The Village Notary Part 33

They turned into the thicket, and the scene of their violence was left lonely and desolate.

CHAP IV.

We will not attempt to describe Susi's feelings while this scene was enacting in her immediate neighbourhood. A short time after we left her on the banks of the Black Lake, the Gulyash and Peti returned from their reconnoitering expedition. They had identified the cutting by the reeds and the tree. When they returned, they secured the horses, and prepared to cross the water again. Peti led the way. He was followed by the Gulyash, who carried Susi on his back. But they had scarcely advanced to the middle of the ford, when they were startled by the reports of fire-arms and the shouts of the combatants.

"We are too late!" cried Susi; "take me to him, and let me die at his feet!"

A second discharge of musketry was heard. Some of the fugitive peasants fled in the direction of the lake. The Gulyash and his companions were sufficiently near the sh.o.r.e to hear their steps as they ran. The Gulyash was strong in hopes.

"Never fear, Susi!" said he; "don't you hear the rascals running away.

There's not a man of them likes to come to close quarters with Viola."

Peti advanced. They reached the sh.o.r.e. But the affray recommenced in the forest. There was firing, shouting, curses, and the howling of the wounded.

Susi made a frantic rush from the side of the Gulyash; but the two men held her back. She knelt down. Her soul was full of Viola's danger. Did she not hear his enemies? Did they not seek his destruction? She would have prayed, but she could not pray. She tore her hair in the fulness of her despair,--she cursed; a light shone from the wood--a broad glaring light! The triumphant shouts of the besiegers left no doubt as to its nature and origin. Susi rose, and wrung her hands.

"They have put fire to the hut! they will burn my husband!" screamed she. She fell back, and fainted in the gipsy's arms. When she recovered, and proceeded to the scene of the contest, all was quiet and still. No sound was heard, either of the victors or their prey. The spot was covered with splinters and fragments of wood, many of which were still burning. Their faint and uncertain light added to the desolate character and the gloom of the scene.

Susi was calm. Her boding heart had known the worst long before she came to the spot, and when she had reached it she stood in silence, covering her eyes with her hands. Peti and the Gulyash stood by her side; but neither spoke a word of comfort. They felt that such would have been a mockery in that hour and at that place.

"Peti!" said Susi at last, "get a light. There's plenty of wood on the ground. I want to look for my husband." Peti sighed, and prepared to obey. The Gulyash was far more shocked by the poor woman's calmness than by her former violence. Das.h.i.+ng the tears from his eyes, he said,--

"Susi, my soul, go to that knot of trees yonder. Sit down and take your rest, while we look for him; that is to say, not for your husband, for depend upon it he wasn't here at all, but it's the others we'll look for, in case an accident has happened to one of them. Be quiet, Susi,"

continued he, taking her hand; "I know your husband was not there; I'll take my oath on it he was not!"

The poor fellow knew that what he said was an untruth. He knew that the fire which Peti was lighting would probably show them Viola's mangled corpse amidst the ruins of the building, or else that Viola must be a captive in the hands of his bitterest enemies; but gladly would he have bartered his hopes of future salvation for one ray of hope to cheer the heart of that wretched woman.

"No, Ishtvan," said Susi; "I know all,--I am prepared for the worst. You won't find me troublesome when I see him half burned. Alas! I know it is better for him to lie dead in my arms, than to be alive and in the power of his enemies. Here, at least, his sufferings are ended."

"But why won't you believe me, if I tell you that Viola was not here?

I'll be cursed if he was! Why the devil will you walk about in the smoke, looking for what you are sure not to find? This isn't a place for a woman; and if you were suddenly to set your eyes on something nasty you'd be the worse for it. Go back, Susi, I'll promise you we'll turn every stone in the place."

"I thank you, Ishtvan,--I thank you a thousand times for all you do for me," said Susi; "fear nothing: you see I am strong; and whatever may meet my eyes, it will but give me certainty, which is the best that can happen to me. If my husband be dead, we will bury him here in the forest. I shall know the place of his rest, and I can show it to my children, and weep with them."

"But I tell you Viola is not here," said the Gulyash. "Just suppose you were to see a fellow all scorched and burnt? I'll tell you it's not a sight for women. Why, if you were in good health I wouldn't mind it.

Two years ago, when there was a fire in my Tanya, no less than two of my children were burnt to death; and my Lady Kishlaki, when she saw the poor things all black and----"

"I am not a My-lady. The like of her have a right to be shocked and to faint. I am a robber's wife, you know. I say, old man, if you could know what thoughts there have been in this poor head of mine ever since Viola became a robber, what dreams mine were when waiting for my husband the livelong day, or the long weary night, at home or on the heath; and when he did not come what horrible things I have thought of, and felt and wailed over,--oh, if you could but know it, as I am sure you can never know it, you'd not fear to see me shocked at any thing. The very worst that can happen to me is but _one_ kind of misfortune; but I have suffered all torments of h.e.l.l, and for long, long years too!"

The gipsy had meanwhile lighted a fire; and Susi walked over the ground.

By the door lay the corpse of the St. Vilmosh peasant, who was shot at the inspector's side. Several other bodies were found at some distance, near the forest. Susi looked at them with intense anxiety; and then seizing a torch, she hastened forward, and held it over the ruins of the hut.

