The whole family were out riding one day, a few months after their arrival. This was the recreation which they loved best, and Akos, as usual, was in attendance upon Maria. The two were somewhat in advance of the rest of the party, sufficiently so to be out of hearing, when Akos presently asked his companion whether she were beginning to be accustomed to her new home, and whether she thought she could ever learn to forget the steppes and magic woods of her native land.

"Could anyone in the world forget his own home, do you think?" she answered simply, and then added, "Oh, it is all so different! You live in stone houses, which you can't move about. One might almost as well be in prison. And the walls are so thick that one can't hear anything of what is going on outside, or even in the next room; but when we lived in our open tents, far away from here, I knew in a moment who was in trouble, and who was laughing for joy. And then our family is one; what pains one, grieves the rest, and all share one another's joys and sorrows, fears and wishes."

"And isn't it so here?" said Akos; "and if we have towns and castles, don't we live much in the open air too? Have we no family-life, and are we not all united in our love for our country?"

"I don't know; maybe it is so, but I am a stranger here, and one thing strikes me--there is no unity among you! Your proud, overbearing n.o.bles despise the people, and the people look on them with fear and envy. You are of one race, one family--at least you Magyars are, and yet there are hardly any true friends among you, or any who are ready to make great sacrifices for their country."

"You don't know us," returned Akos quickly, though he knew how much truth there was in what the girl said. "You judge from what you see around you; here in the capital there is so much gaiety, and everyone wants to be first; but it is not so in our mountains and valleys, and on the great plains. There we know what it is to love and sympathise with one another, and to be of one mind; and we are not bad neighbours. There are several different races dwelling in our beautiful land, and they all live at peace one with the other."

"Well, I don't know, but--I am afraid! I don't understand books, but I do understand faces, and there is no need for people to open their lips--I might not understand them if they did--but they speak plainly enough to me without uttering a word. _You don't love us!_ Oh! that we had stayed among the mountains, in the cool caves, or in our tents, not knowing what the morning might bring us, but with our own people all about us, ready at a word for anything! There was a sort of pleasure even in living in a state of fear, always on our guard, listening to the very rustling of the leaves. Ah! how can I make you understand?"

Maria's thoughts went back to the old times, and she saw herself once again living the old tent life in the forest shades. Perhaps her companion's thought for a moment followed hers, and he tried to picture himself as also living in those far-off regions, sharing a tent with the sweet-looking girl at his side.

Something he said to her in a low tone, to which she answered with a smile,

"Oh, you, Akos, that is different! If they were all like you, one might perhaps forget all but the things which are never to be forgotten, and the graves of our ancestors. But you, don't you know that it annoys your friends and relations to see you liking to spend so much time with us?"

"Why should my friends and relations mind? My rivals, perhaps yes!"

"There are no rivals!"

"None? not a single one?"

"Not one, Akos, for you are good; you honour my poor father in his misfortune, you honour my mother; and my brothers and Erzsebet are fond of you. How should you have any rival?"

"Marana!" said Akos gently; and when the girl turned to look at him, he saw that, though she was smiling, her eyes had filled with tears at the sound of her old name, coming from his lips.

It was an evening in autumn, and King Kuthen and all his family were gathered together in their largest apartment, where a fire was burning on the hearth, and the table was spread for their evening meal.

All looked grave; and indeed, since the time of his first arrival in Pest, in spite of all the festivities, and in spite of Bela's unfeigned kindness, Kuthen had always looked like a man who had something on his mind, something which oppressed him, and which refused to be shaken off.

As chief of an untamed, lawless people, far surpa.s.sing his followers in sense and understanding, he was the first to see that the polite attentions shown him by others than the King and his family, were all more or less forced. All was not gold that glittered, and his pride was wounded by the sort of condescension he met with from the Magyar n.o.bles, when he remembered that not so long ago he had ruled a kingdom larger than the whole of Hungary.

Something, perhaps, was due to the change in his mode of life, something to the fact that he did not feel at ease when he took part in the court ceremonials and festivities, that he felt as if he were caged, and sighed for the freedom of the mountains and steppes. However it was, Kuthen had become quite grey during the comparatively short time he had spent in Hungary, and was already showing signs of age.

His family did not fully share his anxieties, for they were not as far-sighted as he; but the Queen and her sons and daughters were shrewd enough to see that their visitors were not all as sincere as they seemed, or wished to seem; though they ascribed this chiefly to the fact that they themselves were foreigners; and, as both sons and daughters were well-looking, and the latter something more, they had little reason to complain of any want of attention or courtesy.

Just now the King was seated at table, with the Queen and his daughters on his right hand, and his sons on his left. They were all at supper; but it was evident that Kuthen ate rather from habit than because he had any appet.i.te.

