CHAPTER II
When the baroness appeared at the dinner-table, she was attired simply,yet with a certain elegance. She wore a plain black silk gown, with noother ornamentation save the string of genuine pearls about her throat.The sombre hue of her gown signified mourning; the gems representedtears; but her manner was by no means in keeping with either; she wascheerful, even gay. But laughter very often serves to mask a sorrowfulheart.
"Thy place is here by my side," said the baroness, mindful of the"thee-and-thou" compact with Herr Bernat.
The vice-palatine, remembering his spouse, sought to modify thefamiliarity.
"I forgot to tell you, baroness," he observed, as he seated himself inthe chair beside her own, "that with us in this region 'thou' is usedonly by children and the gypsies. To those with whom we are on terms ofintimacy we say 'he' or 'she,' to which we add, if we wish, the words_bacsi_, or _hugom_, which are equivalent to 'cousin.'"
"And do you never say 'thou' to your wife?"
"To her also I say 'she' or 'you.'"
"What a singular country! Well, then, Bernat bacsi, if it pleases 'him,'will 'he' sit here by me?"
Baroness Katinka understood perfectly how to conduct the conversationduring the repast--an art which was not appreciated by her right-handneighbor, Herr Mercatoris. The learned gentleman had bad teeth, inconsequence of which eating was a sort of penitential performance thatleft him no time for discourse.
But the doctor and the vice-palatine showed themselves all the morewilling to share the conversation with their hostess.
"The official business was satisfactorily arranged without me, was itnot, Bernat bacsi?" after a brief pause, inquired the baroness.
"Not altogether. We are like the gypsy who said that he was going tomarry a countess. He was willing, and all that was yet necessary was theconsent of a countess. Our business requires the consent of abaroness--that is, of Katinka hugom."
"To what must I give my consent?"
"That the conditions relating to the Nameless Castle shall continue thesame as heretofore."
"Nameless Castle?--Conditions?--What does that mean? I should like verymuch to know."
"Katinka hugom can see the Nameless Castle from the terrace out yonder.It is a hunting-seat that was built by a Markoczy on the shore of LakeNeusiedl, on the site of a primitive pile-dwelling. Three years ago, agentleman from a foreign country came to Fertoeszeg, and took such afancy to the isolated house that he leased it from the baron, the formerowner, on condition that no one but himself and servants should bepermitted to enter the grounds belonging to the castle. The question nowis, will Katinka hugom consent to the conditions, or will she revokethem?"
"And if I should choose to do the latter?" inquired the baroness.
"Then your ladyship would be obliged to give a handsome bonus to thelessee. Shall you revoke the conditions?"
"It depends entirely on the sort of person my tenant proves to be."
"He is a very peculiar man, to say the least--one who avoids all contactwith his fellow-men."
"What is his name?"
"I don't think any one around here knows it. That is why his residencehas been called the Nameless Castle."
"But how is it possible that the name of a man who has lived here threeyears is not known?"
"Well, that is easily explained. He never goes anywhere, never receivesvisitors, and his servants never call him anything but 'the count.'"
"Surely he receives letters by post?"
"Yes, frequently, and from all parts of the known world. Very often hereceives letters which contain money, and for which he is obliged togive a receipt; but no one has yet been able to decipher the illegiblecharacters on the letters addressed to him, or those of his own hand."
"I should think the authorities had a right to demand the information?"
"Which authorities?"
"Why--'he,' Bernat bacsi."
"I? Why, what business is it of mine?"
"The authorities ought to inquire who strangers are, and where they comefrom. And such an authority is 'he'--Bernat bacsi!"
"Hum; does 'she' take me to be a detective?"
"But you surely have a right to demand to see his passport?"
"Passport? I would rather allow myself to be thrown from the window ofthe county-house than demand a passport from any one who comes toHungary, or set my foot in the house of a gentleman without hispermission!"
"Then you don't care what people do here?"
"Why should we? The noble does as he pleases, and the peasant as hemust."
