The Day of Wrath

by Mór Jókai

  CHAPTER VII.

  A MAN OF IRON.

  General Vertessy had for many years been the commandant of a militarystation in Hungary. After such a long time as that, men get to beacquainted with one another, and the soldier comes to be regarded asquite a member of the family. The townsfolk, too, begin to speak of himas a member of the upper classes; no great entertainment is consideredcomplete without him, and the ordinary civilian exchanges greetings withhim as a man and a brother in all places of public resort. The countymakes him a magistrate on account of his numerous distinguishedservices; he receives the freedom of the city for the same reason; and,finally, the only daughter of a most distinguished patrician family,impressed by the gallant soldier's noble qualities, consents to becomehis wife; and thus the general, as citizen and magistrate, as husbandand landlord, becomes rooted by the strongest ties to the soil which itis his duty as a soldier to defend.

  His acquaintances in general have the greatest confidence in him; histenants allude to him gratefully, for he deals mercifully with them; thecitizens regard him with respectful astonishment when, on the outbreakof a fire, he orders out his soldiers, and is himself the first toclamber to the top of the burning roof, distributing his commands in themidst of danger as if his life was worth no more than the life of anybroken-down, invalided old soldier; the school children rejoice at thesight of him, for he is always sure to be in his place on the occasionof any public examination, to distribute sixpences and shillings tothose scholars who give the best answers, and exhort them to hold uptheir heads and stand upright like good little men! When then, afterthis, they meet him in the street, the little fellows throw back theirheads and stick out their chests so that it does you good to look atthem. For the General dearly loves children. Very frequently they breakhis windows with their tops and balls, but he never scolds them for it,and always gives them back their playthings. "They are but children, letthem play!" says he.

  In society, too, he is a most agreeable, amusing man, polite andchivalrous towards ladies, and at public entertainments he distinguisheshimself by his neat little speeches, which are always good-natured, verymuch to the point, and seasoned with attic salt of a piquant but not toopungent quality. He is merciful to the absurdities of hisfellow-citizens; it is no business of his to impress them with anyaffectation of soldierly gravity or stiffness; and if at first sighthis stern, clean-shaven face--the regulation countenance of soldiers ofthose days--keeps a timid stranger somewhat at a distance, he has onlyto open his mouth, and his beautifully pure Magyar accent and intonationprove to demonstration that, soldier as he is, he has remained a trueson of his fatherland--and all hearts open to him at once.

  But all this ceases at the gate of the barracks. Within the barrackcourtyard there is an end to all friendship, kinsmanship, _camaraderie_,and patronage. He is no longer either a county magistrate or an honorarycitizen. He has done with all those qualities which make up a man'ssocial amiability. Here Vertessy is only a soldier, a rigorous,inexorable commandant, who never overlooks a blunder, and never leaves afault unpunished.

  As regards the good school children, you could give them no betterencouragement than to say to them: "The General is coming and will patyou on the shoulder!" but there was nothing so terrible to the badschool children as to be threatened with the General if they did notlearn their lessons. "You'll be sent to the General, and he will tap youfrom the shoulder to the heel and make another man of you indouble-quick time," people used to say to them.

  At any rate, so much is certain: the most stubborn, pig-headed louts,whom no school would keep at any price, when sent, despite the tears andprotests of their fond mothers, to the General's establishment, used toreturn from thence in a couple of years or so as if transformed. Theyhad become orderly, methodical, manly fellows, courteous, tractable, andas spick and span as if they had just been taken out of a band-box. Asto what exactly happened to them during their manipulation in this samemilitary band-box not one of them was ever known to allude in a boastfulspirit; but the lay mind had a very strong suspicion that not much timewas wasted inside the barracks in fine talking.

