Read The Strange Story of Rab Ráby Page 11


  CHAPTER VIII.

  Mr. John Leanyfalvy was a narrow-minded man. He was the postmaster ofSzent-Endre. He neither paid nor received visits; he had but one hobby,and that was gardening. This he rode with a persistency worthy of aDutchman. He grew flowers of which no one had ever heard before--exoticblooms almost extinct, but for the fostering shelter his garden wallsafforded.

  He was specially celebrated for his melons. At the time of themelon-harvest, two great mastiffs guarded the melon-plot over which hisbedroom window looked. In this garden all his spare time was spent. Hewas so busy one afternoon over his melon-beds, that he did not observehow his mastiff, who by day was chained up, was growling at a man whostood before the garden gate. He only became aware of the new-comer whenthe latter wished him good day. He looked round and saw a strangerdressed in the latest modish costume of Vienna, and finally, herecognised in the apparition his nephew, young Matyi.

  "Why bless me if it isn't my nephew Matyi. I hardly recognised you inthis fashionable coat, I declare. But very welcome you are all thesame."

  And the old man embraced his nephew heartily.

  "Ay, but you've become a man since I saw you last. You only want amoustache," and he looked at Raby's smooth-shaven face critically. "Butyou are not in a hurry to be back in Vienna, I hope?"

  "Well, unless you want to send me away, I needn't be in a hurry to goback, as I could stay here all the winter," answered Raby.

  "Well, don't talk to me about sending you off. I know well enough youare under someone else's orders."

  "Yes, uncle, under orders to stay here for some time."

  "Oh! I take it, you are here then for the taxation commission?"

  It was an office which had at that time but an unenviable reputation inHungary.

  "More pressing business still," answered the young man with a smile, ashe whispered something in the old gentleman's ear, which was evidentlyan important disclosure.

  The features of the old man relaxed.

  "Now that's something like; that's capital! Now I can reckon you a man.Only don't neglect the work."

  "Trust me!"

  "And then don't begin among the lesser folk, but get hold of the greatpeople. Go straight to the prefect himself; he's the one to tackle. Ay,I could give you some good advice. Hear all, see all, and hold yourtongue, as the saying goes. But you know all about that, and have noneed of a plaster over your mouth."

  "Yet if I find the guilty, I shall not spare them, I warn you, whoeverthey be."

  "You will see, my boy," said the old gentleman, rubbing his hands, "ifyou tackle the prefect properly, you will be court judge of Visegrad,year in and year out." And he clapped his nephew on the shoulder.

  "What kind of a berth is it in Visegrad?"

  "Ay, my boy, that's the fattest plum in the neighbourhood; it's worthmore than a hundred county court magistracies, and it happens to be justvacant."

  "How could I hope to get it?"

  "What a stiff-necked man it is to be sure! Didn't you get to Vienna? Youdon't surely reckon yourself among those people who let themselves becajoled by the gift of a fine horse or a roll of ducats: a man like youis worthy a bigger bribe."

  The young man became suddenly crimson.

  "But, my uncle, I don't come for that--for the sake of a horse or money,or even a court magistracy, not to be bribed by the great, but rather toredress the grievances of the folk who are oppressed, and to rectifyabuses."

  At this speech Mr. Leanyfalvy shifted his zouave from the left to theright shoulder.

  "Don't you know, my dear boy, that out of the mouth of the poor,complaints are not heard. There must be a God who hears them,nevertheless. Yet the government is a power against which one man canavail nothing. How can you protect the sown fields from the marmots? Manis just such a marmot. Dismiss him who is now in office, and put anotherin his place; you only change for the worse. As long as there are foolsand knaves in the world, so long will the one always rob the other."

  "Now if you reckon abuses of office among social ills, I can but tellyou that if you have a will, you can amend them. And this will have I."

  "Yes, but have you likewise the power? 'Whoso is wanting in strength ispowerless in wrath.' Besides, who stands behind you?"

  "The Emperor himself."

  "And who else?"

  "Isn't he enough?"

  "That doesn't suffice; you must have the presiding judge as a patron, orthe lord chancellor, or at least the district commissioner. If you canonly ensure the Emperor's favour, that doesn't go far. What can you sayto our Emperor, except 'May it please his Majesty,' and that he islampooned daily. Every day there come some such scurrilous pamphlets tomy notice."

  "The Kaiser believes in unlimited freedom of opinion."

