Read Told by the Death's Head: A Romantic Tale Page 7


  CHAPTER I.

  MALACHI.

  The next day the prisoner continued his confession:

  My experience at Berdiczov monastery, my deliverance from destruction,as well as the miraculous restoration of my crippled limb, decided meto adopt the faith of the holy brotherhood.

  Their solemn ceremonies, their elevating devotions, their piety, madea deep impression on me; but the most comforting to me of all theirrites was that of the confessional.

  It was such a comfort to unbosom myself to one in whom I could trustimplicitly; to confide in him all the secrets that tortured my dreamsby night, and my thoughts by day. And then, to receive absolution--toget back, as it were, the bond I had given to Satan!

  One day was not long enough for all I had to tell. I could have spentevery day of the week in the confessional, pouring into the ear of thegood Father Agapitus the sins which burdened my conscience. And oneday I confessed, too, that I was becoming weary of the life in themonastery, where there was nothing to do but tend to the sick all daylong; and that I wanted to go back to the world--if not to my formersinful life.

  After I had confessed, I ventured to ask the worthy father torecommend me to some Polish noble, with whom I should have little workand much amusement. There were many such places, I said, where theservices of a man of my stamp were required.

  "My dear son," returned the worthy father, "I cannot recommend you toa Christian man of the world, for, although I could tell him that youare a pious confrater now, I could not say that you have always beenhonest. I know just the contrary, and I cannot give false witness. ButI will do what I can for you. Here is the crutch you left with us--thegold is still in it. Take it, garb yourself in beggar raiment, andlimp to Lemberg, where lives a Master Malachi in the Jewish quarter ofthe city. You need only to inquire for him, and you will be directedto his house. He is a wicked man, in league with Satan. He deserves tohave been sent to the scaffold long ago--and he will get there shouldthe Inquisition be established. Malachi is the man for your needs.Tell him what you require, he will understand you--especially if youtell him what your crutch contains!"

  I could understand clearly that a pious man like Father Agapitus coulddo nothing for me--so notorious a sinner! He could not give me aletter of recommendation, with false dates; it was enough if hedirected me where to find an accomplished counterfeiter, who couldsupply my wants. So, I kissed his hand in gratitude; bade himfarewell, and, with my crutch under my shoulder, set out for Lemberg,begging my way so that no one should suspect that I carried in mycrutch the wherewith to pay for food and lodging.

  When I arrived in Lemberg I repaired at once to the Jews' quarter,where the streets are so narrow two wagons cannot pass one another.Directly I entered the principal thoroughfare, which seemed averitable rag-fair from one end to the other, I was surrounded by aswarm of noisy children.

  I took from my pocket a denarius, held it up before them, and said Iwould give it to the lad who would conduct me to the house of Malachi,whereupon the youngsters began to quarrel as to which of them shouldbecome the possessor of the coin. The largest scamp among them, whosucceeded by force of his superior size and strength to vanquish hisfellows, offered himself as guide.

  He led me a pretty chase, through numerous byways and alleys, wherethere was hardly room for two persons to pass, to a shop in front ofwhich was sitting an aged dame, with her cap drawn down to hereyebrows.

  Said my guide, after I had placed the denarius in his hand:

  "This woman knows where Malachi lives--she will tell you;" and beforeI could stop him, the little rascal was off down the street as fastas his legs could carry him.

  I turned to the crone, who kept nodding her old head as if she wereassenting to anything I might say to her, took from my pocket a_Marien-groschen_, and holding it toward her, said:

  "Here, mother, this pretty coin shall be yours if you will direct meto Malachi's house."

  She nodded--as much as to say "very good;" rose from her chair,shuffled into the shop, where she filled a small vial with red Polishbrandy. This she handed to me with one hand, at the same timeextending the other for the money.

  "I don't want brandy--I want to know where Malachi lives?" I shoutedat the top of my voice.

  The dame trotted back into the shop and brought a bottle of greenRussian brandy.

  The little scamp had left me to deal with a deaf woman! When I bawledinto her ear for the third time the name of Malachi, she fetched fromthe shop a packet of insect powder which she offered in exchange forthe _Marien-groschen_.

  Then I bethought me of an expedient which is usually successful inlike cases: I took from my pocket a crown and held it toward the dame.This cure for deafness proved effective.

  "Oh, you want to find Malachi?" she said in a cautious whisper,nodding understandingly. "Follow me."

  She closed and locked the shop-door, opened a little gate at thecorner of the house, led me across a vegetable garden hung withsoiled clothes; across a second; thence through a narrow passage,between two old buildings, into a wood-shed; from there into a cellar;then over a swinging bridge across an ill-smelling canal; and, lastly,through a long, seemingly interminable corridor, at the end of whichshe knocked with her staff at a wooden door, at the same timewhispering in my ear, and taking the crown from my hand:

  "I can't tell you where Malachi lives; but I have brought you to thethaumaturgus, who knows everything; he will tell you where to findMalachi."