  Moreover, the General used to have guilty soldiers tied up and wellwhipped without first stopping to inquire who their fathers might be.With him punishment was meted out with no regard for persons. It was theuniform, not the man who happened to be inside it, that he regarded.When his soldiers were drawn up in line he was quite blind to the factthat this man perhaps was the son of his old crony, or that man was theson of a county magistrate--sergeants, corporals, ensigns, and privates,these were the only distinctions he ever made. And if anybody tried todistinguish himself by appearing on parade in a dirty jacket, he had itwell dusted for him there and then in a way the individual concerned wasnot likely to forget in a hurry.

  Nor did the General ever allow anybody, no matter whom, to be exemptedfrom service. The dear little gentlemen-cadets had to pace up and downwhen on guard, with seven-pound muskets across their shoulders, justlike anybody else, though the hearts of their distinguished mammasalmost broke at the sight, when they drove over in their fine coachesto see their darlings. Malingerers, again, had a fearful time of it withhim. Such young gentlemen never wanted to go to the hospital more thanonce. Their distinguished mammas would scurry off to the General full ofdespair, and explain to him with tears in their eyes that this or thatyoung exquisite lay mortally sick in the hospital, would he allow themto take their poor darlings home, or at least let them come to thehospital to nurse the invalids there, or send them nice tempting dishesfrom home, or tell the family doctor to call? No, nothing of the sort.The General used to receive them buttoned up to the chin, and nothing onearth could move him. The proper place for the fellow was thebarrack-hospital, he would say, there he would receive proper treatmentlike any other of His Majesty's soldiers; the regimental surgeons hadquite sufficient science to cure him. And it regularly happened thatafter a four or five days' course of a platter of coarse barley pottage,and half an ounce of plain black commissariat bread, the young gentlemanwas so completely cured of every bodily ailment that he had never thefaintest wish ever afterwards to divert himself in the hospital, butpreferred instead to attend to his daily duties.

  Nor could his officers boast that he showed them any special indulgence.It was really terrible how he contrived to fill up their time all daylong: instruction, regimental practice, writing, calculation, technicalstudies filled up every hour of the day. The smoking-rooms of the cafesand the civic promenades very rarely saw Vertessy's officers gatheredtogether there. The officers had to know everything which the Generalasked them about, and were often obliged to work out for themselves,with the aid of their mother wit, the details of their extremely laconicinstructions. Everyone knew, too, that he could not endure the slightestsuspicion of cowardice; if an officer were insulted, he was obliged tofight in defence of his honour, or the regiment was made too hot to holdhim. If, on the other hand, the townsmen got to know anything of thedetails of these duels, he would punish severely all the officersconcerned in the affair, for he placed boastfulness on the same level ascowardice. Such severity had this good effect however, that the soldierstried to live amicably with the townsmen as they knew very well that itwould be impossible to keep dark a duel with any of the black-coatedgentry, such an event was certain to be an object of common gossip inall four quarters of the town within twenty-four hours.

  It was also a recognised fact throughout the length and breadth of thekingdom that the officers of Vertessy's regiment were all wellinstructed, orderly, serious men, and that this result was due entirelyto the initiative of "the iron man," for this was the name most usuallyand very naturally applied to him.

  And his face, figure, and expression, corresponded with the name. Hewas of a tall, straight, well-knit-together habit of body, with broadshoulders and a well-rounded chest. His head seemed almost too small forhis extraordinary developed body, especially as the chestnut-brown hairwas clipped quite short. His face was of a deep red, and shaved t
o thechin, but a pair of small well kept semicircular whiskers helped to giveit character. His nose was straight, his mouth small; his eyes were greyand piercing. And everything on this face: nose, mouth, eyes, down tothe smallest feature, seemed one and all to be under the most rigorousmilitary discipline, not one of them was suffered to move without theGeneral's command. When once his features are under orders to be coldlysevere, the lips may not give expression to joy, the eyes may not beclouded with sorrow, the eyebrows may not contract with rage, or leadanyone to suspect, by so much as a twitch or a jerk, that anything inthe world outside has the slightest influence upon the business he mayhappen to have on hand.

