The Baron's Sons Part 14

"Is my will, then, of supreme authority with you?" asked the mother.

"You know that it is my highest law," was the reply.

"Very well. Now I will tell you what my will really is. The house of Baradlay needs a master and a mistress,--a master to command and guide, a mistress with power to win hearts. A master it will find in--you."

odon started in surprise.

"You will be the master, and your wife the mistress, of this house."

The young man sighed heavily. "Mother, you know this cannot be," said he.

"Will you not marry?"

"Never!"

"Make no such rash vow. You are but twenty-four years old. You were not born to be a Carthusian monk. The world is full of pretty faces and loving hearts, and even you are sure to find one for yourself."

"You know there is none among them for me," returned the young man.

"But what if I have already found one?"

"Your quest has been in vain, mother."

"Say not so," rejoined the other, tenderly drawing her son to her side. "Can you pa.s.s judgment without first seeing? She whom I have chosen is good and beautiful, and loves you fondly."

"She may be as beautiful as a fairy and as good as an angel, with a heart more full of love than even your own; yet I care not to see her."

"Oh, do not speak so rashly; you might repent it. I am sure you will retract your words when you see her face. Come, I will show it to you in the next room."

"It will have no effect on me," declared odon.

The mother led her son to the door and let him open it and enter first. There stood Aranka, trembling with expectant happiness.

Hastening to her own room, the baroness drew from her portfolio the memorable doc.u.ment dictated to her by her dying husband, and underscored with a red pencil the lines referring to the event which that day had witnessed.

"Thus far it is accomplished," she said to herself.

CHAPTER X.

THE BETROTHAL.

It was no longer a secret, but was in everybody's mouth, that six weeks after the funeral there was to be a betrothal ceremony in the Baradlay house, and the latter was, they said, to receive a new name.

Friends and neighbours from the country around had been invited in the baroness's name to a family festival.

There was a great bustle of expectation when it was announced that the hero of the day, Benedict Rideghvary, was coming, seated in a brand-new coach which was drawn by five splendid horses. On the box was perched a magnificent hussar, who sprang down to open the carriage door and to help the great man alight with all the dignity demanded by his lofty rank and the importance of the occasion.

"My dear sir," one of the administrator's friends hastened to announce to him, with considerable concern in his tone, "I notice a good many strange faces in there."

"Very likely, Zebulon," answered the administrator, briefly.

"That is, I know the faces well enough," explained the other, "but the people are strangers to me."

"I don't understand," returned Rideghvary, with a laugh.

"Don't understand?" repeated Zebulon Tallerossy impatiently; "but you will understand as soon as you are pleased to look around. The hall is full of people belonging to the opposition; we know them, but we are not on terms of acquaintance with them."

The great man now found the matter worthy of his attention, but did not allow it to cause him undue concern. The princ.i.p.al men of the county, he said to himself, had come to pay their compliments to the son and heir, without regard to party. It was merely a conventional form, and was, he felt sure, entirely without political significance.

Nevertheless, he would have preferred not to meet in that house his inveterate opponent at the Green Table, Tormandy; but the Baradlay mansion was on that day open to all comers, of whatever party.

Among the early arrivals was the much-persecuted priest, the Reverend Bartholomew Langhy, Aranka's father, whose appearance was a surprise to many of the guests. His bearing was that of one whose part in the festivities of the day was to be of no small importance. Indeed, the preparations for a grand function were so manifest on every side that Rideghvary's good friend, Zebulon Tallerossy, soon came to him for further information.

"So there is to be a grand ceremony, is there?" he asked.

"Certainly," was the reply; "the bridegroom's spokesman goes to the bride's representative and makes formal pet.i.tion for her hand in marriage. Receiving a favourable reply, he returns to the bridegroom, the double doors are thrown open, and the retinue of ladies enters with the bride at its head. Then comes the rest of the ceremony."

"Ah, that will be a fine spectacle."

