Neath the Hoof of the Tartar Part 4

"I am sorry, Father, that as things are you see I can't give you quarters in my house; but the King comes before all."

As for Libor, he chose to consider that Peter had made him some sort of amends by his last speech; it pleased him much to play the part of an injured person who has accepted an apology, and he therefore at once resumed his polite manners, and bowing and smiling he replied with all due deference:

"As far as I am concerned, sir, nothing can give me greater pleasure, and since you permit me to do so, I will remain."

With another bow he left the room, not the house, which indeed he had never intended to leave, if he could help himself.

CHAPTER III.

MASTER STEPHEN'S PAGE.

Libor, as already remarked, had never had the least intention of leaving Master Peter's house so soon after his arrival as he had threatened to do, if he could by any possibility avoid doing so.

The fact was he had a little business of his own on hand, as anyone observant might have found out from his air of mystery, and the fact that, if he was on his way to Pest, he had had to come so far out of it, that Master Stephen would certainly have employed another messenger had Libor not particularly desired to come.

Master Peter was not very observant, but even he wondered in himself once or twice what the fellow wanted, and came to the conclusion that his new dignity had turned his head.

Dora wondered a little also, and felt that the young man had been impertinent, not only in his remarks, but in the way in which he had followed her about with his eyes throughout the interview.

He was not a person of much consequence, however, and both father and daughter quickly dismissed him from their thoughts.

And here, by way of explaining matters, we must mention that many years ago, when Dora was quite a tiny child, it had been settled between her father and Hedervary the Palatine, that she should marry the latter's son Paul. Hedervary was Master Peter's oldest and closest friend, one to whom he was much attached; and Dora, though no heiress, was a daughter of one of the proudest and n.o.blest houses in Hungary. The match was considered perfectly suitable, therefore, and the Hedervarys were much attached to their "little daughter," as they constantly called her. Paul himself admired and liked the bride chosen for him quite as much as was necessary, and it is needless to say that Dora's father thought him extremely fortunate in having a girl so sweet, so clever, so well-educated, so good-looking, so altogether charming, for his wife.

Dora herself no one thought of consulting. As a good, dutiful daughter, she would, of course, accept without question the husband approved by her father; and there was no denying that Paul was calculated to win any girl's admiration, for he was an imposing, gallant-looking personage, and accomplished withal. They would certainly make a handsome, even a striking pair.

Every time Paul came to stay he found Dora more attractive; and though he had never in any way alluded to his hopes, of which she was quite ignorant, he could not help feeling that she was the very bride he would choose, or rather, would have chosen for himself, but for one unfortunate defect--her small dowry! It was a very serious defect in his eyes, though his parents thought little of it, for he was ambitious. His great desire was to make a fine figure in the eyes of the world, to be admired, courted, looked up to; and though the Hedervarys were wealthy, more wealth never comes amiss to those who wish to s.h.i.+ne in society.

Was it any wonder therefore that Paul should presently begin to reflect that Dora's cousin Jolanta would suit him better than herself? Not that he liked her as well, for, though a pretty, gentle girl, she had not much character, and she was not nearly so clever and amusing; but she was an heiress, a considerable heiress, and Paul was convinced that he liked her quite well enough to make her his wife.

Dora was now nearly eighteen, and very soon he would be expected to ask her father's consent to their marriage. To Dora herself he would of course not say a word until he had her father's leave.

He was in a most difficult position, poor fellow! He was fond of Dora; and he was fond of his parents, who would be greatly vexed if he disappointed them in this matter. It was a serious thing to vex one's parents, especially when they had it in their power to disinherit one!

His father was a generous, hot-tempered soldier; he would warmly resent any insult put upon his old friend's daughter; Master Peter might resent it too, though no word had yet pa.s.sed between himself and his intended son-in-law. Truly a difficult position! But for all that, he meant to please himself, if he could safely do so.

Paul was turning these things over in his mind, and was pitying himself and racking his brains to discover some way by which his parents might be induced to take a reasonable view of things, when it occurred to him that two heads were better than one.

He was staying just now with the Szirmays at their castle, where he was always made much of, and Master Stephen was constantly arranging hunting parties and other country amus.e.m.e.nts in his honour.

Somehow, he never quite knew how it was, he found himself, during a moment of leisure, near the room occupied by one of the pages; and just for the sake of talking to somebody he went in, and was received with obsequious delight by Libor, who murmured his thanks for the great honour done him by the visit of so high and mighty a gentleman.

The little room was of the plainest description, and not too light, but the unglazed windows were at least filled in with bladder-skin, and the bare walls were painted white; the furniture consisted of a small open stove of earthenware, a roughly-made, unpainted bedstead, a primitive wooden table, and two or three stools. It was bare enough for a monk's cell, and it was unceiled, open to the roof, which appeared to consist of old boards and lattice-work of a rough description.