  We may add that the General did not acquire this honourable title intimes of peace. Formerly, beneath the walls of Dresden, when he was alieutenant scarcely five-and-twenty years old, he had earned it byholding a position on the battle-field as stubbornly as if he had reallybeen made of cast iron, whereby a totally defeated army corps was savedfrom the annihilating pursuit of the triumphant foe. Even the enemy'sgeneral had inquired on this occasion: "Who is that man of iron whowill neither break nor bend?" That, then, was how he had won the epithet"iron."

  Subsequently the nickname was applied in jest or flattery; you couldtake it as spite, fear, or homage, according to the manner in which itwas pronounced, naturally always behind the General's back, for it wentvery hard indeed with the man who ventured to pick a quarrel with him,and still harder, if possible, with anybody who tried to flatter him.

  * * * * *

  In the ante-chamber of "the iron man" stood an orderly with a big sealeddispatch in his hand, a tall grenadier-sort of warrior, with two stifflytwisted moustachios, the pointed ends of which projected like a coupleof fixed bayonets. A deep scar furrowed each of his red cheeks from endto end, a living testimony to the fact that this warrior was no meresucking soldier. His chin was planted firmly on his stiff cravat andhalf hidden by the broad loop of his shako. His jacket was as white aschalk, and his buttons shone as if they were fresh from the shop. On hisbosom gleamed gloriously the large copper medal of which the veterans offormer days used to be so proud. The warrior was standing motionlessbehind the door, with the big sealed dispatch in his bosom; not a muscleof him moves, his heels are pressed close together at attention, hiseyes now and then glance furtively from side to side, but his neck doesnot stir the least little bit.

  The oblique motion of his eyes, however, is explicable by the fact thata trim little wench, a nursery-maid from some village hard by, with around radiant face, with her hair trailing down her back in ribbonedpigtails, is rummaging about the room as if she had no end of work to dothere, casting furtive sheep's eyes from time to time at the uprightsoldier, and looking as if she would very much like to say to him: "Oh!how frightened I am of you!"

  "Why don't you sit down, Mr. Soldier?" she says at last; "don't you seethat chair there? And here have I been dusting it so nicely for you."

  "A pretty thing for an orderly to sit down in the General'sante-chamber," replies the defender of his country. "Short irons wouldbe very soon ready for me, I can tell you."

  "Then why are you here at all?"

  "That is not for your ears, my little sister."

  "You are looking for the General, eh? Well, he is inside that room therealong with my lady, his wife--why don't you go in?"

  "You've a nice idea of manners, I must say! What! an orderly to make hisway into the room of the General's lady!"

  "Then give the letter here and I'll take it in for you."

  "Now, my little sister, that's quite enough! What! deliver a letter intothe hands of anybody but the person to whom it is addressed!"

  "Do you know how to write, Mr. Orderly?"

  "What a question! Ask me another! Why, if I could write I should havebecome a sergeant long ago."

  "Why don't you take off that shako? It's pretty heavy, ain't it?"

  "Now, my little wench, that's quite enough! Right about turn, quickmarch! They are calling you in the kitchen."

  The nursery-maid scuttled off. The veteran was getting quite angry atall these simple questions.

  In no very long time, however, the neat little wench came sidling backagain. First she poked her head through the kitchen door as if shewanted to find out whether the big soldier there would bite off hernose--which was a little snub, and small enough already.

  "Mr. Orderly, the cook has sent you three hearth cakes."

  "Good."

  "Take them then." This she said, still keeping at a safe distance, andthrusting forward the nice lard-made hearth cakes as if she wereoffering them to some snappy, snarling watch-dog at the end of a longchain.

  "I can't," answered the gallant defender of his country sturdily.

  "Ain't you got hands, then?"

  "No, not for them. But if you like you can tuck them into mycartridge-box behind there."

  "What, in there?" inquired snub-nose amazedly. "But ain't theregunpowder inside?"

  "Shove 'em in, they won't hurt it."

  "Won't it explode?"

  "Not unless a spark from your eyes catches it."

