persuasions of our minds, we covered our faces with shame, and yet that that very shame and dishonour saved the life of Transylvania, and that poor spot of earth which remained in our hands saved the whole country from a b.l.o.o.d.y persecution. We are the victims of the times, madam; help us to conceal the blush of shame and share it with us. There, you have the answer to your question."
Dame Apafi grew as pale as death, her head drooped, and she clasped her hands together.
"So we have come to this at last? Formerly valour was the national virtue, now it is cowardice. What is our own fate likely to be if we reject this poor woman? What has happened to-day to a Princess Ghyka might easily happen to the wives of Kornis and Csaky and Beldi to-morrow. For their husbands" faults they may be carried away captive, brought to the block, if only G.o.d does not have mercy upon them, for you yourselves say that this would be right. Why do you look at us? You, Beldi, Kornis, Teleki, Csaky, Bethlen, here stand your wives and daughters. Draw forth your coward swords, and if you dare not slay men, at least slay women; kill them before it occurs to the Turkish Padishah to drag them by the hair into his harem."
As Dame Apafi mentioned the names of the men one after another, their wives and daughters, loudly weeping, rushed towards them, and hiding their heads in their bosoms, with pa.s.sionate sobs, begged for the unfortunate Princess, and behold the eyes of the men also filled with tears, and nothing could be heard in the room but the sobbing of the husbands mingled with the sobbing of their wives.
On Teleki"s breast also hung the gentle Judith Veer and his own daughter Flora, and the great stony-hearted counsellor stood trembling between them; and although his cast-iron features a.s.sumed with an effort a rigorous expression, nevertheless a couple of unrestrainable tears suddenly trickled down the furrows of his face.
The Prince turned aside on his throne, and covering his face, murmured: "No more, Anna! No more!"
"Oh, Apafi!" cried the Princess bitterly; "if perish I must it shall not be by your hand. Anna Bornemissza has strength enough to meet death if there be no choice between that and shame. Be content, if Olaj Beg demands my death, I shall at least be spared the unpleasantness of falling at your feet in supplication. And now, p.r.o.nounce your decision, but remember that every word you say will resound throughout the Christian world."
Teleki dried the tears from his face, made his wife and daughter withdraw, and said in a voice tremulous with emotion:
"In vain should I deny it, my tears reveal that I have a feeling heart.
I am a man, I am a father, and a husband. If I were nothing but Michael Teleki, I should know how to sacrifice myself on behalf of persecuted innocence; and if my colleagues around me were only companions-in-arms, I should say to them, gird on your swords, lie in wait, rush upon the Turkish escort of the Princess, and deliver her out of their hands--if we perish, a blessing will be upon us. But in this place, in these chairs, it is not ourselves who feel and speak. The life, the death of all Transylvania depends upon us. And my last word is that we incontinently deliver up Mariska St.u.r.dza to the amba.s.sador of the Porte.
If my colleagues decide otherwise, I will agree to it, I will take my share of the responsibility, but I shall have saved my soul anyhow.
Speak, gentlemen, and if you like, vote against me."
The silence of death ensued, n.o.body spoke a word.
"What, n.o.body speaks?" cried Dame Apafi in amazement. "n.o.body! Ah! let us leave this place! There is not a man in the whole princ.i.p.ality."
And with these words the lady withdrew from the council chamber. Her attendants followed her sorrowfully, one by one, tearfully bidding adieu to the unfortunate Princess. Aranka Beldi was the last to part from her.
During the whole of this mournful scene her eyes had remained tearless, but she had knelt down the whole time by Mariska"s side, holding her closely embraced, and a.s.suring her that G.o.d would deliver her, she must fear nothing.
When all the ladies had withdrawn, and Dame Beldi beckoned her daughter to follow her, she tenderly kissed the face of her friend and whispered in her ear: "I have still hope, fear not, we will save you!" and smiling at her with her bright blue eyes like an angel of consolation, got up and withdrew.
The Princess, tearless, speechless, then allowed herself to be conducted away by the officers of the council chamber.
The men remained sitting upon their chairs, downcast and sorrowful.
Every bosom was oppressed, and every heart was empty, and the thought of their delivered fatherland was a cold consolation for the grief they felt that the Government of Transylvania should fling an innocent woman back into the throat of the monster which was pursuing her.