The two gentlemen then went in quest of Count Paul Galfalvy, whom the administrator had chosen to act for him in this important matter.

After shaking hands, they began to exchange witticisms over the great number of their political opponents who had a.s.sembled there to witness their enemy's triumph. Thus talking and laughing, they failed to note that Tormandy was at that moment engaged in earnest consultation with the Reverend Bartholomew Langhy. They were therefore unpleasantly surprised when Tormandy's stentorian voice fell on their ears, imposing a sudden hush on all present.

"Silence in the hall, gentlemen!" he cried. "We all know to what a glad festival we are this day invited. A new sun has risen over the house of Baradlay in the person of its new head, to whom, both for his own sake and for that of our fatherland, we heartily wish long life and prosperity. The bridegroom, whom Providence has called to be the head of this house in the vigour of his youth,--"

"He puts it rather strongly," commented Rideghvary to himself.

"--has commissioned me as his spokesman--"

"What's that?" exclaimed Rideghvary and his friends, looking at one another in amazement.

"--to ask the representative of the bride whether he gives his consent to the desired union."

By this time the administrator and those at his side were fairly dumb with astonishment. If Tormandy was spokesman for the bridegroom, what part was Paul Galfalvy supposed to play? And who was to reply for the bride? The superintendent was expected to discharge that function, but he was nowhere to be seen. The confusion became still worse confounded when the Reverend Bartholomew Langhy stepped forward in response to Tormandy's address, and in clear tones thus made answer:

"Those ordained of heaven for each other let naught but death put asunder. Let them who are already one in love be joined together in holy matrimony."

"The parson is crazy!" exclaimed Zebulon in utter bewilderment.

But the solution of the enigma was not long delayed. The double doors at the farther end of the hall were thrown open and the procession of ladies entered, led by the widow Baradlay, who presented Aranka Langhy to the a.s.sembled company as the bride. It was a beautiful sight,--the elder lady in a trailing black gown, a garnet diadem in her hair, and a long-unwonted smile lighting up her face and giving her the aspect of a beautiful queen; and the fair young bride at her side, in robe of white with white hyacinths for her ornaments and a modest blush adding its charm to her sweet maidenly dignity. Each type of beauty, so entirely opposite in character, was perfect in its kind.

There was a murmur of surprise and admiration among the guests, and all pressed forward in eager expectancy. A marble table with a gold plate on it stood near the folding doors. Over the plate was spread a lace napkin. The bridal party took their places at this table, and the priest, Aranka's father, removed the napkin from the plate, revealing two simple gold rings. One of these he then put on odon's finger, and the other on Aranka's. Finally he placed the bride's hand in the groom's. No word was spoken, there was nothing but this simple ceremony; but it was impressive in the extreme. The whole company broke into cheers, and even Zebulon Tallerossy caught himself shouting to the full capacity of his lungs; he only recognised his mistake upon meeting the glance of the administrator, who looked at him with severe disapproval, whereupon the other endeavoured to atone for his misplaced enthusiasm by acting on a brilliant suggestion that suddenly occurred to him.

"So there is to be a double betrothal," he remarked, blandly, to the would-be bridegroom; but the latter only turned his back upon him with a muttered imprecation.

Administrator Rideghvary was the first to take his departure; but before he went he had a final interview with the woman whom he had hoped to claim as his bride that day.

"Madam," said he, as he bade her farewell, "this is the last time I shall have the happiness to be the guest of the Baradlay family. I should not have believed the greatest prophet, had he foretold to me this morning what was about to occur. And yet I myself am not without the spirit of prophecy. You, madam, and your son have deviated from the course laid down for you in his dying hour by that great man, your husband and my sincere friend. That course he communicated to me before broaching the matter to you. You have chosen the very opposite path to that which he opened for you, and I beg you to remember in future what I now say: the way you have chosen leads upward, but the height to which it leads is--the scaffold!"