  The nursery-maid timidly lifted the brightly-polished lid of thecartridge-box, peeping half up at the soldier to see if he meant tofrighten her, and at the same time gazing curiously at the many funnyround little things in the cartridge-box, at which she pretended to bedesperately afraid.

  The gallant soldier was in duty bound not to move his hand, but he sofar relaxed as to allow the tips of two of his fingers to crookdownwards and give the plump round arm of the wench a good tweak.

  "Be off with you, I'm afraid you're a bad man after all, Mr. Soldier!"

  "I fancy I am too, otherwise I suppose there would not have been so muchof me--little and good you know!"

  "Do you know why the cook sent you those cakes?"

  "That I may eat them instead of you, I suppose."

  "Go along, you naughty man! You do say such naughty things! No, she sentthem that you might tell her when the next public whipping will takeplace."

  "Does the cook want to see it then? A nice pastime, I must say. Youdon't want to see it too, do you?"

  "No, not I."

  "You ought to see it. It is just the thing for wenches. There arealways as many ladies present on such occasions as if it wasplay-acting."

  "Oh, I should like to see it then, the sooner the better. Will there beanother soon? That's for the General to decide, isn't it? If I were aGeneral I would order a flogging every morning, and make the band playevery evening."

  "That would be very nice. Come hither, and I will whisper it."

  "Truly?" inquired the wench, half turning her head round. "But don'tshout in my ear!"

  When she had got near enough to the soldier for him to be able towhisper in her ear, he suddenly planted a smacking kiss on her redcheek.

  In her terror the wench gave a bound back to the kitchen door, but thereshe remained standing, and rubbed her face vigorously with her blueapron.

  "Yes, you are indeed a bad man, Mr. Orderly. And still you have not yettold me when the next whipping will be."

  "Don't fret, my little sister. The spectacle will be better than youthink. There will be a shooting-to-death shortly."

  "A shooting-to-death! Oh! that _will_ be nice! And who is going to beshot?"

  "A soldier, my little sister."

  "And you'll have to shoot him, perhaps, eh?"

  "It is quite possible, my little sister."

  "Oh, Mr. Soldier, that's too bad!"

  The snub-nosed wench made haste to quit a room in which stood a manheartless enough to shoot down his living fellow-man, and outside inthe kitchen she had a long discussion with the cook about it, and theycame to the conclusion that it must be a very fine entertainment to seea man shot right through the head. First there would be the getting upearly, for such spectacles generally take place at dawn, and it wouldnever do to sleep away such an opportunity as that, especially as it wasjust as likely as not that
the poor devil would be placed in the pilloryfirst. What could he have been doing? But suppose they were to pardonhim? Oh, no! no chance of that, for the General never pardons anybody;even if it were his own son he would not pardon him if he were foundguilty, for he was "the iron man."

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, inside there, "the iron man" is sitting in his wife's room ona small embroidered armless chair. Opposite to him on a large elevateddivan lies his wife, a tiny, elegant, transparent little lady, with aface of alabaster, and wee wee hands which a child of two would not haveknown what to do with if they had been doled out to her. Her smallstrawberry-like mouth scarcely seemed to have been made for talkingpurposes; all the more eloquent, on the other hand, were her largedark-blue eyes, which were saying at that moment that those who can loveare very, very happy.

  The iron man was sitting in front of her with his elbows planted on hisknees and both his hands stretched forwards. Extended on these twohands of his was a skein of thread, which the elegant little woman waswinding with great rapidity.

  He need only have stretched his arms a wee bit more to burst the wholeskein to pieces, but he has learnt to watch very carefully lest thethread gets entangled, and he laughs heartily every time he moves hishands clumsily, at the same time begging pardon and promising to dobetter in future.

  "My darling, I have an old sword--it served me well in the Frenchwar--do you think it would be of any use to you?"

  The little lady laughed, and how charmingly she could laugh; it soundedlike the bells of a glass harmonica striking against each other.