The silence still continued when, suddenly, the door was violently burst open, and shoving aside the guards right and left, Yffim Beg entered the room. He had been sent by Ha.s.san Pasha to levy contributions on the Prince and the people.
The rough Turkish captain looked round with boorish pride upon the silent gentlemen, who were still depressed by the preceding incident, and perceiving that here he had to do with the humble, without so much as bowing, he strode straight up to the Prince, and placing one foot on the footstool before the throne, and throwing his head haughtily back, flung these words at him:
"In the name of my master, the mighty Ha.s.san Pasha, I put this question to thee, thou Prince of the Giaurs, why hast thou kept back for so long the tribute which is due to the Porte? Who hath caused the delay--thou, or the farmers of the taxes, or the tax-paying people? Answer me directly, and take care that thou liest not!"
The Prince looked around with wrinkled brows as if looking for something to fling at the head of the fellow. He regretted that the inkstand was so far off.
But Teleki handed a sheet of parchment to Sarpataky, the clerk of the council.
"Read our answer to the Pasha"s letter," said he; "as for you--sir I will not call you--listen to what is written therein. "Beneficent Ha.s.san Pasha, we greatly regret that you bother yourself about things which are already settled. We do not ask you why you came so late to the battle of St. Gothard. Why do you ask us, then, why we are so late with the taxes?
We will answer for ourselves at the proper time and place. Till then, Heaven bless you, and grant that misfortune overwhelm you not just when you would ruin others." When you have written all that down, hand it to his Highness the Prince for signature."
The gentlemen present had fallen from one surprise into another. Michael Teleki, who a moment before, against the inclinations of his own heart and mind, had tried to compel the land to submit to the demand of Olaj Beg, could in the next moment send such a message to the powerful Vizier of Buda.
But Teleki knew very well that the storm which was pa.s.sing over the country on account of the Princess of Moldavia was sure to rebound on the head of the Vizier of Buda. The Sultan was seeking for an object on which to wreak his wrath because of the lost battle, and if the Pasha of Buda did not succeed in making the Government of Transylvania the victim, he would fall a victim himself.
As for Yffim Beg, he did not quite know whether a thunder-bolt had plunged down close beside him, or whether he was dreaming. There he stood like a statue, unable to utter a word, and only looked on stupidly while the letter was being written before his very eyes, while Apafi"s pen sc.r.a.ped the parchment as he subscribed his signature, while they poured the sand over it, folded it up, impressed it with an enormous seal, and thrust it into his palm.
Only then did he emerge somewhat from his stupor.
"Do ye think I am mad enough to carry this letter back with me to Buda?"
And with these words he seized the letter at both ends, tore it in two, and flung it beneath the table.
"Write another!" said he, "write it nicely, for my master, the mighty Ha.s.san Pasha, will strangle the whole lot of you."
Teleki turned coldly towards him.
"If you don"t like the letter, worthy muderris, you may go back without any letter at all."
"I am no muderris, but Yffim Beg. I would have thee know that, thou dog; and I won"t go without a letter, and I won"t let you all go till ye have written another."
And with these words he sat down on the steps of the Prince"s throne and crossed his legs, so that two were sitting on the throne at the same time, the Beg and Apafi.
"Guards!" cried Apafi in a commanding voice, "seize this shameless fellow, tie him on to a horse"s back and drive him out of the town."
They needed not another word. One of the guards immediately rushed forward to where Yffim Beg was still sitting on a footstool with legs crossed, and took him under the arm, while another of them grasped him firmly by the collar, and raising him thus in the air, kicking and struggling, carried him out of the room in a moment. The Beg struck, bit, and scratched, but it was all of no avail. The merciless drabants set him on the back of a horse in the courtyard, without a saddle, tied his feet together beneath the horse"s belly, placed the bridle of the steed in the hands of a stable-boy, while another stable-boy stood behind with a good stout whip; and so liberally did they interpret the commands of the chief counsellor, that they escorted the worthy gentleman, not only out of the town, but beyond the borders of the realm.
CHAPTER XVI.
A FIGHT FOR HIS OWN HEAD.