"I fear I cannot help you in this matter," answered Laskoy. "I must carry out the law regarding Jews witnessing against Christians. If you would free your father from the need of swearing, you must ask Mr. Raby; one word from him obviates the necessity of an oath. He has only to prove an _alibi_, and the case is immediately dismissed."
Whereupon the two young Jews dashed across to Raby, fell on their knees before him, and begged and implored him with might and main, to set up this _alibi_--it was only a matter of speaking one word.
But old Abraham flew into a mighty rage.
"Get up both of you, and be off directly, and leave a brave man in peace. Who called you to come hither, running after me as the foals after the mare? Hold your miserable cackle, and away with you! Be kind enough, Mr. heyduke, to turn these two noisy fellows out of the court.
Go home at once, you boys, I don"t need your support, or your teaching in this matter. And I beg pardon, gentlemen, for the behaviour of these two good-for-nothings. Now I am ready to be sworn."
So after the two young Jews had been turned out, Abraham was sworn, though he took the oath in Hebrew, so that none present could follow the formula.
When it was over, Abraham prepared to leave the court, for Mathias Raby was free. This time at least had he escaped the dungeon his enemies had prepared for him.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Raby could hardly bear the delay in getting home. When the open verdict was p.r.o.nounced, a coach was already at the door of the a.s.sembly House, to bear him on his way: he threw himself into it, while the sparks flew under the swift hoofs of his horses.
Szent-Endre was not, after all, the other side of the world, but the distance seemed endless. On the way, he racked his brains as to how he would find Fruzsinka. Yet he could not have possibly dreamed of what his actual home-coming would be.
As he sprang from the vehicle, to knock at his house-door, he found the summons of the court nailed under the knocker, with all the misdemeanours and crimes whereof he had been falsely accused before the tribunal, set forth at length. As is well known, these kind of summonses were fixed to the house-door, were there no means of presenting them to the person cited.
Rage drove every other thought from Raby"s mind when he found this disgraceful doc.u.ment fluttering over his door. He tore it down indignantly, and beat with hand and foot at the entrance to gain admission.
Poor Boske, the maid-servant, at last opened it, looking white and frightened. "Why had they allowed this thing to be fastened to the door," he inquired angrily.
"I humbly beg pardon," stammered the girl, "the gentleman who brought it nailed it there with a hammer, and said if I tore it down I should be hanged."
"Why did your mistress not do it?"
"The gracious lady-mistress?"
"Yes, my wife, where is she then?"
"Ah, my dear kind master, how shall I tell you? Please don"t kill me for it! The gracious lady-mistress has left home."
"Stuff and nonsense! She has only probably gone to pay a visit."
"Ah, no indeed, she has not done that, she has, oh how shall I say it, run away. The very day the gracious master went, the lady-mistress wrote a letter and gave it to the gipsy Csicsa to carry. She did not wait for an answer, but packed up, called a coach, loaded it with her luggage, and drove off without saying a word about the dinner."
"Perhaps she has gone to her uncle"s at the prefecture?"
"No, indeed, she went in the other direction; I watched her from the street-door down the road, as far as I could see."
Raby went into the parlour. The girl had spoken the truth, that was evident. All the chests stood open; Fruzsinka had packed up all her own belongings when she went; she had not even left a single souvenir behind.
Raby was completely nonplussed; it was indeed a horrible situation for a man who hastens home on the wings of love to find his house dest.i.tute of all that made it home for him. He could think of nothing better than to seek out his uncle, the old postmaster, from whom, since his marriage, he had been somewhat estranged.
Raby entered the old man"s room without speaking a word, where he sat down and stretched out his legs in gloomy silence. He shrewdly suspected that his host knew what had happened, and why he was there. How should he not, considering everyone in Szent-Endre knew by this time. The old gentleman shrugged first one, and then the other shoulder expressively, whilst he coughed and cleared his throat in visible embarra.s.sment.
"H"m, h"m!" he said, significantly, "these fashionable ladies have not much feeling. Besides, you can never take them seriously. Therefore you must not let the gra.s.s grow under your feet."
"If I did but know where she has gone to?" sighed Raby.
"Now just wait! I fancy I can help you to find out. For two days past a letter has been lying here addressed to your wife. There--take it and read it." And he handed Raby a sealed missive.
"I, how can I open a letter which is directed to my wife?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes, indeed, why not? Are not man and wife according to the Hungarian law one flesh? A letter addressed for the one can legally be opened by the other, and I would do it, if I incurred the galleys for it, my friend, if I were in your place. Just read it, and I will be the guarantee that I delivered it into your hands."
Raby opened the note with trembling fingers.
It was in the handwriting of the judge, Petray, and though short, was quite intelligible.
"My darling Fruzsinka,
"From your own letter I see that you find it impossible to put up with your tyrant any longer. I thought as much long since. You do quite right in leaving him, and the sooner you get away from him the better; the man will come to no good. My house, as you know, will ever be a safe asylum for you. I await you with open arms.
"Your devoted friend,
"PETRAY."
Raby"s eyes were no longer glazed and staring as heretofore; they shot sparks now.
"Read it, my friend," he said, as he handed it to Mr. Leanyfalvy.
"Well, at any rate, now you know where you are."
"Know it, indeed I do," answered Raby, as he grimly folded up the note, and placed it in his coat pocket.
"And pray what do you mean to do?"
"First, I would have a four-horse coach."
"You shall have it sure enough. And then----?"
"Then I"ll go home and fetch my pistols and sword; look for a second, and then--either he or I are dead men."
"That"s it! It"s the only way. Only see to it that you think it out accurately. Suppose your opponent wants to fight with swords? Perhaps he"s an out-and-out swordsman."
"What does that matter? The sword will satisfy equally the duelling regulations, and will merely prove which of us can fence the better."
"Good! But take this much warning. The judge is a very cunning man; you will have to be on your guard. Be careful not to be the first to draw the sword, else he"ll be hanging round your neck an attainder in pursuance of an antiquated law which rules that "he who first draws the sword shall be held to incur blood-guiltiness.""
"Many thanks, I"ll remember your good advice."
"Ah! if you had always done so! Yet I am right glad that you don"t look askance at me any longer. You are another man since you made up your mind to fight! How a wife demoralises a man to be sure! There is nothing wanting now, except a sword and a pair of pistols. You need not go home for those. I have a rare old blade which was used at the storming of Buda, and will cut through iron itself; it is worth a good deal more than your parade-sword. And here are my pistols, each is loaded with three bullets; if you understand what shooting straight means, you can kill three enemies at once. So good luck, my young friend, I am glad you are going."