  "I understand the allusion. If you can use the owner of the sword forunwinding thread, you might use his sword instead of scissors."

  "I mean what I say."

  "That doesn't matter a bit, you must wait till the skein is unwound."

  "Naturally that is as it should be, of course. Nor would I sufferanybody else to take my place. To hold a skein of thread requires greatstrength of mind, not every man is up to it. A giddy head would verysoon give way beneath the task. It is a science in itself. Besides, Iswore before the parson I would take you 'for better or worse.' You seehow I keep my word. Look there now! The thread has tied itself into aknot again. Now, if one of your parlour-maids had been holding it, youwould have been angry with her, but as my darling little wife it is notlawful for you to be angry. Do you hear me? It is not lawful for you tobe angry with me, I say."

  The little lady undid the knot again, and her husband tenderly kissedthe little intervening hand as it drew nearer; the little lady affectednot to have observed this, but she knew it well enough.

  "Look now, my darling! it is you who have taught me to consider myselfan extraordinary fine fellow. Formerly, when people used to say: GeneralVertessy is such and such a man, I only used to hold my tongue and thinkto myself: Talk away! talk away! _I_ happen to know that Vertessy is astimid as a child, there is one thing he is as much in dread of as anyschoolgirl, and that is--unravelling a skein of thread. When I was alittle chap I twice ran away from home to avoid this very thing. And nowmy dear little spouse has made it quite clear to me that GeneralVertessy is _not_ afraid of it after all. Honour to whom honour is due!General Vertessy is a brave man."

  "Naturally; why the thirteenth labour of Hercules brought him more famethan all the rest--don't you remember how he held the skeins of MadameOmphale?"

  "That was the greatest of his heroic exploits, certainly. You ladiescannot imagine what tyranny you practice upon the masculine gender whenyou constrain them to this terrible servitude. To wear chains is a merejest, but when you bind a man with a skein of thread, a mere gossamer,in fact, and then tell him he must not break it asunder, that is crueltyindeed! Why don't the English invent a machine for this sort of hardlabour? They rack their brains about steamboats, about woman's rights,and the emancipation of the negro; but as to _these_ fetters, these..."

  "Come, come, attend to your skein!"

  And indeed those dangerous fetters, as the General called them, werethemselves in great danger, for the General in his ardour had made aslight gesture which had almost ripped them asunder.

  "I'll take it away from you if you don't behave yourself properly. Fancymaking such lamentations over a little skein-unravelling!"

  "Oh, I am not speaking of myself. I am used to all sorts of hardships. Ipity more particularly those poor innocent children who come to groanunder this unnatural yoke. Just picture to yourself, my dear, one suchinnocent eight or nine years old, a little lad whose blood bubbles overlike champagne, who sees the sun shining through the windows, who hearsthe boisterous mirth of his comrades outside as they play at ball, andwould give anything to run away himself and romp and wrestle and turnsomersaults; fancy such a one obliged to remain shut up in a room,fettered by a string of thread or cotton, and made to move his hands upand down just as if he were some stupid machine; fancy him fidgetingfirst on one leg and then on another, and waiting, waiting for the endof the interminable skein! I wonder they don't become utter blockheadsbeneath the strain. I wonder their teachers don't forbid it. If I had achild he should not be allowed to hold a skein. No son of mine, I tellyou, should ever become a mere skein-unwinding machine..."

  And it seemed somehow more than a jest, for the gallant soldier nowsuddenly forgot all about the skein entrusted to him, and with tenderemotion pressed his blushing little wife to his bosom.

  The little lady with infinite patience slowly disentangled the chaoticlabyrinth of threads again, and then exclaimed with a deep sigh:

  "Life and death lie between..."

  They both knew the meaning of the allusion.

  Then the uninterrupted labour proceeded again. The iron man was nowcompletely silent, but one could observe from the unconsciously radiantexpression of his face that his mind was occupied by some very pleasingthought, and in the delightful contemplation thereof he had no longerany idea that he was holding a skein of thread.