The sight was such, that even the old Gulyash himself shuddered. The fragments of the table still smouldering, muskets and pistols strewed about, and the two blackened corpses, presented so repulsive a spectacle, that none could have resisted its influence, but those who are accustomed to the horrors of war. Susi examined the corpses, and said at length:

"He is not here. Neither of them has a silver ring on any of their fingers. Viola would never have lost his silver ring. My husband is a prisoner!"

"Nonsense! I dare say he----"

"What is this?" said Susi, stooping down and taking a double-barrelled gun from the ground; "that's my husband's gun! take it, and keep it for his sake."

"I will. Whenever I find him, he'll have his gun."

"May G.o.d bless you for your good will!" continued Susi, "to accompany me further would put you in danger. Peti will come with me to St. Vilmosh, for it is there, I am sure, my husband is."

They separated. The Gulyash returned to his horses, while Susi and Peti hastened to St. Vilmosh, where the first burst of excitement at the capture of the robbers had by this time subsided. The justice and the attorney had gone to bed. The villagers who had taken part in the expedition had, some of them, retired to rest; while the others drowned their cares and the recollection of their dangers in the bad wine of the public-houses. Viola, whom they had put under the shed of the council-house, where he was guarded by a chosen body of haiduks and peasants, had fallen asleep.

The wretched man awoke to consciousness as they dragged him through the forest to St. Vilmosh; and looking round, by the fitful glare of the torches which the Pandurs carried, he became sensible of his desperate condition. His thoughts returned at once to Tengelyi's papers. When he left the burning hut, he was so confused, so blinded, so maddened, that he had no idea of what had become of them, or who had taken them from him. He questioned his escort; but those whom he asked refused to reply to his questions. One man only told him, when he left the hut, the persons next to him had been the justice and the attorney; and that one of them had indeed s.n.a.t.c.hed a parcel from his hand.

From the moment Viola found himself in the power of his enemies, he made no resistance to any thing they did to him. The violence and ill-treatment to which they subjected him elicited no complaint from his lips. When they came to St. Vilmosh, where they placed him under the shed, the justice stepped up and told them to bind him so as to wound his hands, to prevent his escape. Viola asked him what had become of the papers? But the justice replied, with many oaths, that he had no business to ask any questions; and what the devil he meant? Viola saw clearly that Mr. Skinner was prepared to deny any knowledge of the papers; or else that they must have fallen into the hands of Mr.

Catspaw, who, from his previous exertions to obtain them, was not likely to restore them to the rightful owner.

"For this then did I surrender! for this I am going to be hanged!"

sighed he, when they left him alone with his sentinels,--"why did I not stay in the hut? Why did I not shoot myself, as Ratz Andor did? All is over for them; but I must die an infamous death--and for no purpose too!

I could not save the notary's papers. G.o.d cursed me in the hour of my birth! Did I not often attempt to return to the paths of honesty? and when every means of doing so was taken away from me, did I not do all I could to prove my grat.i.tude for the only kindness that was ever shown me? Did I not do my best to help the notary? And what has come of it?

No, G.o.d will not allow me to be good and honest; and I must die on the gallows! Very well, what must be, must be! a man cannot oppose his fate!"

Thoughts like these, joined to that feeling of la.s.situde which follows extreme fatigue, restored Viola to his usual calmness; and a deep sleep buried the misfortunes of the day, for a time, in forgetfulness. Peti, who, leaving Susi at a distance from the village, proceeded alone to the council-house, found him in this condition. He was not allowed to enter the yard; for, by the express order of the justice, even the sentinels were forbidden to speak to Viola, or to reply to any of his questions.

But Peti conversed with a sentinel at the gate, whom he told that he was just come back from Dustbury. The man, in his turn, told him of the capture of Viola, and that the robber was to be brought to Kishlak, where the court-martial was to a.s.semble; and likewise, that a horseman had been sent to Dustbury to summon old Kishlaki, who was the president of the court-martial in this district. The gipsy cast a rueful look at the shed where Viola lay on the floor, and turning away, he hastened to the place where he had left Susi.

"Have you seen him?" said she, hastening to meet him when he approached.

"I have. He is in the council-house."

"Is he _in_ the house?"

"No!--that is to say, not wholly. No--not in the house. Under the shed, you know."

"In the open air!" cried Susi, wringing her hands. "Oh, G.o.d! and the night is so cold; and he in the open air!"

"No! not in the open air--at least not quite. There's a roof to the shed."

"Has he a bunda?" continued Susi. And as she spoke she stripped herself of her own wrapper. "Tell me if he has not, for I wish to send him this."

"Oh, but he has! He has a large bunda. He is asleep." Susi grasped the gipsy's hand.

"Asleep? Did you say asleep? And do they see him sleeping? And you're sure they think it is sound, genuine sleep? They do not suspect him of pretending to sleep--do they?"

"But why should they suspect him of that?"

"What do they think of it? Can they not see that my husband is innocent?

Who ever heard of a criminal's sleeping? Speak, Peti--tell me--what do they say to it?"

Peti answered that he had not spoken to anybody, but that there were some hopes of Viola's escape. He added: