CHAPTER II.
MISKA THE BEGGAR BOY.
The beggar boy stopped for a moment to roll the purse up carefully in arag, and to put it and the letter away in the pocket of his dilapidatedold jacket. This done he ran on again quickly.
But he was hungry, desperately hungry, famishing--his eyes were startingout of his head; and though he had been much cheered by the liberalpresent he had received, a good hunch of bread would really have beenworth a hundred times as much to him just at this moment. He could thinkof nothing but the nearest wayside inn.
People who have never known what it is to be more than just hungryenough to have a good appetite, have no idea what the pangs of hungerare, nor what keen pain it is to be actually starving.
Never in his life had he felt such an intense craving as he did now fora plate of hot food and a draught of good wine. He had to summon up allhis failing strength, or he would have been quite exhausted before hecaught sight of the first roof away in the distance. But when he didcatch sight of it, though it was still far off, it put new life intohim; and as he hurried on, he could think of nothing but the meal he wasgoing to have. What a sumptuous dinner he gave himself in imagination!It was like a dream without an end, too good to be believed.
At last he stood before the little inn. The chimney was smoking awaymerrily, and his mouth positively watered as he turned towards thesignboard.
All at once, however, he came to a dead halt, struck by a suddenthought.
For a few moments his feet seemed to be rooted to the ground; then hemuttered to himself, "Didn't that good gentleman, who has made a richman of me, say that the business he entrusted me with was of importance,and that he was in a hurry about it? This is the first important thing Ihave ever been trusted with; and the gentleman was so honourable, andput such confidence in me, and I want to sit down to a feast! It is sixmonths since a drop of wine has touched my lips, and the devil nevergoes to sleep: I might drink myself as drunk as a dog!"
His right foot was still turned towards the inn, and his eyes wereadoringly fixed on the beautiful blue smoke issuing from the chimney. Hefelt just as if he were bound hand and foot, and a dozen horses were alltugging at him, dragging him to the wineshop.
"I _won't_ go!" said he to himself, sadly but firmly. "It's not thefirst time I have known what it is to be hungry for twenty-four hours;and he is in a hurry--it's important business."
With that he stepped up to the entrance of the low white house, daringhimself, as it were, to go any further, asked for some bread, which hepaid for and began to devour at once, drank a good draught of water fromthe well-bucket, and then ran on as if the Tatars were at his heels, oras if he were afraid to trust himself any longer in such a dangerousneighbourhood.
No royal banquet could have been more delicious than that hunch of drybread seemed to him, and something in the beggar boy's heart cheered himmore than even the best Tokay would have done.
"Miska,[5] you're a man!" he said to himself. "I shall soon be inVisegrad, where I shall feast like a lord. I don't know how it is, butI declare I feel better satisfied with this bit of bread than if I hadeaten a whole yard of sausage."
[Footnote 5: Short for Mihaly = Michael.]
But Visegrad was still a long way off--long, that is, when the journeyhad to be made on foot; for the castle stood on a hill on the Danube,just where the river makes a sudden bend to the south. On the hillside,under the wing of the old fortress, stood a palace built by one of theformer kings of Hungary, which is said to have been equal in splendourto Versailles or any other of the most magnificent palaces of Europe;for with its three hundred and fifty rooms it could accommodate twokings, several foreign dukes and marquises, with their respectivesuites, all at the same time.
The floor of the great hall was paved with valuable mosaics, the ceilingwas adorned with Italian frescoes, and the gardens, with their musicalfountains, brilliant flower-beds, and marble statues, were declared tobe a faithful imitation of the hanging gardens of Babylon!
But Miska's business was with the castle, not the palace; and at last,after a journey which was becoming every hour more and more wearisome,he beheld it rising before him in the distance. It looked, indeed, as ifit were but a little way off, so clear was the air; but Miska had livedan out-of-door life too long to be easily deceived in such matters, andhe took advantage of the next little wayside inn to buy more bread andget another draught of cool water to help him on his way.
By the time he reached the hill his strength was failing fast, and itwas all that he could do to drag himself up past Robert-Charles's palaceto the high-perched castle.
When at last he had been admitted and had given the letter into thegovernor's own hands, he dropped down in a fainting fit, and was carriedoff to the stables.
He was not long in coming to himself, however, and as soon as he wassufficiently recovered he had a feast "fit for a king," as he said;though he steadily refused to touch a drop of the wine which was broughtto him.
The whole time he was eating he kept his eyes fixed on the beautifulhorses, wondering which one he should have to ride; and more than oncehe sent an urgent message to the governor, begging him to let him havethe answer to the letter which he was to take to Buda.
"All in good time," said the governor placidly. "He shall be calledpresently, tell him, when it is time for him to start."
So Miska had nothing for it but to rest in the stable, which waspleasant enough; for where is the Hungarian, old or young, who does notlove a horse? Moreover, he was very tired after his long tramp, andpresently, in spite of his impatience to be off, he fell into a doze.
He was still dozing comfortably when the sound of a horn roused him.
There was a rush to the castle-gate, and when it was opened, a youngman, plainly dressed and alone, rode into the courtyard, where thegovernor hastened to greet him with affectionate respect. For thenewcomer, the horseman whose acquaintance we made outside Mr. Samson'scastle, was no other than King Matthias himself.
