"d.a.m.n you soft sawder!" murmured Apafi between his teeth. "My lord," he resumed, "would you carry away with you a sick woman whom only the most tender care can bring back from the sh.o.r.es of Death, and who, if she were now to set out for Buda, would never reach it, for she would die on the way?"

Olaj Beg piously raised his hands to Heaven.

"Life and death are inscribed above in the Book of Thora, and if it there be written in letters embellished with roses and tulips that Mariska St.u.r.dza must die to-morrow, or the day after to-morrow, die she will most certainly, though she lay upon musk and were anointed with the balm of life, and neither the prayers of the saints nor the lore of the Sages could save her--but if it be written that she is to live, then let the Angels of Death come against her with every manner of weapon and they shall not harm her."

Apafi saw that he would have to speak very plainly to this crafty old man.

"Worthy Olaj Beg! you know that this realm has a const.i.tution which enjoins that the Prince himself must not issue ordinances in the more weighty matters without consulting his counsellors. Now, the present case seems to me to be so important that I cannot inform you of my resolution till I have communicated it to my council."

"It is well, my dear son, I have no objection. Speak with those servants of thine whom thou hast made thy masters; sit in thy council chamber and let the matter be well considered as it deserves to be; and if thereafter ye decide that the Princess shall accompany me, I will take her away and take leave of thee with great honour; but if it should so fall out that ye do not give her up to me, my dear son, or should allow her to escape from me--then will I take thee instead of her, together with thy brave counsellors, my sweet son."

The Beg said these words in the sweetest, tenderest voice, as old grandfathers are wont to address their grandchildren, and descending from his pillows he stroked the Prince's face with both his hands, and kissed him on the temples with great good will, quite covering his head with his long white beard.

Apafi felt as if the whole room were dancing around him. He did not speak a word, but turned on his axis and went right out. He himself did not know how he got through the first door, but by the time he had shut the second door behind him he bethought him that he was still the Prince of Transylvania, and by descent one of the first n.o.blemen of the land, whereas Olaj Beg was only a nasty, dirty Turkish captain, who had been a camel-driver in the days of his youth, and yet had dared to speak to him, the Prince, like that! By the time he had reached the third door he had reflected that in the days when he was nothing but the joint-tenant of Ebesfalu, if Olaj Beg had dared to treat him so shamefully, he would have broken his bald head for him with a stout truncheon. But had he not just such a stout truncheon actually hanging by his side? Yes, he had!

and he would go back and strike Olaj Beg with it, not exactly on the head perhaps, but, at any rate, on the back that he might remember for the rest of his life the _stylus curialis_ of Transylvania.

And with that he turned back from the third door with very grave resolves.

But when he had re-opened the second door he bethought him once more that such violence might be of great prejudice to the realm, and besides, there was not very much glory after all in striking an old man of eighty. But at any rate he would tell him like a man what it had not occurred to him to say in the first moment of his surprise.

So when he had opened the first door and was in the presence of Olaj Beg, he stood there on the threshold with the door ajar, and said to him in a voice of thunder:

"Hearken, Olaj Beg! I have come back simply to tell you----"

Olaj Beg looked at him.

"What dost thou say, my good son?"

"This," continued Apafi in a very much lower key, "that it will take time to summon the council, for Beldi lives at Bodola, Teleki at Gernyeszeg, Csaky at Deva, and until they come together you can do what you think best: you may remain here or go"--and with that he turned back, and only when he had slammed to the door he added--"to h.e.l.l!"

CHAPTER XV.

THE WOMEN'S DEFENCE.

This incident was the occasion of great affliction to the Estates of Transylvania. The counsellors a.s.sembled at the appointed time at the residence of the Prince, who at that moment would have felt happier as a Tartar captive than as the ruler of Transylvania.

On the day of the session everyone appeared in the council chamber with as gloomy a countenance as if he were about to p.r.o.nounce his own death-warrant.

They took their places in silence, and everyone took great care that his sword should not rattle. There were present: old John and young Michael Bethlen, Paul Beldi, Caspar Kornis, Ladislaus Csaky, Joshua Kapi, and the protonotarius, Francis Sarpataky. For the Prince, there had just been prepared a new canopied throne, with three steps; it was the first time he had sat on it. Beside it was an empty arm-chair, reserved for Michael Teleki.

As soon as the guard of the chamber announced that the counsellors had a.s.sembled, the Prince at once appeared, accompanied by Michael Teleki and Stephen Nalaczi.

It could be seen from the Prince's face that for at least two hours Teleki had been filling his head with talk. Nalaczi greeted everyone present with a courtly smile, but n.o.body smiled back at him. Teleki, with cold gravity, led the Prince to the throne. The latter on first looking up at the throne, stood before it as if thunderstruck, and seemed to be deliberating for a moment whether it ought not to be taken away and a simple chair put in its place. But after thinking it well out he mounted the steps, and, sighing deeply, took his seat upon it.

