LETTER II
"The longer I linger here the more I become wedded to the land in which,after all, I have known the few hours of real happiness I ever spent.Yes, Hal, with all its guilt, with all its anxieties, with everythingand everybody battling against me--that was my golden year, such as Ishall never see again. She was so generous, so gentle, and so true; shesacrificed all so willingly for me, and never looked back. Suchcourage, such patience, and oh! such beauty; and to lose her after oneshort year. Well, it is my punishment, and I bear it; but if it had tobe done again I would do it. Surely I was not so much to blame. Hadshe but lived I would have made her such amends. And after all she ismine--mine in her lonely grave under the acacias, and I shall meet heragain. If the universe holds her I shall meet her again. Wearily theyears have dragged on since I lost her, but every birthday is amilestone nearer home; and in the meantime I have Vere and my art. Andwe wander about this wild country, and scamper across its boundlessplains, and I paint and smoke, and try to be happy.
"We arrived here last night, and I need scarcely tell you that Edeldorfis as English as any place out of England can be, and my old friend butlittle altered during the last twenty years. You remember De Rohan atMelton and Newmarket, at Rome and at Paris. Wherever he lived he wasquite the Englishman, and always rode a thoroughbred horse. It wouldindeed be ungrateful on your part to forget him. Need I remind you ofthe dinner at the old Club, and the procession afterwards, with somefourteen wax candles, to inspect The Switcher in your stables, at therisk of burning down the greater part of the town, and converting someof the best horses in England into an exceedingly tough grill. I cansee the Count's face of drunken gravity now, as he felt carefully downthe horse's forelegs, undeterred by the respectful stare of your groom,or the undisguised astonishment of the animal itself. 'Vat is hisname?' was the only question he asked of the polite Mr. Topthorn. 'TheSwitcher, my lord,' was the reply. 'Ver' nice name,' said the Count,and bought him forthwith at a price that you yourself can bestappreciate; but from that day to this he never could pronounce theanimal's appellation; and although he rode 'The Svishare' both inEngland and here, and has got prints and pictures of him all over thehouse, 'The Svishare' he will continue to be till the end of time.
"All this Anglo-mania, however, is not much appreciated in high places;and I can see enough without looking much below the surface to satisfyme that the Count is eyed jealously by the authorities, and that if everthey catch him tripping they will not spare his fortunes or his person.I fear there will be a row before long, and I would not trust the wildblood of my friends here if once they get the upper hand. Onlyyesterday an incident occurred that gave me a pretty correct idea of thestate of feeling in this country, and the disaffection of the peasant tohis imperial rulers. Vere and I were travelling along in our usualmanner, occupying the front seat of a most dilapidated carriage, which Ipurchased at Bucharest for twenty ducats, with the nurse and the baggagebehind. We had stopped for me to sketch an animated group, in the shapeof a drove of wild horses being drafted and chosen by their respectiveowners, and Vere was clapping his hands and shouting with delight at thehurry-skurry of the scene (by the way, there was a white horse that Icaught in a beautiful attitude, who comes out admirably and lights upthe whole sketch), when an officer and a couple of Austrian dragoonsrode into the midst of the busy horse-tamers, and very rudely proceededto subject them to certain inquiries, which seemed to meet with sulkyand evasive answers enough. After a time the Austrian officer, ahandsome boy of twenty, stroking an incipient moustache, ordered theoldest man of the party to be pinioned; and placing him between his twosoldiers, began to interrogate him in a most offensive and superciliousmanner. The old man, who was what we should call in England a bettersort of yeoman farmer, of course immediately affected utter ignorance ofGerman; and as the young Austrian was no great proficient in Hungarian,I was compelled most unwillingly to interpret between them, Vere lookingon meanwhile with his mouth wide open, in a state of intensebewilderment. The following is a specimen of the conversation:--
"_Austrian Sub-Lieutenant_, in German--'Thou hast been hiding deserters;and so shalt thou be imprisoned, and fined, and suffer punishment.' Ihave to modify these threats into Hungarian.--'Brother, this nobleofficer seeks a deserter. Knowest thou of such an one?'
"_Old Man_--'My father, I know nothing.'
"_Austrian Officer_, with many expletives, modified as before by yourhumble servant--'You shall be punished with the utmost rigour if you donot give him up.'
"_Old Man_, again--'My father, I know nothing.'
"_Officer_, losing all patience, and gesticulating wildly with hissword--'Slave, brute, dog, tell me this instant which way he took, or Iwill have you hanged to that nearest tree, your family shall beimprisoned, and your village burnt to the ground.'
"_Old Man_, as before--'My father, I know nothing.'
"The case was getting hopeless; but the young officer had now thoroughlylost his temper, and ordered his men to tie the peasant up, and flog himsoundly with a stirrup-leather. Here I thought it high time tointerpose; I saw the wild Hungarian blood beginning to boil in the veinsof some dozen dark scowling fellows, who had been occupied tending thehorses. Eyes were flashing at the Austrians, and hands clutching underthe sheepskin where the long knife lies. Fortunately the officer was agentleman and an admirer of the English. With much difficulty Ipersuaded him to abandon his cruel intention, and to ride on inprosecution of his search; but it was when his back was turned that thetide of indignation against himself and his country swelled to thehighest. The peasants' faces actually became convulsed with rage, theirvoices shook with fury, and threats and maledictions were poured ontheir masters enough to make one's very blood run cold. If ever they doget the upper hand, woe to the oppressor! There is nothing on earth sofearful as a Jacquerie. God forbid this fair land should ever see one.
