The Day of Wrath
Page 18
CHAPTER XVII.
THE VOICE OF THE LORD.
During the blasphemous speech of the frantic virago nobody had observedthat Peter Zudar had reached the courtyard of the castle. In thedarkness and prevailing confusion he had been able to creep up to thewretched woman unobserved.
He had heard to the end her furious outburst, her horrible menace. Hehad seen the convulsions of the stony-hearted squire in the midst of hisfetters, he had seen the tender child collapse beneath the touch of thehorrible virago, and he had fulfilled his mission.
The people, who in that awful moment had seen his bright sword flashforth like Heaven's lightning, who had seen the monstrously mutilatedbody of the woman totter in their midst, and spurt blood on all thebystanders, who had seen the awe-inspiring figure of the headsman closeto them all, him whom they had fancied dead and buried, him whom theirown eyes had seen burnt to ashes--all these people stood for a moment asif turned to stone, as if their souls had left their bodies.
This brief interval of petrified astonishment was sufficient for PeterZudar to snatch up the sorrowing child with one hand, while with theother he whirled his bloody sword above his head, and opened a way forhimself to the gate.
Then, when the rioters saw him escaping, they came to themselves again.
"After him!" cried Hanak, catching hold of his scythe.
"After him!" roared the Leather-bell, grasping a torch, and bounding onin front, and so skilfully did he scatter the sparks in the eyes of thepursuers, that their dazzled eyes could see absolutely nothing. When, atlast, he came to a narrow bridge over a stream which they had to cross,he stumbled so suddenly that those coming immediately behind tumbledover him, and the torch was extinguished in the water. Zudar, meanwhile,had had time to conceal himself and the girl in the bushes on the banksof the stream. Nobody had observed him except the Leather-bell, and assoon as that worthy could gain his legs again he fell a-bellowing withall his might:
"On, on! there he goes! catch him, seize him!"
And off he went at full tilt, as if a high price had been set upon thehead of the pursued, and he was determined to win it, whilst Zudar, snugin his hiding-place, listened to the hundreds and hundreds of patteringfeet that made the bridge creak over his head, and to the hundreds andhundreds of hoarse voices clamouring for his blood. Presently he heardthem all come panting back again, cursing and swearing and consolingone another with the assurance that although they had not caught himnow, he would not be able to escape them for long.
"Yes," he thought to himself, "a time is coming when you will find mewithout having sought me."
And now the pursuing band, full of fresh fury, stormed back to thecastle. The Leather-bell cursed them for not following up the trail whenthey were already hot upon it. He had had, he maintained, the tail ofthe fugitive's coat in his very hand, but had been obliged to leave gobecause they had not helped him to hold on, and so the headsman had fledaway among the maize-fields.
The sky was now growing grey, the dawn was not far off; but the folkshad forgotten to ring in the morning, for the bell-ringers had somethingbetter to do.
At Thomas Bodza's command they carried the corpses aside out of thecourtyard, the corpses of Ivan, Dame Zudar, and poor Mekipiros. Theyconveyed them to a large ditch at the back of the house, so that nonemight see their remains.
The surviving ringleader felt a secret satisfaction when his colleagueshad thus perished by his side. He alone remained upon the field, and heflattered himself that Fate was on his side, and by thus putting theleading threads of the whole movement into his hands, meant to emphasizethe fact that _mind_ was the true motive-power--his own mindnaturally--and therefore it was for him, and him alone, to hold sway.
The mob must be impressed, of course, by some greatnever-to-be-forgotten scene, which would give a touch of sublimity toits hitherto low and common rioting.
So Thomas Bodza ascended to the highest step of the castle staircase,from whence he declared to the mob that as the champions of justice theyhad prevailed.
