CHAPTER V.
_ARRESTED._
We were, as I have mentioned, being pushed steadily back, and the mobhad begun to cheer, when a disturbance arose near the doorway, and aman, elbowing his way to the front, demanded angrily that the conflictshould cease.
At the sound of his voice many of the rioters fell back sullenly; andthe rest, being thus deserted by their companions, were compelled tofollow, though not without angry cries and mutterings.
The newcomer, taking his stand directly below us, faced the mob, and ina sensible speech urged them to withdraw. The man was evidently wellknown to his hearers, and it was plain that he possessed considerableinfluence.
At first they seemed half inclined to resent his interference, but by askilful mixture of flattery and firmness he finally succeeded in gettingthem to disperse.
Then he turned to us with graceful courtesy, and I recognized thehandsome young fellow who had so opportunely come to our assistanceoutside the hotel of the minister of war.
However, before he had time to speak, we were joined by the ladies, whohad watched the progress of the fight from the stair-head.
The young fellow removed his cap, and bowed deferentially, almost to theground.
"I am happy," he began with a stammer, very different from his formerfluent speech, "to be of service to the Baroness von Arnstein and herdaughter."
The elder lady looked at him in scorn, and said coldly, "Yourragamuffins have much to answer for, Captain von Theyer."
"And as for the service," exclaimed Theresa, "but for these gallantgentlemen who have now twice defended me against my own countrymen, itwould be far too late."
"Were you in your right place, you would be outside, not inside, thewalls of Vienna," the baroness said with a marked sneer.
"I have done what I believed to be my duty," the young man repliedhumbly, "and my influence has always been used on the side of mercy.This very night I am trying to arrange conditions for the entry of theemperor's troops."
"Conditions!" cried the baroness scornfully; "Windischgratz will make noterms with the rebels!"
"The night grows late," said Theresa, making him a mock curtsy, "and wehave yet to repair the mischief done by your friends."
I was sorry to see the humiliation put upon this blue-eyed young fellow;and though it was no concern of mine, I felt relieved when, with aconfused apology for the excesses committed by the rioters, he took hisleave.
Besides, it was necessary to set Franz's arm, and Stephen also requiredattention, though happily he was not seriously hurt.
The servants, who during the fight had left us in the lurch, now cameforward to help.
While one went to fetch a surgeon, others temporarily refixed theshattered door, and washed the blood-stains from the stairs.
Rakoczy bound the arm of the valiant Franz, who, after receiving thethanks and praises of the ladies, was taken to his room.
We persuaded Stephen to lie down on a couch, where the baroness herselfwashed his wounds, while Theresa prepared a cooling drink for him.
As soon as the surgeon had paid his visit, the ladies retired, andRakoczy and I took it upon ourselves to watch through the remainder ofthe night.
We did not think it likely that the rioters would return; still it waspossible, and we resolved upon leaving nothing to chance.
My brother, weakened by loss of blood, had fallen asleep; the servants,with the exception of two posted as guards over the broken door, hadgone to bed; the house was quite still.
Rakoczy walked to and fro very softly, so as not to disturb Stephen, andI stood at one of the windows thinking of the yellow-haired fraeuleinand the dashing young leader of the insurgents.
The hours dragged by very slowly, but daylight came at last, and Iimmediately sent one of the servants into the streets for news.
He returned in about an hour, smiling and well pleased. The city wasperfectly quiet, he said. There were no signs of fighting; theinsurgents had once more submitted, and in a short time the NationalGuards were to give up their arms to the imperialists.
With this information we joined the ladies at breakfast, Stephen lookingrather pale but not seriously ill, and the rest of us little the worsefor the night's adventure.
Franz, too, was doing well, and the knowledge of the capitulationrelieved the mind of our hostess from further fear.
We were still sitting at table talking over the events of the briefrevolution, when the loud report of a cannon caused us to spring to ourfeet.
The baroness asked to have a window opened, and a white-faced servantobeyed with trembling fingers.
"Surely I hear the great bell of St. Stephen's?" exclaimed our hostessin astonishment.
"Yes, madam," said Rakoczy; "the tocsin is certainly sounding."
"The people have broken faith again," said she. "I wonder the princestoops to treat with them."
"If you will permit me," said Rakoczy, "I will find out what ishappening, and bring you a report. My friends will stay with you incase there should be danger."
This proposal was agreed to, and as soon as he had gone we moved to theback part of the building, from which the southern part of the citycould be seen.
It was plain that the terrible struggle had recommenced. To the clangingof the great bell were added the sharp fire of musketry, the heavierbooming of the cannon, and the shouts of the combatants.
Suddenly, from the direction of the imperial stables, came a flight ofshells and a line of fiery rockets, which fell hissing and sputtering onthe doomed houses.
It seemed as if the horrors of the twenty-eighth were to be repeated.The flames from the burning buildings illumined the sky in severaldifferent parts of the town, and we anxiously awaited the return ofRakoczy to learn the reason for these strange doings.
It was one o'clock when he came back, and by that time the firing hadceased.
"It is all over now," he said. "The imperialists are in possession ofthe gates, and are disarming the National Guard. This last fight was amistake. The leaders gave no orders for it; but the people grewexcited, said they were betrayed, and, rushing to St. Stephen's, soundedthe tocsin. Of course that set all the hot heads in motion, and verysoon they were at their posts on the barricades and the bastions.Windischgratz replied promptly, as you would observe, and themagistrates, hoping to stop such a senseless fight, took the keys of thecity to him on the glacis. The troops are working hard to put out thefires, and I think the Viennese have seen the last of theirinsurrection."
"It will be rather awkward for the leaders," I remarked, thinking of thehandsome young captain.
"They are like eels," said the baroness spitefully, "and will manage towriggle out of it."
"If they are half as clever as Captain von Theyer, they will be in nodanger," exclaimed Theresa. "He will persuade his judges thateverything he has done has been for the emperor."
"A tongue of silver is a very good gift, sometimes," observed Rakoczy.
"I should think a steel blade would be of more importance to a soldier,"retorted Stephen.
"It cannot do half as much mischief!" cried Theresa merrily. "But, areyou going?" for my brother had risen.
"It is necessary," he answered, with the quiet, half-pathetic smilepeculiar to him. "You do not need us longer; your friends are at hand.We, on the contrary, have to seek ours."
"Which means you are about to join the ranks of our enemies?"
"We are Hungarians, and should be disgraced if we stood idly by whileour countrymen fought for liberty."
"I suppose you are right," said the baroness; "but it is a great pity.However, I hope the conflict will be short; and though I must wish forthe success of my own side, I trust that God, who watches over each ofus, will bring you safely through the fight."
"We shall never forget what you have done for us," said Theresa softly,and her proud eyes strongly suggested tears.
We wished them good-bye; and even when in th
e street I, for one, lookedback to catch a last glimpse of the pretty fraeulein as she waved herhand from the window in farewell.
"And now for Hungary!" cried "The Joyous," "though I fear we must travelafoot: horses are not to be had for love or money."
"We can walk," replied my brother. "I have had more than enough ofVienna."
"I believe George is sorry at leaving the pretty Austrian."
"And her mother," I added, trying to make a laugh of it.
At this "The Joyous" smiled, saying I was a hypocrite, and that it wouldbe well to take me away with all speed.
The streets were filled with soldiers, both Croats and Austrians, so wefelt little surprised at finding a party of the latter drawn up near thehouse in which we lodged.
There were two or three trifling articles belonging to us in our rooms;so, while Stephen settled accounts with the proprietor, Rakoczy and Iran upstairs. My brother shortly rejoined us, the things were packed ina small handbag, and we were ready to depart, when some one knocked atthe door.
"Come in!" cried I briskly, and an officer in the Austrian serviceentered.
"I extremely regret my errand," said he pleasantly; "but duty is duty,and you must consider yourselves my prisoners. Feeling sure you wouldnot care to make a scene, I have left my men in the street. You havesimply to give your parole not to attempt an escape, and I shall not useforce."
"Very kind of you!" exclaimed Rakoczy. "But isn't there some mistake?"
The officer took a paper from his pocket.
"Stephen and George Botskay and John Rakoczy," he said, and proceeded toread descriptions of our persons--accurate, indeed, but expressed invery flattering language.
"Come!" laughed "The Joyous;" "after that it will be uncivil to refuseour parole."
"And quite useless," I added in Hungarian. "If we escaped the officer,we could not leave the city."
"What do you say, Stephen?"
"Surrender is a poor way of beginning a fight."
"So it is!" laughed our companion; "but, as your brother remarked, wecan't help ourselves. The question is, Shall we walk to prison asgentlemen, or be dragged there as criminals? So, by your leave, I'lltake advantage, in all our names, of the offer we have received."
Our captor, who was certainly a very polished gentleman, did all hecould to soften the blow.
Very few people noticed us as we walked towards the infantry barracks,where we were to be detained till further orders.
The officer did not know the reason of our arrest; but he assured us thevictors were acting mercifully, and, unless our fault had been extremelygrave, we need not fear.
At the barracks the soldiers offered us no indignities, which was instriking contrast with their treatment of some students brought in atthe same time, whom they loaded with abuse and even struck.
They looked on these enthusiastic youths as the authors of all themischief, and to a certain extent they were doubtless right.
Our prison was a small, square room with whitewashed walls, bare offurniture, but having benches round the sides.
"Well," said I in disgust, "what are we to do now?"
"Go to sleep, and dream we are in Pesth," replied Rakoczy, lying down onone of the benches.
Stephen paced backward and forward restlessly.
"I don't understand it at all," he observed. "Why have they arrestedus? What can we be charged with?"
"Depends upon who our accusers are," answered Rakoczy. "It is plainthat some kind friend has denounced us by name to the Austrian general."
At once I thought of Count Beula, but John shook his head.
"I think not. The count owes us a grudge, but he will pay his debt inHungary, not here. My idea points to a different man altogether--aclever and unscrupulous fellow, who has no wish to see anAustro-Hungarian alliance."
He looked meaningly at Stephen, who nodded.
"Don't speak in riddles!" I exclaimed irritably. "Tell me in plainwords what you think!"
He clapped me on the back, and after indulging in a little good-humouredchaff, explained that in his opinion we owed our arrest to Captain vonTheyer.
"It's this way," he continued, laughing at my surprised looks. "There'sno doubt that the captain cares a good deal for the pretty Theresa. Itis equally certain that he has no friend in the baroness."
"Well?" I said.
"Don't be impatient. I'm coming to the point. Had this insurrectionproved successful, Von Theyer would now be a very important person, andhis influence worth securing, even by the powerful Baroness vonArnstein. Unluckily for him, it has fizzled out like a damp squib; so hehas seized the first opportunity of making his peace with the victors."
"What has that to do with us?"
"Much. For one thing, he thus shows his zeal in the cause of theimperialists. In the second place, he would not be too pleased atfinding how friendly we had become with the fraeulein."
"Do you mean the fellow is jealous of us?" I said, blushing crimson.
"Of me," replied Rakoczy, curling his moustache and looking very grave.
I half suspected he was quizzing me, but could not feel quite certain,till I caught him winking at Stephen, when they both laughed.
"The jest won't prove quite so pleasant if we're locked up till the endof the war," I said; but of that Rakoczy had no fear.
However, we had spent several tedious days in our temporary prison, whenone morning a party of soldiers came to escort us to the general, whowas inspecting the barracks.
Prince Windischgratz, attended by several members of his staff, was in aroom in the officers' quarters.
He was a noble-looking old man, dressed in full uniform, with his breastcovered by medals and ribbons--mementoes of many hard-fought campaigns.His face was mild and humane, but the firm chin and the latent fire inhis eyes showed that he could be severe when necessary.
Addressing us in a mild voice, he asked us how it happened that we werefound in Vienna with arms in our hands.
Rakoczy was about to reply when Stephen forestalled him, which Iregretted, as my brother was not remarkable for the calmness of hislanguage.
"Before answering that question," he said hotly, "we have a right toknow by whose authority three peaceable travellers have been arrestedlike criminals, and deprived of their liberty."
Several of the officers uttered angry exclamations, but the princesmiled good-naturedly.
"There is some difference between peaceful travellers and armed rebels,"said he; "and you are suspected of being the latter."
"It is false!" retorted my brother flatly.
"Appearances are against you. You were seen at the bridge of Tabor, andat least one of you is supposed to have joined in the disgraceful murderof the noble Count Latour."
"Hungarians are not assassins," said Stephen coldly.
"The friends of Count Lamberg speak differently," interrupted one of theofficers with a bitter sneer.
"You are ungenerous, sir, to taunt the Hungarian nation with the crimeof a handful of ragamuffins," I said.
"Yes, yes," exclaimed the prince; "but that is not the point. Can youdeny the charges made against you?"
Stephen glanced round him indifferently; he would not deign to answer,and I followed his example.
Rakoczy, however, still smiling and confident, spoke for all.
"You have asked a question, prince," he said, "and you shall have areply, though it may not be to the liking of some of these gentlemen.We were all three present at the attack on the bridge, and when yourgeneral fell, I by main force prevented my friend Stephen Botskay fromthrowing himself single-handed against the rebels. As to the murder ofCount Latour, George Botskay risked his life time and again to save him,not from Hungarians, but from Austrians. Do you see this wound?" and hebared his arm. "That was done by an Austrian pike. Would you know whythat gallant lad's head is swathed in bandages? Ask yourfellow-countrymen, prince. The answer will show you that not Hungaryalone harbours assassins."
"Talk is che
ap," sneered the officer who had spoken before. "Why, thatvery fellow was at the first barricade in the Prater!"
"Is that so?" asked the prince.
"Yes," said Rakoczy simply; "I was there."
"Which many a poor fellow had reason to be thankful for," I interrupted."More than one man in your ranks to-day owes his life to John Rakoczy'sbravery."
"At this rate, your highness, it will soon appear that the town wascaptured by these heroes," chuckled a grizzled veteran.
I concluded that the speaker was of high rank, as every one laughed athis remark, as if he had said something witty.
They were still enjoying the joke when the door opened and anotherofficer entered the room.
He was a man past the prime of life, with grey hair and whitemoustaches, but alert, strong, and vigorous. His sight was keen, hisbearing martial, and the deep scars of two wounds long since healed borewitness to his courage as a soldier.
His entrance attracted notice, and the prince himself stepped forward togreet him.
The others withdrew a little way, leaving the two chiefs together, andthey immediately began talking very earnestly. From time to time theyboth looked at us, and gradually a pleasant smile spread over theprince's face.
At length the conversation was finished, and the prince, turning to hisstaff, said,--
"Gentlemen, we owe these brave Hungarians an apology for our suspicions.Instead of aiding the rebels, they have acted in a very noble manner,and to them Baron von Arnstein is indebted for the lives of his wife anddaughter.--Baron, these gentlemen are no longer our prisoners; I wishthey could be counted amongst our friends."
"That would follow naturally," said Rakoczy, "if every Austrian were aPrince Windischgratz."
"I cannot accept the compliment; it would be unfair to my bravecolleagues," the general replied. "However, I can thank you all threefor your generous behaviour, which I do most heartily."
We replied in the same spirit, and, accompanied by Baron von Arnstein,left the room.
That nobleman could with difficulty restrain his emotion; he thanked ustwenty times while crossing the barrack square, and urged us repeatedlyto return home with him. I should have liked this famously; but Stephenwas anxious to leave the city, and I did not wish to thwart him.
Accordingly, after our weapons were restored, it was agreed that thebaron should conduct us through the Austrian lines. He had only heardof his daughter's rescue that morning, and, knowing there were threeprisoners bearing the same names as those mentioned by his wife, hadimmediately hurried off to Prince Windischgratz.
"I do not ask where you are going," he said, as we passed through thecity gate into the ruined suburb, "but I could wish that your stepspointed westward rather than to the east."
"Perhaps it will be as well not to tell you," replied Rakoczy with asmile; "but if ever you need a friend in the Hungarian army, let one ofus know."
"It is a terrible business, but we at least must not quarrel. Still, Icannot understand why you and gallant lads like these should be so eagerto fight for a republic. I should have thought you were royalists to thebackbone."
"So we are," said Stephen promptly. "Royalists and loyalists too, ifthe emperor will but grant our rights."
"What do you think, then, would happen, if by any means the war shouldend in your favour?"
"We should force the emperor to restore our constitution, and thenreturn to our allegiance."
"Shake hands all round," said Rakoczy genially.
The baron shook his head.
"Pardon me," he said; "but I am getting an old man, and years bringexperience. You deceive yourselves, or rather, have had dust thrown inyour eyes. Kossuth and his friends are not fighting for a restoredconstitution, but to make Hungary a republic. Victory on your side willmean an exchange of Ferdinand the king for Kossuth the dictator."
"Then," exclaimed Stephen sternly, "defeat will be more welcome thanvictory, for, if what you say be true, the land will swim in blood.Here are three royalists whose forefathers drew the sword for MariaTheresa, and there are scores of thousands like us."
"You will hear our armies join battle to the cry of 'Long live Hungaryand King Ferdinand!'" said Rakoczy. "We don't want a republic."
This talk of the baron's, so like what we had before heard, set usthinking, and it was in rather a sad humour that we crossed the Austrianor rather imperialist camp.
The baron saw us in safety to the farthest outpost, where we stopped towish him farewell.
"Good-bye," he said kindly. "I cannot pretend to hope your armies willprove successful, but from my heart I wish you personally good-luck inyour venture. Our people will do you no harm, except to make prisonersof you; but mind the Croats--they are rather bloodthirsty, and not overwell disciplined."
We thanked him for his advice, sent back a friendly message to his wifeand daughter, and then set out on our journey.
"A fine fellow," remarked Rakoczy, throwing a glance back. "I hope weshall never meet him in a charge."