"Suppose the man in the Nameless Castle were plotting some dreadfultreason?"
"That would be the affair of the king's attorney, not mine. Moreover,nothing whatever can be said against the tenant of the Nameless Castle.He is a quiet and inoffensive gentleman."
"Is he alone? Has he no family?"
"That the Herr Justice is better able to tell your ladyship than am I."
"Ah! Then, _Herr Hofrichter_," inquired the lady of the manor, turningtoward the justice, "what do _you_ know about this mysterious personage?Has he a wife?"
"It seems as if he had a wife, your ladyship; but I really cannot sayfor certain if he has one."
"Well, I confess my curiosity is aroused! How is it possible not to knowwhether the man is married or not? Are the people invisible?"
"Invisible? By no means, your ladyship. The nameless count and a ladydrive out every morning at ten o'clock. They drive as far as theneighboring village, where they turn and come back to the castle. Butthe lady wears such a heavy veil that one can't tell if she be old oryoung."
"If they drive out they certainly have a coachman; and one might easilylearn from a servant what are the relations between his master andmistress."
"Yes, so one might. The coachman comes often to the village, and he canspeak German, too. There is a fat cook, who never leaves the castle,because she can't walk. Then, there are two more servants, Schmidt andhis wife; but they live in a cottage near the castle. Every morning atfive o'clock they go to the castle gate, where they receive from someone, through the wicket, orders for the day. At nine o'clock theyreturn to the gate, where a basket has been placed for the things theyhave bought. But they never speak of the lady, because they have neverseen her face, either."
"What sort of a man is the groom?"
"The people about here call him the man with the iron mouth. It isbelieved the fat cook is his wife, because he never even looks at thegirls in the village. He will not answer any questions; only once hecondescended to say that his mistress was a penniless orphan, who hadnothing, yet who got everything she wanted."
"Does no one visit them?"
"If any one goes to the castle, the count alone receives the visitor;the lady never appears; and no one has yet had courage enough to ask forher. But that they are Christians, one may know from their kitchen:there is always a lamb for dinner on Easter; and the usual _heiligenStritzel_ on All Saints'. But they never go to church, nor is the pastorever received at the castle."
"What reason can they have for so much mystery, I wonder?" musinglyobserved the baroness.
"That I cannot say. I can furnish only the data; for the deductions Imust refer your ladyship to the Herr Doctor."
"Ah, true!" ejaculated her ladyship, joining in the general laughter."The doctor, to be sure! If you are the county clock, Herr Doctor,surely you ought to know something about our mysterious neighbors?"
"I have two versions, either of which your ladyship is at liberty toaccept," promptly responded the doctor. "According to the first'authentic' declaration, the nameless count is the chief of a band ofrobbers, who ply their nefarious trade in a foreign land. The lady ishis mistress. She fell once into the hands of justice, in Germany, andwas branded as a criminal on her forehead. That accounts for the heavyveil she always wears--"
"Oh, that is quite too horribly romantic, Herr Doctor!" interrupted thebaroness. "We cannot accept that version. Let us hear the other one."
"The second is more likely to be the true one. Four years ago thenewspapers were full of a remarkable abduction case. A stranger--no oneknew who he was--abducted the wife of a French officer from Dieppe.Since then the betrayed husband has been searching all over the worldfor his runaway wife and her lover; and the pair at the castle aresupposed to be they."
"That certainly is the more plausible solution of the mystery. But thereis one flaw. If the lovers fled here to Fertoeszeg to escape pursuit, thelady has chosen the very worst means to remain undiscovered. Who wouldrecognize them here if they went about in the ordinary manner? The storyof the veil will spread farther and farther, and will ultimately betraythem to the pursuing husband."
By this time the reverend Herr Mercatoris had got the better of his badteeth, and was now ready to join the conversation.
"Gentlemen and ladies," he began, "allow me to say a word about thismatter, the details of which no one knows better than myself, as I havefor months been in communication with the nameless gentleman at thecastle."
