CHAPTER VI.
I AM THE KING'S PAGE!
Soon after the conversation recorded in the last chapter, Miska was sentback again to Visegrad to take his place, and learn his duties as king'spage; and the king had bidden him be diligent and learn all that hecould, promising to do something more for him as soon as he could readand write.
As to what had been done with Mr. Samson, and whether his little friendMiss Esther had been released from captivity, he heard nothing, thoughhe often thought and wondered and wished; and if he had dared, he wouldhave asked to be allowed to go back to the castle and show her that hehad not forgotten his promise.
Before setting out for Buda, he had shown his friend the Jew the secretway in and out of the castle; and as Mr. Samson had the keys of thevarious gates upon him, the king's soldiers would of course have nodifficulty in getting in and surprising the garrison at any time. Ifonly he had been a soldier, he might have gone with them; and evenwithout being a soldier, he might have gone with them to act as guide,if only the king had thought of it. He had not dared to venture backafter his capture of Mr. Samson, for fear he should not be allowed toget out again and give his report to the king; and now no doubt the Jew,who did not care anything at all about it, would be sent in his place.Well, it did not much matter after all, so long as Miss Esther were setfree, and that the king had promised she should be.
So now Miska was in Visegrad again, not a little proud of his smartlivery, and greatly enjoying his comfortable quarters after the rough,hard life which he had led. But these, after all, were very secondarymatters; the great thing was that he was in the king's service, and mustdo all that lay in his power to please him.
"I am page to King Matthias," said he to himself over and over again."The king called me his 'little brother' and 'gossip,' and the king willbe ashamed if his gossip is a donkey and does not know the A B C. Ah,you just wait, gossip-king! for I will distinguish myself. I will makeyou open your eyes and your mouth too!"
Miska was a gay-tempered fellow, as lively as gunpowder, and it was vainto expect from him the sober, plodding diligence which belongs to calmerand tamer natures.
If the truth must be told, Miska did not care very greatly about hisreading and writing for their own sakes. He did his best with them toplease the king, but he was glad enough when his time for study was overfor the day, and enjoyed the few hours he was able to spend in theriding-school much more than he did the daily appearance of hiswearisome teacher, who came as true to his time as the most obstinate offevers.
When the king's riding-master clapped him on the shoulder and said,"Michael, you are a man! 'Raven' or 'Swan' carried you well to-day, andcouldn't manage to throw you," he was pleased indeed; but he was muchmore glad when his teacher said, "Come, Mr. Michael, I declare you aregetting on like pepper! If you go on like this, I shall come to you fora lesson in a couple of months' time."
Miska could read, and write a very fair hand, before he knew where hewas; but though writing rather amused him, he took no pleasure orinterest in the books in which he learned to read. It always cost him astruggle to keep his temper during lesson-time, and occasionally he feltsuch an irresistible inclination to go to sleep, that his teacher wasobliged to rouse him by a friendly twitch or two.
There were some Italian servants in the stable-yard here, very livelyfellows, whose sprightliness Miska found so attractive that he was quitevexed at being shut out from their society. They were constantlylaughing and in good spirits; but when Miska wanted to join in thelaugh, they would say in broken Hungarian, "How could they tell all overagain what it was they were laughing at so much?" "You learn Italian,_mio caro_, and then you can laugh with us."
"Good!" thought Miska. "If these whipper-snappers, whose mouths arealways pinched up like funnels, can learn a few words of Hungarian, I'llsoon learn their language. Why," reasoned Miska, "I was only a year oldwhen I began to learn Hungarian, and they say I could talk like a magpieby the time I was two; and now--when I am eighteen, and have got alittle down shading my upper lip--can't I learn Italian, when thesewhipper-snappers could talk it when they were three years old?"
Miska's reasoning was somewhat peculiar, but it was not altogether amissafter all. He began by asking his friends what to call the objects abouthim; and his good memory served him so well that in a short time he knewthe names of most of the implements and different sorts of work which hehad to do with.
Six months passed away; but Matthias had a good many other and moreimportant matters to think of than the beggar lad, and he had not oncebeen in Visegrad since Miska had been there.
"So much the better," thought Miska; "he will come some time, and then Ishall know all the more. If only there were not this learning! But it isno good; it has got to be. And yet why? A little page like me is as wiseas an owl if he can read and write, and what does he want with more? Ican read and write too.--Hm," he thought to himself, "the man whoinvented writing--what the thunderbolt did he invent it for? What goodcould it do him? Well, it made him able to read books."
And then presently he muttered, "Donkey! If the king were to hear thatnow! Well, to be sure, as if there _were_ any books when nobody couldwrite! Then they invented it that they might write--that is morereasonable; but what is the use of writing when a man does not know howto write books?"
Miska battered his brains in vain to try to make out why it wasnecessary for him to learn to read, and what good his wisdom would dohim.
One day the governor put a book in his hands. "Here," said he, "littlebrother Michael, you know how to read now, and the king's reader is ill.Suppose you were to try and get his place; it would be a fine thing foryou."
"Reader!" said Miska. "Do I want his place? What should I gain by it? Itwould be a great deal better if I could go out hunting sometimes; myeyes see green when the horns are sounded, and here I have to be'selling acorns.'"[8]
[Footnote 8: Sticking at home.]