  "Hang freedom of opinion! If I were Emperor, and anyone printed suchthings about me, I would take my axe and play such a tune on thewriter's head with it, that he would not ask for a second one. And thenif the Hungarians see that the Austrians dare thus to insult the Kaiser,what liberties will the Hungarian not allow himself?"

  "Yes, indeed. All those who are shocked at his novelties, murmur againsthim. They abuse him because the freedom hitherto only accorded to acertain class and creed, will now be extended to all his subjectsindiscriminately."

  "Let us talk about the melons, my dear boy. Look at this one with themottled rind. When it's ready you can eat it without harm. But take abite, before it is ripe, and you get a horribly sore mouth. Now it'sjust the same with liberty. When it is ripe, the grower can present itto the people on a pewter plate. But cut it before it is ready, and themelon and he who eats it, alike are done for. I know you will maintainthat one can force the melon to get ripe, if you have hot-beds andgreen-houses. Now you and your friends, the philosophers andphilanthropists, are just such growers at the present time. Who couldget enough hot-beds and forcing-houses for the whole world? Wait tillthe dog-days come, and the heat of the sun will let each one ripen inits proper measure."

  "Good, uncle. I accept the melon allegory, and will answer you in yourown gardening terms: If you want melons, you must sow the seeds. Somesprout, others lay dormant. Then comes the worm to devour them, and themildew and the frosts to blast the young shoots, yet, in spite of all,your true gardener tends them to the end. Such a sower am I, who plantwhat is entrusted to me in the ground, that others may reap theharvest."

  The simile pleased the old gentleman much; he stroked his moustachethoughtfully.

  "You are the right sort, my boy. And if you feel equal to the task,undertake it. But I fear you won't succeed! But you have not come hereto stir up a hornet's nest, have you?"

  "No, uncle. First of all, I shall procure the actual facts of the case,and till I get them, I shall not say a word to anyone."

  "That's well and good. But how will you get those facts?"

  "I have reckoned for all that. I mean to settle down and buy myself ahouse, with a field and vineyard. As an inhabitant of the city, I shallhave the right to mix myself up in local affairs."

  "That sounds like business. For that matter, I can recommend you a housethat belonged to the notary's brother. It's a fine property, withgarden, vineyard, and meadow attached. The owner is a drunkengood-for-nothing, and over head and ears in debt, but can, by realisingthe property, pay his debts, and still have something left. Leave thecontract to me."

  "Agreed then, uncle. The money question can soon be settled, as I havewhat will be necessary."

  "So far, so good. But after, when you have your facts, who is going tobe prosecutor?"

  "I myself will be."

  The old gentleman stroked his moustache doubtfully.

  "Oho, my boy, that's a dangerous game. Do you know that the law won'tallow you to do it anonymously? The prosecutor must act in his ownname."

  "I shall lodge my complaint openly so that the guilty can recognise me."

  "Then be sure they will try and get rid of you."

  "That is the fortune of war."

  The old man smi
led slily.

  "It has just occurred to me you can't be prosecutor."

  "Why not?"

  "Why, pray, have you not studied law in Vienna? Docs not the decree ofSt. Stephen lay it down that the prosecutor must be a married man? Ifyou are single, you are not qualified to make the depositions."

  "All right, I'll marry."

  His hearer fairly shook with laughter.

  "My boy, I've heard many motives suggested for matrimony, but never onelike yours. You are going to marry to help the people to their rights!Remember that--

  "'He who takes himself a wife, Does but heap up care and strife.'"

  "But, uncle, what can you, who were never married, have to urge againstmatrimony?"

  "Oh, I've nothing against your marrying. Leave that also to me. I havefound you a house; now I'll find you a wife."

  "It is very good of you, I'm sure."

  "I'm not joking. I know of a right suitable maiden for you. You rememberwhen you were still a lawyer's clerk, pretty little Mariska, thenotary's daughter. Well, she has become a fine girl. Since her mother'sdeath she manages the household entirely, and nowhere is there one sowell ordered as Tarhalmy's. She spends no money beyond what she gives tothe poor, and knows how to save as well. She's none of your frilled andfurbelowed fine ladies, and does not frizz her hair in the latestfashion, but just dresses like a modest Magyar maid; and when you talkto her, you hardly know what colour her eyes are, so modestly are theycast down. Nor does she waste time in chatter, but gives you a plainanswer to a plain question, with the prettiest blush imaginable. That'sthe wife for you, my boy, and a right comely one, I promise you."

  "All right, uncle. When I've bought the house, and had time to lookround a little, I'll go and see her."

  And with that, Raby took his leave.