“And what are you going to get with that?”
“Everything. I will corrupt the sentinels so that they will let me into the fortress; and once let me get in, and I’ll either make Hassan Pasha sell Olaj Beg, or Olaj Beg sell Hassan Pasha. If a good word be of no avail I will use threats, and if my whole scheme falls through, Heaven only knows what I won’t do. I’ll chop Hassan Pasha and his guards into a dozen pieces, or I’ll set the castle on fire, or I’ll blow up the powder magazine—in a word, I won’t desist till I have brought out your consort.”
“How can I thank you for your noble enthusiasm?”
“You mustn’t thank me, my friend; you must thank Flora Teleki, who is your wife’s friend, and expects this of me.”
“Then you are re-engaged?”
“No, my friend. Helen is my bride. Ah, that is the only real woman in the whole round world. I should be with her now if I were not engaged in this business, and as soon as I have finished with it, the pair of us will give you a wedding the like of which has never yet been seen in Hungary.”
The Prince sadly bowed his head. He means well, he thought, but there is a very poor chance of his succeeding. The mercurial youth seems to have no idea that within an hour he will be jeopardizing his head by engaging in a foolhardy enterprise which runs counter to the whole policy of the Turkish Empire. But Tököly’s mind never impeded his heart. His motto always was: “Virtus nescia freni.”
“Then what do you intend to do?” Tököly casually asked Ghyka, just as if he considered it the most extraordinary thing in the world to find him there.
“I also want to save Mariska, and I have hopes of doing so,” said the Prince.
“How? Tell me! Perchance we may be able to unite our efforts.”
“Scarcely, I think. My plan is simply to give myself up instead of my wife. They would execute her for my fault; it is only right that I should appear on the scaffold and take her place.”
“A bad idea!” exclaimed Tököly, “a stupid notion. If you deliver yourself up, they will seize you as well as your wife and do for the pair of you. I know a dodge worth two of that. Take horse along with us, and let us make our way into the fortress sword in hand; we shall do much more that way than if we went hobbling in on crutches. Luck belongs to the audacious.”
“You know, Tököly, that I do not much rely on Turkish humanity; and I am quite prepared, if I deliver myself up, for them to kill both me and her; but at least we shall die together, and that will be some consolation.”
“It is no good talking like that,” cried the young Magyar impatiently. “Stop! A good idea occurs to me. Yes, and it will be better if you come with us and we all act in common. We will say openly at the gate that we bring with us the fugitive Prince of Moldavia as a captive. At the mere rumour of such a thing they will instantly admit us, not only into the fortress, but into the presence of Hassan likewise. The Pasha knows me pretty well, and if I tell him that I bring you a captive, he will believe me, or I’ll break his head for him. He will be delighted to see you. But I will not give you up. I am responsible for you, and must mount guard over you. This will make it necessary to postpone the execution, for we shall have to write to Stambul that the husband has fallen into our hands, and inquire whether the wife is to be sacrificed, and we shall have time to elope ten times over before we get a reply.”
The Prince hesitated. If this desperate expedient had been a mere joke, Tököly could not have spoken of it with greater nonchalance. The Prince gave him his hand upon it.
“The only question now is: which is the easiest way into the fortress. Let us draw near the first sentinel whom we find on the bridge or in the garden and wait until they change guard.”
The horsemen thereupon surrounded the Prince as if he was their captive, and escorted him along the river’s bank.
It was late. On the black surface of the Danube rocked the shapeless Turkish vessels, their sails creaking in the blast of the strong south wind.
It was scarce possible to see ahead at all, nevertheless the little band of adventurers, constantly pushing forward, kept looking around to see where the sentinels were, keeping very quiet themselves that they might catch the watchword.
Suddenly a cry was heard, but a cry which ended abruptly, as if the mouth from which it proceeded had been clapped to in mid-utterance.
On reaching the walls of the palace garden, however, one of them perceived that an armed figure was standing in the little wicket gate.
“There’s the sentinel!” said Tököly.
“The rascal must certainly be asleep to let us come right up to him without challenging us,” said Tököly; and he approached the armed man, who still stood motionless in the gate, and addressed him in the Turkish tongue:
“Hie, Timariot, or whoever you are! Are you guarding this gate?”
“You see that I am.”
“Then why don’t you challenge those who approach you?”
“That’s none of my business.”
“Then what is your business?”
“To stand here till I am relieved.”
“And when will they relieve you?”
“Any time.”
“Does the relief watch come by this gate?”
“Not by this gate.”
“And by which gate can one get into the fortress?”
“By no gate.”
“You give very short answers, my friend, but we must get at Hassan Pasha this very night without fail.”
“You must learn to fly then.”
“Don’t joke with me, sir! I have very important tidings for the Vizier; you may possibly find it