"What sort of communication?"
"Through the medium of a correspondence, which has been conducted inquite a peculiar manner. The count--we will call him so, although we arenot justified in so doing, for the gentleman did not announce himself assuch--the count sends me every morning his copy of the Augsburg'Allgemeine Zeitung.' Moreover, I frequently receive letters from himthrough Frau Schmidt; but I always have to return them as soon as Ihave read them. They are not written in a man's hand; the writing isunmistakably feminine. The seal is never stamped; only once I noticed onit a crest with three flowers--"
"What sort of flowers?" hastily interposed the baroness.
"I don't know the names of them, your ladyship."
"And what do you write about?" she asked again.
"The correspondence began by the count asking a trifling favor of me. Hecomplained that the dogs in the village barked so loud; then, that thechildren robbed the birds' nests; then, that the night-watchman calledthe hour unnecessarily loud. These complaints, however, were not made inhis own name, but by another person whom he did not name. He wrotemerely: 'Complainant is afraid when the dogs bark.' 'Complainant lovesbirds.' 'Complainant is made nervous by the night-watchman.' Then hesent some money for the owners of the barking dogs, asking that the cursbe shut indoors nights; and some for the children, so they would ceaseto rob the birds' nests; and some for the watchman, whom he requested toshout his loudest at the other end of the village. When I had attendedto his requests, he began to send me his newspaper, which is a greatfavor, for I can ill afford to subscribe for one myself. Later, heloaned me some books; he has the classics of all nations--the works ofWieland, Kleist, Boerne, Lessing, Locke, Schleiermacher. Then we began towrite about the books, and became entangled in a most exciting argument.Frau Schmidt, who was the bearer of this exchange of opinions, veryoften passed to and fro between the castle and the parsonage a dozentimes a day; and all the time we never said anything to each other, whenwe happened to meet in the road, but 'good day.' From the letters,however, I became convinced that the mysterious gentleman is neither acriminal, nor a fugitive from justice, nor yet an adventurous hero whoabducts women! Nor is he an unfortunate misanthrope. He is, on thecontrary, a philanthropist in the widest sense--one who takes aninterest in everything that goes on about him, and is eager to help hissuffering fellows. In a word, he is a philosopher who is happy when heis surrounded by peace and quiet."
The baroness, who had listened with interest to the reverend gentleman'swords, now made inquiry:
"How does this nameless gentleman learn of his poor neighbors' needs,when neither he nor his servants associate with any one outside thecastle?"
"In a very simple manner, your ladyship. He has a very powerfultelescope in the tower of the castle, with which he can view everyportion of the surrounding region. He thus learns when there is illnessor death, whether a house needs repair; and wherever anything is needed,the means to help are sent to me. On Christmas he has all the childrenfrom the village up at the castle, where he has a splendid Christmastree with lighted tapers, and a gift for every child,--clothes, books,and sweets,--which he distributes with his own hand. I can tell you anincident which is characteristic of the man. One day the county arresteda poor woman, the wife of a notorious thief. The Herr Vice-palatine willremember the case--Rakoncza Jutka, the wife of the robber Satan Laczi?"
"Yes, I remember. She is still in prison," assented the gentlemanreferred to.
"Yes. Well, she has a little son. When the mother was taken to prison,the little lad was turned away from every door, was beaten and abused bythe other children, until at last he fled to the marshes, where he atethe young shoots of the reeds, and slept in the mire. The nameless countdiscovered with his telescope the little outcast, and wrote to me tohave him taken to Frau Schmidt, where he would be well taken care ofuntil his mother came back."
By this time the tears were running down the baroness's cheeks.
"Poor little lad!" she murmured brokenly. "Your story has affected medeeply, Herr Pastor."
Then she summoned her steward, and bade him fill a large hamper withsweets and pasties, and send it to Frau Schmidt for the poor little boy."And tell Frau Schmidt," she added, "to send the child to the manor. Wewill see to it that he has some suitable clothes. I am delighted,reverend sir, to learn that my tenant is a true nobleman."