  The door opened, and I saw before me a venerable man with silvery hairand beard. He was blind. His tall form was enveloped in a black silkrobe girt about the waist by an oriental sash. From his garb, Iconcluded that a coin of greater value would be necessary to procurethe information I desired.

  "Are you the man who knows everything?" I inquired.

  The old gentleman was not in the least chary of words. With greatreadiness he declared that he understood the language of the birds ofthe air; the speech of the beasts of the field; that he could conversewith dragons; could discover subterranean springs; could tell any manwhether or no he was the son of his father; could even understand thetongue in which demons spake--

  "But," I interrupted, "I don't want to know any of these things. Ifyou will tell me where Malachi lives, I will pay for the information."

  "Ah, my son!" he responded, turning his sightless eyes heavenward;"that is a difficult question to answer. There are in this world asmany Malachis as there are flowers in the field, and stars in the sky.There are seventy-seven in this very city; a Malachi Mizraim; aMalachi Meschugge; a Malachi Choschen; Malachi Pinkas; MalachiHonnowas--How do I know which Malachi you want?"

  "I want the one who is a--counterfeiter," I answered, with somehesitation.

  "Ah, my son!" again ejaculated the venerable sage, shaking his headsadly, "how sorry I am to hear that you are on such evil ways! All theMalachis with whom I have to do are honest, God-fearing men."

  I saw plainly that I should have to assist the old gentleman's memory;I pressed a gold coin into his palm. He turned it over and over in hisfingers; tested it in various ways; and, after convincing himself thatit was genuine, he delivered this apothegmatic solution of the riddle:

  "My son, he whom you seek, I cannot find. I have never seen him--I amblind. We will consult the Miracle."

  He stepped back into the room, to the table, where he groped aboutwith his hands among the different objects, until he found a longsteel needle. This he thrust between the leaves of a heavy book lyingon the table, opened it, and placing his forefinger at the point ofthe needle, where it rested on the page, said, in a prophetic tone:

  "He whom the Miracle designates is Ben Malachi Peixoto, thePortuguese--not I, but the Miracle says so."

  "And where shall I find this Portuguese?" I asked.

  "When you go from the door of my dwelling, you will find his directlyopposite. Knock twice, then once, then twice again, and you will beadmitted. And now, my son, go your way in peace!"

  A stocky youth, with a candle, c
onducted me down a dark stairway,opened the door, and I found myself in the same street from which Ihad started on my quest. Malachi's house was the first one on thecorner. I had been led a tramp, for half a day, hither and thither, upand down, through the entire Ghetto, to reach the first house in it!

  I knocked on the door as I had been directed; it was opened by aquince-colored lad. I cannot say for certain whether it was a lad or alass, I think, though, it was a lad. I could not understand thelanguage he spoke--indeed, I don't believe it was a language at all!He conducted me up a creaking staircase, into a darkened room, in thecorner of which crouched a human form with its back to the door. Hedid not turn at my entrance, but kept his face turned from me all thetime I was in the room.

  In front of him was a mirror in which he could see my reflection. Thefleeting glimpse I caught of his face in the glass, told me that themysterious creature had no beard; his face was quite smooth, which Ibelieve is the fashion among Portuguese Jews; it had been embrocatedwith orpiment, which eats off the hair of the beard--a Mosaic lawprohibiting the use of metal to remove hair from the face.

  "Is Malachi at home?" I inquired.

  "Malachi is at home; what do you want of him?"

  The man spoke in the third person, so that I could not have sworn thathe to whom I addressed my inquiries was Malachi or not.

  "I will tell you my errand as briefly as possible," said I. "I want tosecure a position in the household of Duke Visznovieczky, and requirea patent of nobility to certify to my noble birth. I also want anacademic testimonial; a certificate of baptism and confirmation in theRoman Catholic Church; and, lastly, I want a letter of recommendationfrom some grand duke or other, which testifies to my erudition, andskill in all the sciences, as well as to my excellent character. Ofcourse I don't expect you to furnish me with all these documents fornothing. I am willing to pay your price for them. How much do youask?"

  The man replied to my reflection in the mirror: "Malachi's answer toyour insolent request is: You have applied to the wrong person.Malachi does not meddle with such criminal doings. Moreover, Malachihas nothing whatever to do with ragged beggars like yourself. If youdesire to become such a knight as you describe, and have the money topay for the transformation, go to Malachi's cousin, Malchus, thetailor, who sells gentlemen's clothing. He lives on the corner ofBethel street, beside the fountain. From him you can buy all manner offine raiment. Malchus will transform you to a noble knight--if youhave the money to pay for it. And now be gone from here, and don'tcome back again, for Malachi is an honest man whose lips do not utterfalsehoods; his fingers have never been stained with the ink offorgery."

  Firmly believing that he was the Malachi I sought, I departed from hishouse with a disappointed heart, and betook myself to Bethel street,to the house beside the fountain, where I found Malchus the tailor. Iwould at least exchange my beggar's garb for the raiment of agentleman.