  Presently, however, he said:

  "Let us begin another!"

  He must certainly have found it a very agreeable pastime to say that.

  It was this time a skein of silk that the little lady wanted to haveunwound. This was a still higher symbol of tenderness. Not in vain doesthe folksong sing of the captive of love being bound with silkenchains.

  "But, my dear, when I was a little boy, and had to hold skeins, mysisters, by way of compensation, used to tell me tales."

  "With all my heart."

  "Fire away, then: once upon a time...!"

  "Once upon a time there was a girl who always wanted to die."

  "Ah! I scarcely bargained for that."

  "She was constantly pale, and took it for a compliment when people saidto her that she was as white as death."

  "She must have eaten lots of raw coffee and chalk, I'll be bound."

  "Don't interrupt, I want to tell a tale, not circulate scandal."

  "I am all attention."

  "Sometimes she carried her bizarre ideas so far as to appear at dancesin a white dress trimmed with black, and with a myrtle wreath on herhead, just as the dead are wont to be arrayed for the tomb. By way of abreast-pin she used to wear a small skeleton's head carved out ofmother-o'-pearl, and she boasted that her gloves had been taken out ofthe coffin of a deceased friend."

  "Shall I be very unfeeling if I allow myself to smile?"

  "Pray do nothing of the kind, or you'll be very sorry in a moment."

  "Ah, ha! I know a man who fell in love with this girl."

  "All the more reason to be serious."

  "And subsequently that man got the better of his passion altogether."

  "Do not be too sure."

  "Too sure! Why, I have been studying the whole case these four years."

  "As defendant?"

  "Defendant, indeed! I wanted to make that girl my wife. Oh! you werequite a little thing then, a wee wee little lass, scarcely so big as myfinger. You were learning to dance in those days and had not yetappeared upon the
scene."

  "And you deserted that girl on the eve of the wedding!"

  "I had reasons for doing so, of which nobody, I fancy, is aware."

  "They said at the time that you found out that Benjamin Hetfalusy, thegirl's father, was over head and ears in debt, and that you withdrew forthat reason."

  "I did not take the trouble to contradict the rumour, it was so likeGeneral Vertessy to marry for money."

  "And the Hetfalusy family became of course your bitterest enemies everafterwards?"

  "They have insulted, but they cannot wound me."

  "And you forgave them for it?"

  "I never troubled my head about them."

  "Say that you forgive them."

  "I don't want to flatter myself. I simply forgot them."

  "Very well, now let us go on with our story. This poor family has hadmany heavy visitations of late."

  Vertessy's face grew very grave.

  "My dear, I am afraid your skein of silk will break asunder on my armsif you go on with such stories. Don't speak to me of the calamities ofthe Hetfalusy family. I am not at all interested in the happiness ofthese people, and if they are wretched I don't want to hear anythingabout it. They seem to have always been bent upon tempting Fate, so thatit is not surprising if Fate at last has turned upon them. But I don'twant to know anything about it. I am not good enough to grieve with themin their misfortunes, and I am not bad enough to rejoice in theirmisery. Leave the subject alone, my dear Cornelia."

  Cornelia put down the little ball of silk, relieved her husband's armsof the skein, and then sitting beside him on a little stool, kept onstroking him with her tiny hands until she had quite smoothed out allthe angry wrinkles on his face, and he had brightened up again anddeclared, like a good little boy, that he was not a bit put out andwould listen to the story again.

  "Poor Leonora! her married life was very unhappy."

  "But she got what she wanted."

  "It seems to me that you know more of my story than I do myself."

  "I only know the happy part of it. Was not her husband her youthfulideal?"

  "You amaze me. Whenever we used to meet subsequently, she was alwaysfull of lamentations, and described herself as very unhappy. To my mindshe only took Szephalmi out of bravado, because you deserted her."