"And now," continued he, "we will pronounce judgment on thepoison-mixers according to the good old Greek custom. Let the peopletake potsherds in their hands. In front of the hall stand two urns. Inone is life, in the other death. Let each one of you cast his vote intowhich urn he pleases. This, my friends, is the ostracism of classicaltimes. You are the archons who shall give judgment, and the whole worldwill thus see that we exercise according to law and order the authoritywhich we have won with our arms. Sit around me, therefore, oh, citizens,and let the accused be brought forth!"
The gaping mob was delighted with this new diversion.
Hitherto the only occasion on which they had had an opportunity ofseeing a court of justice was when they had been led in chains, for somecrime or other, before the green table of the district court, wheregreat gentlemen pronounced sentences upon them out of big thick books.And now one of these very great gentlemen was, in his turn, to standbefore a tribunal, and the tribunal consisted of nothing but peasants,whose hair had never been clipped, who had never worn linen, who couldneither read nor write, and yet who now had the power of passing uponhim whatever sentence they chose. So they all applauded Bodza'sproposition loudly, whilst he himself, with an air of ineffableimportance, sat down on the topmost step of the staircase, and beckonedto his subordinates to lead forth the old squire.
He gave very little trouble, it was not even necessary to fetter him,for the moment he was untied from the doorpost he simply collapsed andremained lying where he had fallen.
Then they put him on an ambulance car, and thus conveyed him before theAreopagus.
One worthy peasant had compassion on the old man lying there in hisshirt exposed to the cold morning air, and covered him with his_guba_[20] yet this very man voted for his death a few moments later.
[Footnote 20: A shaggy woollen mantle worn by the Hungarian peasants.]
Meanwhile, stubbly Hanak had placed behind the old man's back a gipsybrickmaker to keep an eye on him, and touch him up with a whip if herefused to confess.
Thomas Bodza now produced the box of bismuth that had been found in thecastle, and, cautiously opening it, placed it in front of the oldsquire.
"You old sinner," said he, "answer my questions truly. Why did they sendyou so much poison?"
The old gentleman remained silent.
The gipsy savagely belaboured his dove-white head with the heavy whip.
At the sound of the blows, an angry voice suddenly resounded from behindthe master's back.
"Hold hard, hold hard! you blockheads, you brutes, you stupidnumbskulls!"
Bodza, in his terror, sprang from his seat, and the astonished multitudebeheld Dr. Sarkantyus running hastily towards them along the hall.
The worthy man had been well concealed with young Szephalmi in a blindniche, in the chimney corner, whence he had listened to the wholehorrible tragedy; but when it came to accusing someone of poisoningpeople with _his_ drugs, he could stand it no longer, but kicked openthe tapestried door, and rushed out among the rioters.
Young Szephalmi swooned with terror when his hiding-place wasdiscovered, so that they had to drag him out by the feet.
The unexpected joy of laying hands upon a couple of fresh victims whomthey had long sought in vain, whetted the appetite of the mob for moreblood. They kept pummelling Szephalmi till he came to again, and tiedthe physician back to back with Hetfalusy.
Throughout the whole tussle Dr. Sarkantyus never ceased blackguardingthe rioters for their imbecile suspicion of medical science, and triedto explain to Thomas Bodza how very much in error he was as to thecontents of the box.
Only Szephalmi displayed an utter want of dignity. He wept, he implored,he fell on his knees, and promised to confess everything if only theywould not hurt him, if only they would not kill him. _He_ was notguilty, he said, and he cursed the doctor for bringing all this mischiefon the house with his abominable drugs and betraying their hiding-placeso madly.
"Mr. Szephalmi,
" retorted Dr. Sarkantyus, "all my life long I have takenyou for a poor creature, and in that belief I shall for ever remain. Ifyou could remain quietly in your hiding-place when they were talking ofyour only daughter, if you could hold your breath and your ears andtremble in every limb when they were torturing your father-in-law--well,that's your look out. As for me, if only I can unmask a downright lie, Iam quite content to look death itself between the eyes immediatelyafter. Ever since you fainted at the prick of a leech, and were notashamed to burst into tears when I cut out one of your warts, I knew youto be a coward. Yes, a coward you are, and a very poor creature to boot;but whatever else I am, I am not that. Twice have I broken the bone ofmy own leg because it was improperly set, and I am ready to have my neckbroken into the bargain if only I may bear witness to the truth. Those,sir, are my sentiments. And now is there anybody here with whom a mancan talk common-sense?"