"His deeds certainly proclaim him as such, your ladyship."
"How do _you_ explain the mystery of the veiled lady?"
"I cannot explain it, your ladyship; she is never mentioned in ourcorrespondence."
"She may be a prisoner, detained at the castle by force."
"That cannot be; for she has a hundred opportunities to escape, or toask for help."
Here the surveyor managed to express his belief that the reason the ladywore a veil was because of the repulsiveness of her face.
At this, a voice that had not yet been heard said, at the lower end ofthe table:
"But the lady is one the most beautiful creatures I ever saw--and quiteyoung."
Every eye was turned toward the speaker.
"What? Audiat? How dares he say such a thing?" demanded thevice-palatine.
"Because I have seen her."
"You have seen her? When did you see her? Where did you see her--herwhom no one yet has seen?"
"When I was returning from college last year, _per pedes apostolorum_,for my money had given out, and my knapsack was empty. I was pickinghazelnuts from the bushes in the park of the Nameless Castle, when Iheard a window open. I looked up, and saw in the open sash a face thelike of which I have never seen, even in a picture."
"Ah!" ejaculated the baroness. "Tell us what is she like. Come nearer tome."
The clerk, however, was too bashful to leave his place, whereupon thebaroness rose and took a seat by his side.
"She has long, curling black hair," he went on. "Her face is fair as alily and red as a rose, her brow pure and high, with no sign of thebranding-iron. Her mouth is small and delicate. Indeed, her entireappearance that day was like that of an angel looking down from heaven."
"Is she a maid or a married woman?" inquired one of the company.
A maid, in those days, was very easily distinguished from her marriedsister. The latter was never seen without a cap.
"A young girl not more than fifteen, I should say," was the reply. "Acap would not suit her face."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bernat bacsi. "And this enchanting fairy openedthe window to show her lovely face to Audiat!"
"No; she did not open the window on my account," retorted the young man,"but for the beasts that were luckier than I--for four cats that wereplaying in the gutter of the roof; a white one, a black one, a yellowone, and a gray one; and all of them scampered toward her when theyheard her call."
"The cats are her only companions--that much we know from the servants,"affirmed the justice.
The laurels which his clerk had won made the vice-palatine jealous.
r /> "Audiat," he said, in a reproving tone, "you ought to learn that a youngperson should speak only when spoken to; indeed,--as the learnedProfessor Hatvani says,--even then it is not necessary to answer allquestions."
But the company around the dinner-table did not share these views. Theclerk was assailed on all sides--very much as would have been anaeronaut who had just alighted from a montgolfier--to relate all that hehad seen in those regions not yet penetrated by man. What sort of gowndid the mysterious lady wear? Was he certain that she had no cap on? Wasshe really no older than fifteen years?
The vice-palatine at last put an end to his clerk's triumph.
"Tut, tut! what can you expect to learn from a mere lad like him?--whenhe saw her only for an instant! Just wait; _I_ will find out all aboutthis nameless gentleman and lady."
"Pray how do you propose to accomplish that?" queried the baroness, whohad returned to her former seat.
"I shall go to the Nameless Castle."
"Suppose you are not permitted to enter?"
"What? _I_, the vice-palatine, not permitted to enter? Wait; I willexplain my plan to you over the coffee."
When the time came to serve the black coffee, the amiable hostesssuggested that it would be pleasant to enjoy it in the open air;whereupon the company repaired to the veranda where, on several smalltables, the fragrant mocha was steaming in the cups. Here the baronessand the vice-palatine seated themselves where they could look directlyat the Nameless Castle; and Herr Bernat Goeroemboelyi proceeded to explainhow he intended to take the castle without force--which was forbidden aHungarian official.
Then the two ladies withdrew to make their toilets for the evening; andthe gentlemen betook themselves to the smoking-room, to indulge in alittle game of chance, without which no "installation" ceremony wouldhave been complete.