As we have said, the dwelling was surrounded by a wide moat, and the only entrance was by the drawbridge. Whenever anyone wanted to come in, the Kunok sentinel posted at the bridge-head always blew a short blast on his horn, and this evening, just as supper was coming to an end, the horn was heard.

Whereupon the King made a sign to one of the many servants to go and see who was there, for he kept strict order in his household, and never allowed the drawbridge to be lowered, or anyone to be admitted without his permission.

On this occasion, however, it seemed that his permission was not waited for, as only a few moments pa.s.sed before Akos Szirmay walked into the room, and was received with evident pleasure by the King and all his family.

It was clear enough that Marana's parents quite understood the state of affairs, and already looked on the young man as one of the family; for, with the exception of King Bela, he was the only person ever admitted without question, on his merely giving the pa.s.sword.

Akos came in hurriedly, his face flushed, and with something in his manner which showed plainly that he had not come on a mere ordinary visit.

Kuthen welcomed the young man with a smile, but quickly relapsed into gravity, and Akos himself, when he had taken the seat placed for him, next to Maria, glanced at the servants and held his peace.

"What is it, Akos?" Kuthen asked after a short pause, during which his visitor's manifest embarra.s.sment had not escaped him.

"I would rather speak when there are fewer to hear me, your Highness,"

answered Akos.

All eyes were at once turned upon him, for the rising feeling against the Kunok was well known; and as the people of Pest had noticed, Kuthen had lately doubled the guards round his house. Whatever the news Akos had brought, they at once concluded that it must be something unpleasant.

"If there is any hurry," said Kuthen, who had regained his composure as soon as he scented danger, "let us go into the next room."

"No need for that, your Highness," returned Akos, also recovering himself. "In fact, if you will allow me, I will share your supper. There is no need for immediate action, but we must be prepared," he added in a low tone.

"Ah," sighed the Queen, "our soothsayers had good reason to warn us against coming here! We are in a state of constant unrest, and I am weary of it. For my part, I can't think why we did not leave this gilded prison long ago, and join our people in their new settlements, where we should at least be among those who love and honour us."

"You are right there, wife, and you all know it is what I have long wished," said Kuthen. "Where is the good of being called 'King,' when one has no kingdom? My people are being ruled by foreigners, and, though I sit at the King's Council, nothing that I say has any weight. No, what I want is to be the father of my large family again, as I used to be, until I go and join my ancestors. No, I will stay here no longer! The King has always been kind to us, and I will open his eyes to what is going on unknown to him."

But here a sign from Akos made the King hold his peace, and the subject was dropped for the present.

It was not Kuthen's way to betray anything like fear; and now when, to his imagination at least, the storm was already beginning to blow about his ears, he would not on any account that the servants should have so much as an inkling of that which filled his own mind.

He remained at table exactly as long as usual, and, when they all rose, he repeated as usual the Lord's Prayer, the only one he had learnt. He recited it in Latin, in an uncouth accent, and with sundry mistakes, but he said it calmly and collectedly as usual, and the rest followed his example.

Then, pa.s.sing between a double row of servants, he led the way through an adjoining room to the s.p.a.cious hall in which he and his family usually pa.s.sed their evenings and received their guests.

The Queen and her daughters took up some sort of needle-work, and Kuthen signed to his sons to bring him one of the many dog-wood bows which hung on the wall. This he proceeded with their help to fit with a string stout enough to deserve the name of rope, for it was as big round as an ordinary finger.

The making of these unusually long and powerful bows, the chief weapon of the Kunok, and the sharpening and feathering of the arrows, was the King's favourite occupation, and one in which he displayed no little skill. The string also was of home manufacture, and, as the work went on, the young men moistened it from time to time with water.

Many a time Akos had joined them in their evening work, but to-night, as they sat round the blazing fire, his hands were idle.

"Akos, my son, we are alone now," began Kuthen composedly, "speak out, and keep back nothing. You need not be afraid, for this grey head of mine has weathered many a storm before now."

"Your Highness--father! if I may call you so"--said Akos, giving his hand to Maria, "there is a storm coming without doubt, for the wind is blowing from two quarters at once, and we are caught between the two."

"I don't understand," said Kuthen, tw.a.n.ging the bowstring, while one son took a second bow down from the wall, and the other got a fresh string ready.

"You will directly, sir; the Mongols are coming nearer and nearer, burning and destroying everything before them--that's the last news!"

"Haven't I told the King a hundred times how it would be?"

"You have, and he knows! But there are certain persons who seem to be expecting miracles; and meantime, to excuse themselves for sitting still, they have been whispering suspicions of other people. A few hours ago they went to the King and told him plainly what was in their minds."

"Suspicions! whom do they suspect?"

"_You_, your Highness! you and your people."