Bound and helpless as he was, the doctor still seemed to have made someimpression on the mob. Thomas Bodza, therefore, hastened to cut himshort.
"Then you maintain," he began, "that the gentry have _not_ poisoned thepeasants?"
"A man must be mad to even ask such a question."
"Then why are so many people now dying all over the kingdom?"
"Because of their sins. They are dying of a terrible plague which is inthe air, in the earth, in the very meat and drink which God has givenus, in the heat of the day, and in the chill of night--a plague which isno respecter of persons, but slays lord and serf, rich and poor alike;which will visit you, too, if not to-day then to-morrow, which willdestroy a tenth part of your households, which will search you outwherever you are, in the forest, in the fields, within your cottages,though you were to slay instantly every gentleman in the county. Youwill, therefore, do well to untie my hands, and let me distributeamongst you the blessed antidote, by means of which, with God'sassistance, we may be able to prevent this terrible calamity."
Thomas Bodza felt something of the paralysis of extreme terror when hesaw the impression made by these words upon the mob, which evidentlyalready began to waver. So he hastily threw himself into the attitude ofa Roman statue, and exclaimed with a loud voice:
"Doctor! I tell you you are lying. Let nobody touch that white powder,for there is death in it. If you maintain that this powder is notpoison, take some yourself!"
This proposal met with universal approbation.
"Yes, yes! let him swallow some of the stuff he has brought if it is notpoison."
The doctor did not at all relish the idea of taking his own drugs, buthe was careful not to betray his dislike, for he was in a decidedlyticklish position.
"Death comes from above," he calmly observed to the master. "Medicamentsare no food for a healthy man, but, all the same, I will willingly takesome of that bismuth powder to convince you all of the truth of mystatement."
Then Thomas Bodza proceeded to pour a paper full of the stuff down thethroat of the pinioned doctor.
The bystanders thronged around and gaped curiously at him, expectingevery moment to see him drop down dead.
"Look how green his face is!" said Bodza, working with evil intent onthe excited imagination of the mob. "Look how his eyes are staring, andhow ghastly pale he is!"
"It is not _my_ eyes that are staring, my worthy master, but your own,"replied the doctor calmly. "Your face is pale, you are trembling. I tellyou death comes from above and not from my powders."
Thomas Bodza felt so dizzy that he had to clutch hold of the arm ofshaggy Hanak, who was standing by his side. Quite early that verymorning he had felt a sort of numbing paralysis in all his limbs, asort of griping cramp convulsing his inner parts, and an unspeakablefear had arisen within his soul, but the feeling had passed over, and hehad put the thought of it away from him.
And now, again, that panic fear, which has no name, but beneath whoseinfluence the bravest of men become pale, shaking spectres, overcamehim, and he felt like one who is sensible of the approach of that oneenemy against whom there is no defence.
The physician was the first to detect in the face of his tormentor thatterrible phenomenon, _facies Hypocratica_, and when he said to him:"Your face is deathly pale," he as irrecoverably plunged him into thegrave that was gaping open for him, as if he had plunged a knife intohis heart.
The horror-stricken rioters gazed at their master who, for some moments,stood gaping at them with a terribly distorted face. There were twocoloured rings round his glassy eyes, his cheeks had fallen in, his lipswere turning yellow, the whole man seemed to be a hideouspersonification of mortal dread. Then, suddenly with a loud yell, herolled down the steps, and collapsing with hideous convulsions at thedoctor's feet, yelled in the midst of his racking torments:
"God of mercy, have compassion upon me! ... Doctor, help me! I amdying!"