"We journeyed on in a different direction from the dragoons, but wecaught occasional glimpses of their white coats as they gleamed throughthe acacias that skirted the road; and I was just thinking how well Icould put them in with a dab or two of chalk against a thunder-storm, ora dark wood in the midst of summer, when the bright sun makes thefoliage almost black, and debating in my own mind whether the officerwould not have made a better sketch if his horse had been a light grey,when my postilion pulled up with a jerk that nearly chucked Vere out ofthe carriage, and, pointing to something in the road, assured 'myExcellency' that the horse was dying, and the rider, in all probability,lying killed under his beast. Sure enough, an over-ridden horse wasprostrate in the middle of the road, and a young man vainly endeavouringto raise him by the bridle, and calling him by all the terms ofendearment and abuse in the Hungarian vocabulary, without the slightesteffect. Seeing our carriage, he addressed me in German, and with agentlemanlike voice and manner begged to know in what direction I wastravelling. 'I hope to get to Edeldorf to-night,' was my answer. Hestarted at the name. 'Edeldorf!' said he; 'I, too, am bound forEdeldorf; can you favour me with a seat in your carriage?' Of course Iimmediately complied; and Vere and I soon had the stranger between us,journeying amicably on towards my old friend's chateau. You know myfailing, Hal, so I need not tell you how it was that I immediately beganto study my new acquaintance's physiognomy, somewhat, I thought, to hisdiscomfiture, for at first he turned his head away, but after a whileseemed to think better of it, and entered into conversation with muchfrankness and vivacity. The sun was getting low, and I think I couldhave sketched him very satisfactorily in that warm, soft light. Hishead was essentially that of a soldier; the brow deficient in ideality,but with the bold outlines which betoken penetration and forethought.Constructiveness fully developed, combativeness moderate, but firmnessvery strongly marked; the eye deep set, and, though small, remarkablybrilliant; the jaw that of a strong, bold man, while the lines about themouth showed great energy of character and decision. From the generalconformation of his head I should have placed forethought as thedistinguishing qua
lity of his character, and I should have painted therich brown tones of his complexion on a system of my own, which such aportrait would be admirably calculated to bring out. However, I couldnot well ask him to sit to me upon so short an acquaintance; so, whilehe and Vere chatted on--for they soon became great friends, and my newacquaintance seemed charmed to find a child speaking German sofluently--I began to speculate on the trade and character of thismysterious addition to our party. 'Hair cut short, moustache closeclipped,' thought I, 'perfect German accent, and the broad Viennesedialect of the aristocracy, all this looks like a soldier; but the roughfrieze coat, and huge shapeless riding boots could never belong to anofficer of that neatest of armies--"the Imperial and Kingly." Then hismuscular figure, and light active gait, which I remarked as he spranginto the carriage, would argue him one who was in the habit ofpractising feats of strength and agility. There is no mistaking theeffects of the gymnasium. Stay, I have it, he is a fencing-master; thataccounts for the military appearance, the quick glance, the somewhatworn look of the countenance, and he is going to Edeldorf, to teach DeRohan's boy the polite art of self-defence. So much the better. I,too, love dearly a turn with the foils, so I can have a glorious"set-to" with him to-morrow or the next day; and then, when we are moreintimate, I can paint him. I think I shall do him in oils. I wish hewould turn his head the least thing further this way.' I had got as faras this when my new friend did indeed turn his head round, and lookingme full in the face, thus addressed me:--'Sir, you are an Englishman,and an honourable man. I have no right to deceive you. You incur greatdanger by being seen with me. I have no right to implicate you; set medown, and let me walk.' Vere looked more astonished than ever. Ibegged him to explain himself. 'I tell you,' said he, 'that I am athief and a deserter. My name is posted at every barrack-gate in theempire. I am liable to be hanged, if taken. Are you not afraid of menow?' 'No,' exclaimed Vere, his colour heightening and his eyesglistening (oh! so like her). 'Papa and I will take care of you; don'tbe afraid.' My boy had anticipated what I was going to say; but Iassured him that as I had taken him into my carriage I considered him asmy guest, and come what would I never could think of abandoning him tillwe reached our destination. 'Of course,' I added, 'you are then free tocome and go as you please. If you have done anything disgraceful, weneed never know each other again. I do not wish to hear of it. You areto me only a belated traveller; permit me to add, a gentleman, to whom Iam delighted to be of service. Will you smoke? Let me offer you acigar.' The blood rushed to his face as he declined the profferedcourtesy; for an instant he looked half offended, and then, seizing myhand, he exclaimed, 'If you knew all, you would pity me--nay, more, youwould approve of what I have done.' He turned suddenly to Vere, andrather startled him by abruptly exclaiming, 'Boy, do you love yourfather? is he all the world to you?' 'Yes,' said Vere, colouring upagain, 'of course I love papa, and Nurse "Nettich" too.' That worthywoman was fast asleep in the rumble. 'Well,' said the stranger, morecomposedly, 'I love my father, too; he is all I have in the world, andfor his sake I would do the same thing again. I will tell you all aboutit, and you shall judge between me and my crime.' But my new friend'sstory I must defer, my dear Hal, to another letter. So for the present,_Vive valeque_."