Libor was attired in a pair of red trousers, rather the worse for wear, and fastened round his waist by a leather strap, a waistcoat of the same colour, and a coa.r.s.e s.h.i.+rt with wide, hanging sleeves. He was wearing neither coat nor jacket, and he had a slender reed pen stuck behind his ear. There were writing materials and a book or two on the table, and the page was busy with his pen, when, to his immense surprise, there entered the haughty young n.o.ble, a tall handsome personage clad in a "dolmany" of bright blue woollen stuff which reached down to his ankles, and was not unlike a close-fitting dressing-gown.

Libor started to his feet, and bowed almost to the ground as he expressed his sense of the great man's condescension, while he wondered in his own mind to what it was due, and what was wanted of him--something, he felt pretty confident, and he was quite ready to serve such an one as Paul, who would be sure to make it worth his while.

But what could it be?

After a little beating about the bush, and a little judicious flattery, which drew forth many humble thanks for his good opinion from Libor, coupled with an expression of his hope that Mr. Hedervary would find that opinion justified if ever he should need his services, Paul at once proceeded to business.

Some men would have been disgusted to see a fellow-man, bowing, bending, and cringeing before them, as Libor was doing, but to Paul it was merely natural, and it pleased him, as showing that the clerk had a proper respect for his "betters."

"I am going to tell you something, clerk, which I have not told to another soul," began Paul, and Libor bowed again and felt as if he were on hot coals.

"You have guessed, I daresay, that I don't come here merely to pay an ordinary visit?"

Libor said nothing, judging it more prudent not to mention any surmises if he had them.

"Well, the fact is that I am here this time by desire of my parents to ask the hand of Master Peter's daughter."

Libor smiled.

"Yes, Libor, _deak_, but--well, I have the deepest respect for my parents, and I would not willingly cross their wishes, but for all that, I am of age, I am four-and-twenty, and such matters as this I should prefer to manage in my own way."

"Most natural, sir, I am sure," said Libor, with another deep bow; "marriage is an affair which--which----"

"Which needs careful deliberation, you mean; just so! And the more I consider and weigh matters, the more I feel that it is Master Stephen's daughter Jolanta who is the one for me."

"A most charming young lady! and I quite understand Mr. Hedervary's choice; and, if I might hazard the remark, I would suggest, with all possible deference, that the fair Mistress Dora is not nearly as well provided for as Mr. Stephen's daughter; though her father has a quant.i.ty of gold and silver plate, his property is not large, and he cannot give her much."

"Say 'nothing,' Libor, and you will be nearer the mark! I know it, and I am glad to see you don't try to hide anything from me. Well, of course, property never comes amiss even to the wealthiest, and 'if the master provides dinner, it is well for the mistress to provide supper,' as they say. But I had rather take Jolanta empty-handed than Dora with all the wealth of the world. I like property, I don't deny it, who does not? But I don't care a straw for Dora, and I do for Jolanta."

"Ah, then of course that settles it! But suppose Master Peter should have suspected your intentions?"

"There is just the rub! He is an old friend of my father's, and I should be sorry to hurt him; but I have made up my mind to ask for Jolanta."

"H-m, h-m," murmured the page thoughtfully. "Rather an awkward state of things, sir."

"Of course it is! but look you here, Libor, if you can help me out of it, I will make it worth your while. I know how modest and unselfish you are, but I shall be able to find you something, something which will set you up for life."

Libor's eyes sparkled. This was even more than he had looked for.

But Paul was growing rather impatient; this long interview with a person so far beneath him was distasteful to him, and he cut short the page's servile protestations of devotion and grat.i.tude. What was to be done?

that was the question.

"First make sure of Mistress Jolanta herself, before anything was said to her father," suggested Libor, "and then finish his visit and take his leave without proposing for either. Visits were not always bound to end with a proposal, and Master Peter could not possibly be hurt therefore.

As for Mr. Stephen, when the time should come to ask his consent, he would certainly not refuse such a son-in-law as the son of the Palatine.

Mr. Hedervary's parents"--Libor hesitated a little--"they could not blame him if--suppose--disappointed they might be, but they could not blame him--if he were able to say that Dora had another suitor, and one whom she preferred to himself, though Master Peter was not aware of the fact."

"H-m!" said Paul, "that would settle it, of course; but--there is none."

"No, there is not," said the clerk thoughtfully, with one of his deferential laughs, "but--we might find or invent someone."

"Find someone! Who is there?"

"Well, let us see--if--if we can invent no one else, there is myself!"