"That will come, too, in time, Michael," said the governor; "but nowgive your attention to this book. There are some very fine stories init, and I should like, when His Highness the King comes, to have someone who can read well and intelligently to him; for His Highness saysthat I read like a Slovack clerk, and yet none of my family were everSlovacks, or ever lived on _kasa_."[9]
[Footnote 9: _Kasa_, the chief food of the Slovack peasants, is made ofmillet or potatoes boiled in milk.]
What was to be done? At first Michael read the book with reluctance, andmerely because he was obliged to do so; but later on he became more andmore interested. Presently he felt as if at last he knew what was thegood of writing and reading.
When he had read the book to the end, he actually asked for another; andat last, whenever he had any spare time, he crept away and seatedhimself in one of the pretty arbours of the castle garden, and read ashard as if he were to be paid for it.
If Miska had been like many another lad, he would have seen pretty wellthe whole of his career by this time. There was nothing more to be done;for a page who can read and write, and swallows books as eagerly as apelican does fish, already knows more than enough for his position. Forthese things are often rather a hindrance to his riding and otherduties, and it is not his business to give an account of the books hereads, but of the work entrusted to him to do. The governor trusted allsorts of things to Miska, however.
"Eh," Miska began to think to himself, "I am not cut out for a page now.These second-rank pages are really not much better than grooms, and thegovernor still expects me to clean the king's two favourite horses.Why, I'm sure I know as much as Galeotti himself by this time, and I canspeak Italian too."
But still the king did not come, and Miska went on learning; for eversince he had taken to reading books, his mind had begun to grow and hadgone on growing, and he saw a good many things in a very different lightnow from what he had done formerly. Now, indeed, if the king asked himagain, he could say that he should like to be something better than hewas.
For a long time he went on rac
king his brains trying to make up his mindwhat he should do; and at last one day, when he had faithfully done allhis duties, he sat down and wrote a letter to the king as follows:--
"MR. KING, YOUR HIGHNESS,--I can read and write, and I can jabber Italian too, when necessary.
"Please, Your Highness, to have the horses in my charge brought to Buda; for I'm sure you never rode such--they have improved so in my hands.
"May God bless you! Come some time to Visegrad, and let me kiss your hands and feet.--Your poor, humble servant,
TORNAY MICHAEL.
"_P.S._--Brave Mr. King, if Your Highness could find a place for me in the Black Legion, I would thank you indeed, and you would not regret it either."
When King Matthias read this letter, he laughed aloud, well pleased.
"See," said he, showing the letter to those who were standing near him."This was a ragged beggar lad--perhaps by this time I should have had tohave him hanged. As it is, I have gained a man in him.--Zokoly," said heto the young knight who was just then with him, "fetch the boy here; andif he is up to the mark, put him into a coat of mail and then bring himto me. But I will answer his letter first, for he might abuse my fatherand mother for my bad manners if I were to leave it unnoticed."
The king wrote as follows:--
"All good to you from God, Miska. As you can read and write, I meant to make a precentor of you, good boy; but if you wish to join the Black Legion instead, no matter. Mount one of the horses you have had charge of, and lead the other hither. Mind what you are about, and don't get drunk.--Your well-wisher,
"KING MATTHIAS."
No first fiddle, no Palatine even, in all this wide world could thinkhimself a greater man than Michael did when the king's letter, writtenwith his own hand, was given to him.
He threw himself into the governor's arms in a transport of joy, andthen, when he had made himself clean and tidy and put on his bestclothes--well, then, there was no keeping him. He would neither eat nordrink, and in a little while he was off, riding one of the horses andleading the other; and as he went he said, "God keep King Matthias!"repeating the words over and over again. "Let him only get into somegreat trouble one day, just to let me show that there is a gratefulheart under this smart dolmany."
When Zokoly presented the lad to the king clad in the stern, manly garbof the Black Legion--wearing, that is to say, a network coat of blackmail, with a heavy sword by his side, and a round helmet on hishead--Matthias was quite surprised.
The king, as has been said, possessed the rare gift of being able toread men, and seldom made a mistake in his choice of those whom he tookinto his service. And now as he cast a searching glance at the boy'snoble countenance, and noticed the open, honourable expression of hispiercing eyes, and above all the broad forehead which was so full ofpromise, the great king--for great he was, though not yet at thepinnacle of his greatness--the great king felt almost ashamed to see thelad standing before him in the garb of a common soldier, as if he weremerely one of the ordinary rank and file. The jest with which he hadbeen about to receive him died away unuttered on his lips. But hewelcomed his man good-naturedly, and said,--
"Michael Tornay, from this day forth you are ennobled. I will give youthe parchment to-morrow, and I will make a landed proprietor of you."
The lad believed in King Matthias as if he had been some altogethersuperior being; he was ardently, passionately attached to him, but hesaid nothing.
To tell the truth, he felt more confused than grateful; for the new-madenoble, the private of the Black Legion, had just so much delicacy offeeling that he was much more flattered by the king's treating himseriously than he would have been by jests and teasing.
For the moment he could not get out a word. There was a mist before hiseyes; and after a long pause--for the king himself was touched by theeffect of his words--the young man came to himself, and dropping uponone knee said, "Your Highness has made a man of me, and I trust in Godthat you will never, never repent it!" Few and simple words, but theking was so well pleased with them, and so confirmed in his previousopinion, that at that moment he would have dared to trust the boy withthe command of the castle of Visegrad.
A week later, after a battle in which Michael had taken part, Matthiasmade the boy an officer in the famous Black or Death Legion--so calledfrom the colour of its armour and the skull-like shape of itshelmets--which was under the command of the king himself.
King Matthias and the Beggar Boy Page 6
