The Szekler grinned, shook his head, and then looked very hard at the Prince, as if to find out how Apafi could possibly have got to the bottom of his artifice.
The wondering, puzzled face of the Olahfalvian was too much for Apafi’s gravity, and he burst into a loud guffaw, in which everybody present joined him. The Szekler, whose face had hitherto worn a bewildered smile, suddenly became quite serious, threw back his head defiantly, cast a furious look around, half stripped off his short jacket, and exclaimed—
“Harkye, gentlemen! If the Prince chooses to make merry with me, I suffer it; but I’ll trouble you all not to laugh so at my expense.”
The Prince beckoned to them to be silent, and diverted their attention by calling forward the itinerant scholar Clement, who shambled up on his long, lean legs, as if he were every moment about to fall on his knees.
“We have commanded our treasurer,” said the Prince, “to pay to you out of our privy purse three marias19 for the work which you have handed to us.”
“Your Highness was pleased to observe—” stammered the confounded poet.
“You heard very well. I said three marias. That is about the value of the writing materials which you have wasted upon this pedigree. Another time employ your leisure more profitably.”
The Prince then signified that the audience was at an end.
The gentlemen quitted the tent with many a deep obeisance. Kucsuk Pasha alone remained behind.
During the whole of this scene the Pasha had been shaking his head, as if he had not expected all this from Apafi. He could not help remarking too that Apafi now needed no one to remind him how to preserve his princely dignity in the presence of others. Apafi wore an affable air; but it was the affability of princely condescension.
“We have learnt with regret,” he began, turning towards the Pasha, “that we must shortly lose you, whose valour we so much admire, whose friendship we so much esteem.”
The Pasha looked up with astonishment.
“What means your Highness?”
“In consequence of a firman commanding the Transylvanian generals to assemble in the camp of the Grand Vizier. We shall, alas! only see you in our circle for a very short time.”
Kucsuk angrily bit his lips.
“How could he have learnt that already?” he muttered.
“We would willingly retain you, for your person is most dear to us; but we know that the commands of the Padishah require instant submission. Moreover, lest your devotion to us should draw down upon you the displeasure of the Sublime Porte, we have taken such measures as will bring the fortress of Klausenburg to capitulate without having resort to an assault, thus releasing you from the troublesome obligation of keeping your army here any longer. As to the confirmation of our princely dignity, we will take care to settle all that with the Grand Vizier, presumably at Érsekújvár, whither we also are summoned.”
During this speech, Kucsuk had regarded the Prince fixedly and with folded arms. Even when Apafi had finished speaking, he remained standing in the same position without uttering a word.
Apafi calmly continued—
“In order however to express our personal gratitude, however feebly, for your services, we would have you accept from us this little gift more as a token of our respect than as a reward.” And with that the Prince took from his neck a gold chain set with large brilliants, and hung it round the Pasha’s neck.
Kucsuk still remained immovable. He searchingly scrutinized the Prince, and wrinkled his brows. Then, all at once, he began to smile, and shaking his head said slyly—
“It is well, Apafi, it is all excellently well. But I see that thou art wont to commit thy understanding to the custody of thy wife. Salem aleikum! Peace be with thee!”
And off went the Pasha, shaking his head all the way.
But Apafi, with a lightened heart, hastened back to his wife.
Master Gabriel Haller waited a very long time at the door of the tent, till one of the bodyguards came out to inform him that the Prince would dine that day in his family circle.
Then he too shook his head and departed.
A couple of days later, with drums beating and banners waving, Prince Michael Apafi made his triumphal entry into Klausenburg.
VIII
The Peri
Once more we are in Hungary, among the Homolka Mountains, in one of those parts of the land which no one has ever thought of colonizing. For fifty miles round there is not a village to be seen; not a single passable road traverses the whole mountain range. The very footpaths break abruptly off amongst the rocky labyrinths, terminating either in a leaf-covered waterfall, or at the forsaken hut of a charcoal-burner, the carbonized, sooty environment of which suffers nothing green to grow.
The very skirts of this wilderness are uninhabited. One can wander for hours among the oaks and beeches, towering up one above the other, without hearing any other sound but one’s own footsteps; not a blade of grass, not a flower, not a shrub can thrive anywhere here. Beneath the uncleared trees rustle the fallen yellow leaves, peeping up from the midst of which we perceive the speckled caps of oddly-shaped fungi clinging in clusters to the mossy tree stems.
Only where the stream dashes down from the mountains, forcing its way through the valley, does the greensward appear. There, among the luxuriant grasses, lie the fearless stags; wild bees build their basket-shaped nests in the hollow trees on the margin of the stream, and sweep buzzing round the Alpine flowers which dance on the surface of the water.
That stream is