Michael Teleki stood silent in his place for some time, as if he was collecting his thoughts. His eyes did not travel along the faces of those present as they generally did to watch the effect of his words, but were fixed on the clasp of his kalpag, and his voice was much duller than at other times, often sinking to tremulous depths, except when he pulled himself together and tried to give it a firmer tone.

"Your Highness, your Excellencies,--G.o.d has reserved peculiar trials for our unfortunate nation. One danger has scarce pa.s.sed over us when we plump into another; when we try to avoid the lesser perils, we find the greater ones directly in our path, and we end in sorrow what we began in joy. Scarcely have we got over the tidings of the battle of St. Gothard (we had our own melancholy reasons for not partic.i.p.ating therein), and the consequent annihilation of the far-reaching designs of the Turkish Empire, by the peace contracted between the two great Powers, amidst whose quarrels our unhappy country is buffeted about as if between hammer and anvil, when we have a fresh and still greater occasion for apprehension. For the generals of the Turkish Sultan impute the loss of the battle to the premature flight of Prince Ghyka, and at the same time hold us partly responsible for it--and certainly, had our soldiers stood in the place of the Wallachian warriors, although they would not have liked fighting their fellow-Magyars, nevertheless, if once they had been in for it, they would not have ran away and so the battle would not have been lost--wherefore the wrath of the Sublime Sultan was so greatly kindled against both the neighbouring nations, that he sent his cava.s.ses to seize the Prince of Moldavia and carry him in chains to Stambul with his whole family. As for Transylvania, but for the mercy of G.o.d and the goodwill of certain Turkish statesmen, we might have seen it suddenly converted into a sandjak or province, and a fez-wearing Pasha on the throne of his Highness. Now it has so happened that the Prince of Moldavia, wresting himself and his wife out of the hands of their pursuers, took the shortest road to Transylvania. We sent a message to them that on no account were they to try to come here, as their flight would cost us more than a Tartar invasion. The Prince, therefore, took refuge in the mountains, but let his wife continue her journey, and, in an evil hour for us and herself, she arrived here a few days ago with the knowledge and under the very eyes of the Sultan's plenipotentiary.

The husband having escaped, the whole wrath of the Sultan is turned upon the wife and upon us also if we try to defend her. What, then, are we to do? If we had to choose between shame and death, I should know what to say; but here our choice is only between two kinds of shame: either to hand over an innocent, tender woman, who has appealed to us for protection, or see a Turkish Pasha sitting on the throne of the Prince!"

"But there's a third course, surely," said Beldi, "by way of pet.i.tion?"

"I might indeed make the request," interrupted Apafi, "but I know very well what answer I should get."

"I do not mean pet.i.tioning the envoy," returned Beldi. "Who would humiliate himself by pet.i.tioning the servant when he could appeal to the master?"

At this Apafi grew dumb; he could not bring forward the fact that he had already pet.i.tioned the servant.

"I believe that Beldi is right," said young Michael Bethlen, "and that is the only course we can take. I am well acquainted with the mood of an eastern Despot when he gets angry, and I know that at such times it is nothing unusual for him to level towns to the ground and decapitate viceroys; but fortunately for Transylvania it is situated in Europe, where one state has some regard for another, and it is the interest of all the European kingdoms to maintain a free state between themselves and the Ottoman Empire, even if it be only a small one like Transylvania. And it seems to me that if our pet.i.tion be supported at Stambul by the French, Austrian, and Polish amba.s.sadors, there will be no reason for the Sultan, especially after such a defeat as the last one, to send a Pasha to Transylvania. And, finally, if we show him that our swords have not rusted in their scabbards, and that we know how to draw them on occasion, he will not be disposed to do so."

The youth's enthusiastic speech began to pour fresh confidence into the souls of those who heard him, and their very faces appeared to brighten because of it.

Teleki shook his head slowly.

"I tell your Excellencies it will be a serious business," said he. "I am obliged to arouse you from an agreeable dream by confronting you with a rigorous fact. Europe has not the smallest care for our existence; we only find allies when they have need of our sacrifices; let us begin to pet.i.tion, and they know us no more. It is true that at one time I said something very different, but time is such a good master that it teaches a man more in one day than if he had gone through nine schools. In consequence of the battle of St. Gothard, peace has been concluded between the two Emperors. I have read every article of it, every point, and we are left out of it altogether, as if we were a nation quite unworthy of consideration. Yet the French, the English, and the Polish ministers were there, and I can say that not one of them received so much pay from his own court as he received from us. If they want war, oh! then we are a great and glorious nation; but when peace is concluded they do not even know that we are there. In war we may lead the van, but in the distribution of rewards we are left far behind. And now the Pasha of Buda, who is bent upon our destruction and would like to set a pasha over Transylvania, after the last defeat, has sent down Yffim Beg to us to go from village to village demanding why the arrears of taxes have not been paid, and then he is coming to the Prince to ask the cause of the remissness and threaten him with the vengeance of the Pasha of Buda."

There was a general murmur of indignation.

