“Then,” cried Teleki, with solemn emphasis, “we appeal to the Diet.”
“I too will be there,” said Banfi.
The Prince, very much offended, withdrew to his cabinet. The Hungarian nobles, much excited, went out by the other door. Teleki remained behind. Banfi, adjusting his marten-skin cap, haughtily measured his opponent from head to foot, and exclaimed ironically as he went out—“I leave my reputation behind me!” Teleki returned his gaze with the most nonchalant sangfroid.
When everyone had disappeared, Teleki whispered some words to a page, who went out and returned in a few moments with a florid, curly-headed young man. Methinks we have seen this youth somewhere or other before, though only for an instant which we cannot call to mind. A beggar’s sack hangs down over his ragged clothing, his hand holds a knobby stick.
“So you permit me at last to approach the Prince?” said he, in a somewhat dictatorial tone.
“Sit down here by the door,” replied the minister; “the Prince goes to dinner shortly, and will pass by this way. You can then speak to him.”
The young man with the beggar’s sack sat for a long time at the Prince’s door, till Apafi came out of his room on his way to dinner. The beggar with the knapsack planted himself right in his Highness’s way.
“Who are you?” asked the Prince, much surprised.
“I am that renowned warrior, Emerich Balassa, who once was one of the chief men of Hungary, and now stands before your Highness with the beggar’s staff.”
“You were involved, I understand, in that conspiracy against us?” said Apafi, disagreeably flurried.
“That I was not, your Highness. If you would deign to listen to my tale, then—”
“Speak!”
“There was once in Hungary a famous Turkish freebooter, named Corsar Beg, who for a long time ravaged the mountain regions. The banded might of six counties was insufficient to besiege him in his fortress. This man I captured by subtlety. By promises and flatteries I won over his favourite slave, who enticed him out of his stronghold by night and alone. I, duly advertised thereof, fell upon him with horsemen ambushed in the woods, and took captive both him and his slave, who is the most beautiful and the most abandoned of her sex in the whole world.”
“I have heard of you, Master Balassa. It was a daring deed.”
“Listen further, your Highness. No sooner had the news of my capture spread abroad, than the Palatine of Hungary, very emphatically, insisted upon my handing over the prisoners to him. The Turks had already offered me a ransom of sixteen thousand ducats for the pair, but I would not part with the girl at any price. I therefore sent word to the Palatine that if he wanted a Beg of his own he must catch one, for I had not captured mine on his account.”
Apafi laughed heartily. “That was one for him!”
“Thereupon the Palatine waxed wroth, and by the Emperor’s command sent out troops against me to rob me of my captives. Now just at this very time, your Highness’s brother-in-law, Denis Banfi, had taken refuge in my castle, and to him I entrusted the slave, of whom I was madly enamoured. He was to fly with her to my castle of Ecsed, and as I saw that the Palatine was bent upon securing Corsar Beg for himself in order to cut off his head at Buda as a warning to all malefactors, I gave the Turk poison, which he, to escape the scaffold, thankfully accepted. When, therefore, the troops of the Palatine arrived at my house, all that they found there was the cold corpse, which the Turks afterwards purchased from me for a thousand ducats.”
“The Palatine was naturally very angry, I suppose?” remarked Apafi.
“ ’Twas I who had cause to be angry, for all through him I lost fifteen thousand ducats, and yet he succeeded in obtaining an order for my apprehension from the Emperor. I scented the danger in time, and got together my valuables in order to fly into Transylvania, and remain there till the affair had blown over. First of all, then, I hastened to my castle at Ecsed, whither, as I have said, I had sent Banfi on beforehand with the Turkish slave. While still on the way, I learnt that Banfi had been restored by your Highness’s amnesty to his former position. I rejoiced greatly thereat, supposing that I now had in him a powerful protector. Nevertheless, on reaching Ecsed, I found no sign or trace of the girl. My castellan there informed me that Banfi had carried her off with him, and left a letter behind for me, which contained the following words—‘Learn from this, my friend, that there are three things you should never entrust to another—your horse, your watch, and your mistress!’ ”
“What!” cried Apafi; “is this really true?”
“Pray let your Highness look at his own writing,” and he drew the letter in question out of his leather knapsack. “He is said to have concealed the girl somewhere in his forests at Banfi-Hunyad.”
Apafi turned scarlet with rage.
“ ’Tis monstrous!” cried he. “This fellow possesses a virtuous and lovely wife of his own—my consort’s own sister—and yet he can so far forget his duty as a husband! I’ll not put up with it!”
“Pardon me, your Highness; I have nothing more to do with Banfi now. My complaint is against one Kapi, who had the usufruct of my Transylvanian property. Not wishing, then, to have anything more to do with Banfi, I took up my quarters with Kapi at Aranyosi Castle. Your Highness, the pomp which that man displays exceeds anything that I have ever seen, and I have seen many princely and palatinal courts in my day. His wife never uses her feet at all. Even if she wants to get to the door, she is carried thither in a gilded sedan-chair, and she never wears a dress more than once!”
“But what have I to do with the frippery of Dame