  "My dear, after that I must whisper in your ear something which only oneother soul in the world but myself knows anything about. I am sure _you_will not say anything about it, because you are good, and that otherperson will be silent because she is afraid to speak. That pale lady whowas so fond of thinking of death, who went to a ball in a myrtle wreathand a white dress with a black fringe, used to have assignations in thedilapidated hut of an old village granny with a youth who was no otherthan Szephalmi, her present husband. The affair was kept so secret thatnobody knew anything about it. The old hag, why I know not, confided thesecret to me on the very day when I arrived at Hetfalu Castle inreadiness for the wedding. It was as I have said. My pale moonbeam, wheneverybody was asleep in the castle, used to put on a peasant girl'sgarb, wrap her head in a flowered kerchief, and glide all alone, alongthe garden paths, to the old woman's hut at the end of the village,where the youth, disguised as a shepherd, was waiting for her. Oh! thisintimacy was of long standing. I heard them talking to each other. In myfirst mad paroxysm of rage, I was for rushing out and killing the pairof them on the spot; but gradually I recovered my senses, and I askedmyself whether it was not more shameful for me, a soldier, to havepried upon a woman than for that woman to have deceived me. Besides,what was there to be done if she loved another? She ought not, ofcourse, to have promised me her hand--a hand without a heart _must_bring dishonour with it. I said nothing to anybody. I went back to thecastle, and the next day I had an interview with the girl's father, andmade pecuniary demands upon him, which, in view of the shattered stateof his finances, I knew it was impossible for him to comply with. Wesplit upon that very point. There was no marriage. The guests separated.The world laughed. I was cried down as a money-grubber, and for a longtime I was in such bad odour, that I'll wager anything that if I hadsued for the hand of any respectable girl her relations would have shownme the door in double-quick time. My darling little Cornelia certainlydisplayed great strength of mind to accept a man who was notorious forhaving jilted his bride."

  "And you had to endure a whole heap of persecutions in consequence."

  "Yes, a great many. The Hetfalusys had powerful kinsfolk who did theirutmost to make life intolerable to me. A nephew of Benjamin's, who wasan officer in the guards, insulted me publicly in the street. The mostdamaging insinuations were made against me in high places. All mymeasures were openly and freely criticized. They sought to embroil mewith the county authorities. I was persecuted by high and low. Idefended myself and held my tongue. I fought duels, I had an answer foreveryone. I suffered in silence--but I never betrayed that lady'ssecret. Keep what I have told you in the depths of your heart, mydarling, as I have done hitherto."

  Cornelia kissed her husband's high open forehead.

  "Yet poor Leonora had her punishment too," said she; "he whom she longedafter so much when once she possessed him made her wretched. Szephalmiwas unfaithful to her."

  "My dear Cornelia, you cannot have love without respect. Szephalmi onlymarried his wife because her desperation drove him to do so. I haveoften heard people say that Leonora used to dance at parties as if shewished to kill herself, and would drink quantities of iced water whenshe was in a most heated condition. It was no longer a pretence withher. What scenes took place at home between her mother and herself itwas no business of mine to pry into; but this I know right well that thegirl one day went straight to Szephalmi and threatened him there andthen with something terrible if he did not marry her. I will not tellyou, Leonora's former friend, the nature of this threat; it would revoltyour pure mind too much, for a heart like yours could form no idea ofit; but it is certain that it was fear rather than love which inducedSzephalmi to lead her to the altar. I know, however, that the marriagewas not unblessed; they have two children."

  "They had."

  "What! are they dead then?"

  "A terrible destiny seems to oppress the whole family. The little girl,her father's darling, disappeared one day without leaving a trace behindher, and the other child was struck dead by lightning while the motherwas watching by its sick bed; the mother was killed at the same time."

  The General was deeply affected by these words. The heart of the ironman trembled.

  "Merciful God...!"

  "Old Hetfalusy had a stroke when the dreadful tidings reached him."

  "No, _no_! He did _not_ deserve so much suffering. Fate has been morerigorous towards him than he deserved."

  "And as if this were not enough--you knew Hetfalusy's son who became asoldier?"