"Ah, gentlemen, let us confess to each other that we play at being masters in our own home, but in fact we are masters there no longer. We may trust to our efforts and rely upon our rights, but we have none to help us; we have no allies either on the right hand or on the left; we have only our masters. We may change our masters, but we shall never win confederates. The Power which stands above us is only awaiting an opportunity to carry out its designs upon us, and no one could render it a better service in Transylvania than by raising his head against it. We have all of us a great obligation laid upon us: to recognise the little we possess, take care to preserve it, and, if the occasion arise, insist upon it. It is true that while the sword is in our hands we may defend all Europe with it; but let our sword once be broken and our whole realm falls to pieces and the heathen will trample upon us in the sight of all the nations. We shall bleed for a half-century or so, and n.o.body will come to our a.s.sistance; the gates of our realm will be guarded by our enemies; and, like the scorpion in a fiery circle, we shall only turn the bitterness of our hearts against ourselves. Do you want reasons, then, why we should not defend those hunted creatures who seek a refuge with us? The World and Fate have settled their accounts with us; this realm is left entirely to its own devices. Matters standing thus, if we refuse to deliver up to Olaj Beg the above-mentioned Princess of Moldavia, the armies of the Pashas of Buda and Grosswardein will instantly receive orders to reduce Transylvania to the rank of a va.s.sal state of the Porte. There is no room here for regret or humanity, self-preservation is our one remaining duty and the duty of self-preservation demands that where we have no choice, we should do voluntarily what we may be forced to do."

Teleki had scarce finished these words than an attendant announced that the Princess of Moldavia requested admittance into the council chamber.

Apafi would have replied in the negative, but Teleki signified that she might as well come in.

A few moments later the attendant again appeared and requested permission for the ladies of the Princess's suite to accompany their mistress, as she was too weak to walk alone.

Teleki consented to that also.

The counsellors cast down their eyes when the door opened. But there is a sort of spell which forces a man to look in the very direction in which he would not, in which he fears to look, and lo and behold! when the door opened and the hunted woman entered with her suite, a cry of astonishment resounded from every lip. For of what did the woman's suite consist? It consisted of the most eminent ladies of Transylvania. The wives and daughters of all the counsellors present accompanied the unfortunate lady, foremost among them being the Princess and Dame Michael Teleki, on whose shoulders she leaned; and last of all came old Dame Bethlen, with dove-white hair. All the most respectable matrons, the loveliest wives, and fairest maidens of the realm were there.

The unfortunate Princess, whose pale face was full of suffering, advanced on the arms of her supporters towards the throne of the Prince.

Her knees tottered beneath her, her whole body trembled like a leaf, she opened her lips, but no sound proceeded from them.

"Courage, my child," whispered Anna Bornemissza, pressing her hand; whereupon the tears suddenly burst from the eyes of the unfortunate woman, and, breaking from her escort, she flung herself at the feet of the Prince, embracing his knees with her convulsive arms, and raising towards him her tear-stained face, exclaimed with a heart-rending voice: "Mercy! ... Mercy!"

A cold dumbness sat on every lip; it was impossible for a time to hear anything but the woman's deep sobbing. The Prince sat like a statue on his throne, the steps of which Mariska St.u.r.dza moistened with her tears.

The silence was painful to everyone, yet n.o.body dared to break it.

Teleki smoothed away his forelock from his broad forehead, but he could not smooth away the wrinkles which had settled there. He regretted that he had given occasion to this scene.

"Mercy!" sobbed the poor woman once more, and half unconsciously her hand slipped from Apafi's knees. Aranka Beldi rushed towards her and rested her declining head on her own pretty childlike bosom.

Then Anna Bornemissza stepped forward, and after throwing a stony glance upon all the counsellors present, who cast down their eyes before her, looked Apafi straight in the face with her own bright, penetrating, soul-searching eyes, till her astonished husband was constrained to return her glance almost without knowing it.

"My pet.i.tion is a brief one," said Dame Apafi in a low, deep, though perfectly audible voice. "An unfortunate woman, whom the Lord of Destiny did not deem to be sufficiently chastened by a single blow, has lost in one day her husband, her home, and her property; she implores us now for bare life. You see her lying in the dust asking of you nothing more than leave to rest--a pet.i.tion which Dzengis Khan's executioners would have granted her. That is all she asks, but we demand more. The destiny of Transylvania is in your hands, but its honour is ours also; ye are summoned to decide whether our children are to be happy or miserable.

But speak freely to us and say if you wish them to be honourable men or cowards. And I ask you which of us women would care to bear the name of a Kornis, a Csaky, or an Apafi, if posterity shall say of the bearers of these names that they surrendered an innocent woman to her heathen pursuers and constrained their own sons thereby to renounce the names of their fathers? Look not so darkly upon me, Master Michael Teleki, for my soul is dark enough without that. An unhappy woman is on her knees before you, hoping that she will find you to be men. The women of Transylvania stand before you, hoping to find you patriots. We beg you to have compa.s.sion for the sake of the honour of our children."