  "How glad I am to see your lordship again!" exclaimed the little man,as I stepped into his door. "May I become as the dust of the street,if it doesn't seem a hundred years since I saw you last! But, doesyour lordship imagine I could fail to recognize the noble knightZdenko Kochanovszki, who, in fulfillment of a vow, journeyed on foot,and garbed as a pilgrim, to Jerusalem and back? Have not I, Malchusthe tailor, eyes to see? I'll wager my head against a button, thatnobody but myself would recognize your lordship in those raggedgarments. Could the beautiful Persida, from whom your lordshipreceived the magnificent wreath at the tournament, see you now, shewould say: 'Give this ragged beggar a penny, and drive him away.' Sheis a duchess now, the wife of the powerful Duke Visznovieczki. But _I_have not forgotten your lordship; I still have the clothes yourlordship left in pledge with me--also the embroidered leather-beltwith the bag containing the documents. I kept them all, safelyconcealed, for I knew your lordship, the brave and noble ZdenkoKochanovszki, would return from the holy land and redeem his pledge."

  I saw at once that I should have to accept the personality thrust uponme by the loquacious little tailor, and call myself ZdenkoKochanovszki; and when I found how admirably the puissant knight'scast-off garments fitted me, I no longer hesitated to take possessionof his name also.

  And that is how I became Zdenko Kochanovszki. When I was completelygarbed--and a stately mazar, I looked in the knight's habiliments!--Iasked Malchus what was to pay.

  "Why, surely your lordship remembers the sum I advanced on theclothes? Of course, I did not count in the loan the jeweled claspsyour lordship desired to be sent to the beautiful Persida; so you oweme only a round hundred ducats--"

  "A hundred ducats?" I repeated in consternation. "Why there isn't inall Poland a waywode who can boast of so costly a suit of clothes."

  Malchus smiled slyly: "That is very true, my lord, and there is not inall Poland a magnate who can boast of more valuable documents thanthose in the bag attached to your lordship's leather-belt. When yourlordship left them with me and charged me to care for them as for theapple of my eye, I knew they must be of great importance. So I havekept them safely concealed all these years. I don't know what thepapers contain as I can read only what I write with my own hand. Idon't understand Latin, or Greek; and I don't know how to read fromleft to right; consequently your lordship may believe me when I say Ihave not read the papers. Your lordship will find everything in thebag just as when it was placed in my hands for safe keeping."

  I opened the bag, and, on examining the documents, found to mysurprise and delight that they were just what I wanted. There was apatent of nobility, with a Turk's head in the crest--(concerning theTurk's head I might justly have appropriated it for my own escutcheon,only I had not come into possession of it on the battlefield!) Therewas also an academic certificate, from the Rector of Sarbonne, withthe baccalaureate degree; also certificates of baptism andconfirmation, signed by the bishop of Cracow; a testimonial of valorfrom the imperial commander-in-chief, Montecucculi; and a pardon fromthe patriarch of Jerusalem--such as are bestowed on pilgrims to theHoly Sepulchre--all of which were the property of ZdenkoKochanovszki--who I was!

  Malchus continued to smile slyly while I was examining the documents,and when I had read the last one he said:

  "Doesn't your lordship think these handsome clothes are worth onehundred ducats?"

  I gave him a hearty slap on the back; then counted out a "roundhundred ducats." The clothes were not worth one-tenth that sum, but Iwas quite satisfied with my purchase.

  I was now fully equipped for my entrance to the ducal palace; asZdenko Kochanovszki I might without hesitation seek admittanceanywhere.

  He to whom the name rightly belonged had disappeared eight yearsbefore, and had most likely lost his life in the Holy Land, or in thebattle with the infidels in Hungary. Whoever still remembered thebeardless youth, would not wonder at the great change eight years ofhardship and danger had made in him; and would expect to find the mana different looking person from the boy. As for my looks--I doubt ifmy own mother would have recognized me.

  The duke was an old man, of a girth so enormous that he was obliged towear a broad surcingle as support to his rotund paunch. His hair andbeard were gray on the right side, but black on the left, which gavehim a very peculiar appearance.

  When I presented myself before him, he seized both my hands, andexclaimed:

  "What! Zdenko Kochanovszki back again? The devil! What a man you aregrown! Do you remember what we did at parting?"

  I was confused for a moment: how was I to remember what I had neverknown? However, I had to reply, so I stammered what I thought the mostprobable:

  "We drank to each other, your grace."

  "By heaven, you are right, lad! That is what we did! But, do you alsoremember our wager?"

  I ventured another guess, and answered:

  "Each wagered he could drink the other under the table."

  "Ha, ha, ha! Right--right!" shouted his grace, embracing and kissingme. "That's what we wagered--and the devil fly away with me if Idon't match you again this very moment! Ho, ther
e, fetch the bratina."

  The bratina is a huge golden beaker that holds two quarts. This wasbrought to me, filled with Hegyaljaner wine.

  Now, I had fasted for many hours, and was both hungry and thirsty, sothat it did not require much of an effort on my part to empty thebratina at a draught--to the supernaculum!

  "The devil fetch me!" roared the jovial duke. "If I had not recognizedyou already, I should know you now!"

  I had no difficulty drinking his grace under the table; and from thathour I became an important member of his household.