  "I knew him. He was a hot-blooded youth, warfare might have made a goodsoldier of him."

  "Well, he quarrelled with his captain in Poland and fired a pistol athim."

  "A misfortune, a great misfortune," said the General, pressing his fistsso tightly together that if there had been anything inside them it wouldhave been crushed to pieces.

  "After this deed the youth fled."

  "That is worse still," murmured the General, and he pressed his ironfists still more violently together.

  "And if I am not mistaken, this is the third time that he has runaway."

  There were now two beads of sweat on the General's forehead; he wouldhave wiped it dry with his hand, but he could not, for his fists werefirmly clenched, and it never occurred to him to open them.

  "My dear Cornelia," said he, "if you know where this young man now is, Iimplore you to tell me nothing about it. You know that I ought not tohear it."

  "You very soon will know all about it; the unhappy youth appeared in hisfather's house on the very day when his sister and her son lay in theircoffins."

  "Then he has been arrested," cried the General quickly.

  "What makes you think t
hat?"

  "Because his own father would be the first person to deliver him up."

  Cornelia regarded her husband with amazement.

  "Is it not so, I say?" he cried passionately, springing from his seat"Hetfalusy has given up his fugitive son, I'll swear he has, even if Ihad not been told it beforehand."

  "So indeed it is," said Cornelia sadly.

  "And how came you to know it before it has been officially reported tome?"

  "My uncle is a magistrate there, and he told me. He came from thence inhis carriage, while the prisoner was being brought along on foot."

  "They are bringing him hither--hither to me," groaned the Generalimpatiently and turning pale. "They will hand him over to me, and Ishall have to pronounce judgment upon him."

  How he feared, how he shuddered at the thought!

  "You could not have told me a worse tale," resumed the General, turningto his wife, and supporting her tender little head against his bosom."That is a sad, a very sad story."

  "But the end has yet to come."

  "Yes, and the saddest part of it is that the end of it is in my hands."

  "And to my mind it could not be in better hands."

  "How can you say that? Is not every member of the Hetfalusy family mypersonal enemy? If I could forget everything else, must I not rememberthat they have insulted you? Why, this very young windbag actuallyinsulted you, you my wife, at a public assembly, and now Fate has casthim at my feet, him the last scion of the family, and I must be hisjudge and pronounce sentence of death upon him! The whole world willbelieve that I have gladly taken advantage of this grievous opportunityof revenging myself in the most bloody, the most exemplary manner uponmy enemies! They will fancy that I condemn the son of my bitterest enemyto the gallows because I am thirsting for his blood. And you say it iswell that it should be so!"

  "I said it and I will stick to it. I am quite confident that you willsave him."

  "_I_ save him?" cried the General, opening wide his blue eyes withamazement; "it is impossible."

  "I believe that General Vertessy, that rigorous, inflexible man, whomhis admirers and his detractors alike called 'the man of iron,' who hasnever relaxed the rule of discipline to favour friend or kinsman, willdo everything in his power to make an exception for once in his life,and save the son of his enemy from the rigour of the law. Oh! I knowthis gentleman right well, I am confident that so he will act."

  "It is impossible, impossible; if he were my own brother I would notsave him in his unfortunate position."

  "A brother you could not save, I'll allow; but this youth--oh, yes! I ampersuaded that you will not be satisfied till you have devised somemethod of saving this unfortunate youth."

  And in saying this, she knew right well how to read the very depths ofthe heart and mind of the man of iron.

  The General impatiently quitted his wife's room, but the moment he hadcrossed its threshold, there was not a trace of impatience to be seen onhis face.

  The orderly was still standing in the ante-chamber and, turning on hisheels in the direction of the General, presented to him the sealeddispatch which he had thrust into his bosom.

  It was the official report of the arrest of the deserter.

  The General made a sign to the soldier that he might depart.

  Then the General returned to the room he had quitted, spread out thedocument in front of him, sat down over it, supported his head in hishands, and for a long, long time struggled with oppressive and wearyingthoughts.