"Has my messenger, the beggar boy, arrived?" he asked briskly.
"He is yonder in the stable," said the governor; "he has only just comein, very faint, and he is urging me to give him a horse already."
"He is here?" said the king in surprise. "Impossible! I came at a goodpace myself, and set out hardly half an hour after him. Call him here."
In a few moments the lad was standing in the presence of the great king,though he was far enough from guessing whom he was talking with.
"It is you, the horseman?" said Miska. "Well, it is not my fault that Iam still here. I have been urging Mr. Governor enough, I can tell you. Imight have been ever so long on my way by this time, and they haven'tyet changed my rags or given me a horse."
"Have you had a good feed?"
"Yes, I have; but I did not dare drink any wine."
"Why not, gossip?"
"That's a foolish question," returned the lad calmly, while the governorturned pale at his audacity. "Why, sir, because it is six months since Ihad any, and it would go to my head; and a tipsy messenger is like aclerk without hands--they both pipe the same tune."
"Good," said the king, amused. "Then didn't you stop anywhere on theway? You could hardly lift your feet when you started, and you see I hadnot much faith in you, and came after you."
"Well," said the lad, looking boldly up at Matthias, "to be sure you area strong-built chap, and I believe you could swallow Mr. Governor hereif you were angry; but if your eyes had been starting out of your headwith hunger as mine were, I believe you would have been sitting in some_csarda_ [wayside inn] till now. Stop anywhere? The idea of such athing! As if any one who had business needing haste entrusted to himwould think of stopping to rest!"
"Listen, Miska," said the king. "Would you like to be something betterthan you are now?"
"Hja!" said the beggar, "I might soon be that certainly, for at presentI am not worth even so much as a Jew's harp."
"Let us hear, gossip; what would you like to be?"
> "Like? Well, really, sir, I have never given it a thought. Hm! what Ishould like to be? But then, could it be now--at once?"
"That depends upon the extent of your wishes; for you might wish to begovernor of Visegrad, and in that case the answer would be, 'Hold inyour greyhounds' [don't be in too much hurry]."
"I shouldn't care to be governor, to sit here by a good fire keepingmyself warm--though, to be sure, it would be well enough sometimes,especially in winter, when one has such fine clothes as mine, which justlet the wind in where they should keep it out; but I should like to besomething like that stick on the castle clock which is always movingbackwards and forwards--something that is always on the move."
"Always on the move!" laughed the king. "Well then, gossip, I'll takeyou for my courier; and if you like, you need not keep still a moment."
"I don't mind!" said Miska joyously. "Then I will be a courier."
"You will get tired of it, boy. But tell me one thing: do you knowanything?"
Miska fixed his large eyes on the king.
"Anything?" he asked, hurt and flushing. "Really, sir, when I come toconsider--thunder!--it seems to me as if I knew just nothing at all!"
"Then do you wish to learn?"
"Go to school?" asked Miska; "I don't wish that at all."
"There is no need for that," said the king; "we will find some otherway. Those who want to learn, can learn without going to school. Youwill learn to write and read, which is only play after all to any onewho does not wish to remain a dunce. Do you understand?"
"I don't mind," said Miska.
"Well, then," said the king, turning to the governor, "let him beclothed, and then you can present him."
Thereupon the king withdrew to his own apartments, where some of thegreat nobles were already waiting for him in one of the saloons, andwere not a little surprised to see him appear travel-stained and dusty,but in the most lively spirits.
An hour later Miska had had a bath, and had donned a clean shirt and thebecoming livery worn by the royal pages of the second rank.
The change in his attire had completely metamorphosed him, and now, ashe stood before the king, the latter was more than ever struck by hisface.
"Listen," said he, fixing his keen eyes attentively on the beggar. "Youhave been well fed, and you have been fresh clothed from top to toe.Now, I don't want you to go to Buda; for you see I am here, and haveseen the governor myself. But you remember what I said to you outsideMr. Samson's castle? Well, that shall be the first piece of work you do.I will give you six months, and if you can get inside and bring me wordwhat goes on there, I'll make a man of you. You shall have money to buyanything you may want, and a leather knapsack with linen and all youwill want for the journey--for you will have to go on foot. You shallhave a horse some day, never fear, if you turn out as I expect; but itwould only be in your way now. Well, what do you say?"
The lad knew now that he was in the presence of the king, and Matthiasthought all the more highly of him for the way in which he received hisdangerous commission. He made no hasty promises, but evidently weighedhis words before he spoke.
"Mr. King," said he (for 'Mr.' is used in Hungary in speaking to any oneof whatever degree, and people say 'Mr. Duke' or 'Mr. Bishop,' as theydo in French)--"Mr. King, God preserve Your Highness, and give you athousand times as much as you have given to a poor boy like me. Ivow"--and here the beggar raised his right hand--"I vow that I will doall I can; and if God keeps me in health and strength, and preserves mysenses, I hope to bring Your Highness news of Mr. Samson six monthshence, in Buda."
"That's enough," said the king. "Meantime I too shall see what I can do.I shall give Mr. Samson the chance of mending his ways if he will. Godbe with you on your journey, Miska."
Then putting his hand on the boy's shoulder, he said kindly, "Good-bye,then, till we meet in Buda."