That Boy Of Norcott's
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Not knowing if fortune might ever repeat her present favor, I resolved to profit by the opportunity to the utmost; and while cautiously repressing all display, contrived to show that I was master of some three or four languages, and a person of education, generally.
“We are puzzled about your nationality, sir,” said the Countess to me. “If not too great a liberty, may I ask your country?”
When I said England, the effect produced was almost magical. A little murmur of something I might even call applause ran through the room; for I had mentioned the land of all Europe dearest to the Hungarian heart, and I heard, “An Englishman! an Englishman!” repeated from mouth to mouth, in accents of kindest meaning.
“Why had I not presented myself before? Why had I not sent my name to the Countess? Why not have made it known that I was here?” and so on, were asked eagerly of me, as though my mere nationality had invested me with some special claim to attention and regard.
I had to own that my visit was a purely business one; that I had come to see and confer with the Count, and had not the very slightest pretension to expect the courtesies I was then receiving.
My performance at the piano crowned my success. I played the csardas with such spirit as an impassioned dancer alone can give to the measure he delights in, and two enthusiastic encores rewarded my triumph. “Adolf, you must play now, for I know the Englishman is dying to have a dance,” said the gay young Countess Palfi; “and I am quite ready to be his partner.” And the next moment we were whirling along in all the mad mazes of the csardas.
There is that amount of display in the dancing of the csardas that not merely invites criticism, but actually compels an outspoken admiration whenever anything like excellence accompanies the performance. My partner was celebrated for the grace and beauty of her dancing, and for those innumerable interpolations which, fancy or caprice suggesting, she could throw into the measure. To meet and respond to these by appropriate gesture, to catch the spirit of each mood, and be ready for each change, was the task now assigned me; and I need not say with what passionate ardor I threw myself into it. At one moment she would advance in proud defiance; and as I fell back in timid homage, she would turn and fly off in the wild transport of a waltz movement Then it was mine to pursue and overtake her; and, clasping her, whirl away, till suddenly with a bound she would free herself, again to dramatize some passing emotion, some mood of deep dejection, or of mad and exuberant delight It was clear that she was bent on trying the resources of my ingenuity to the very last limit; and the loud plaudits that greeted my successes had evidently put her pride on the mettle. I saw this, and saw, as I thought, that the contest had begun to pique; so, taking the next opportunity she gave me to touch her hand, I dropped on one knee, and, kissing her fingers, declared myself vanquished.
A deafening cheer greeted this finale, and accompanied us as I led my partner to her seat.
It is a fortunate thing for young natures that there is no amount of praise, no quantity of flattery, ever palls upon them. Their moral digestion is as great as their physical; and even gluttony does not seem to hurt them. Of all the flattering speeches made me on my performance, none were more cordially uttered than by my beautiful partner, who declared that if I had but the Hungarian costume, – where the clink of the spur and the jingle of the hussar equipment blend with the time, – my csardas was perfection.
Over and over again were regrets uttered that the Empress, who had seen the dance at Pesth done by timid and un impassioned dancers, and who had, in consequence, carried away but a faint idea of its real captivation, could have witnessed our performance; and some even began to plot how such a representation could be prepared for her Majesty’s next visit to Hungary. While they thus talked, supper was announced; and as the company were marshalling themselves into the order to move forward, I took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed to my room, well remembering that my presence there was the result of accident, and that nothing but a generous courtesy could regard me as a guest.
I had not been many minutes in my room when I heard a footstep in the corridor. I turned the key in my lock, and put out my light.
“Herr Engländer! Herr Engländer!” cried a servant’s voice, as a sharp knocking shook the door. I made no reply, and he retreated.
It was clear to me that an invitation had been sent after me; and this thought filled the measure of my self-gratulation, and I drew nigh my fire, to sit and weave the pleasant-est fancies that had crossed my mind for many a long day.
I waited for some time, sitting by the firelight, and then relit my lamp. I had a long letter to write to Mademoiselle Sara; for up to then I had said nothing of my arrival, nor given any account of the Schloss Hunyadi.
Had my task been simply to record my life and my impressions of those around me at Hunyadi, nothing could well have been much easier. My few days there had been actually crammed with those small and pleasant incidents which tell well in gossiping correspondence. It was all, too, so strange, so novel, so picturesque, that, to make an effective tableau of such a life, was merely to draw on memory.
There was a barbaric grandeur, on the whole, in the vast building; its crowds of followers, its hordes of retainers who came and went, apparently at no bidding but their own; in the ceaseless tide of travellers who, hospited for the night, went their way on the morrow, no more impressed by the hospitality, to all seeming, than by a thing they had their own valid right to. Details there were of neglect and savagery, that even an humble household might have been ashamed of, but these were lost – submerged, as it were – in that ocean of boundless extravagance and cost, and speedily lost sight of.
It was now my task to tell Sara all this, colored by the light – a warm light, too – of my own enjoyment of it. I pictured the place as I saw it on the night I came, and told how I could not imagine for a while in what wild’ region I found myself; I narrated the way in which I was assigned my place in this strange world, with Ober-jagers and Unter-jagers for my friends, who mounted me and often accompanied me in my rides; how I had seen the vast territories from hill-tops and eminences which pertained to the great Count, boundless plains that in summer would have been waving with yellow corn, and far-stretching woods of oak or pine lost in the long distance; and, last of all, coming down to the very moment I was writing, I related the incident by which I had been promoted to the society of the castle, and how I had passed my first evening.
My pen ran rapidly along as I told of the splendors and magnificence of the scene, and of a company whose brilliant costume filled up the measure of the enchantment. “They pass and repass before me, in all their gorgeous bravery, as I write; the air vibrates with the music, and unconsciously my foot keeps time with the measure of that csardas, that spins and whirls before me till my brain reels with a mad intoxication.”
It was only when I read over what I had written, that I became aware of the questionable taste of recording these things to one who, perhaps, was to read them after a day of heavy toil or a sleepless night of watching. What will she think of me, thought I, if it be thus I seem to discharge the weighty trust confided to me? Was it to mingle in such revelries I came here, or will she deem that these follies are the fitting prelude to a grave and difficult negotiation? For a moment I had half determined to throw my letter in the fire, and limit myself simply to saying that I had arrived, and was awaiting the Count’s return! but my pride, or rather my vanity, carried the day; I could not repress the delight I felt to be in a society I clung to by so many interesting ties, and to show that here I was in my true element, – here breathing the air that was native to me.
“I am not to be supposed to forget,” I wrote, “that it was not for these pleasures you sent me here, for I bear well in mind why I have come, and what I have to do. Count Hunyadi is, however, absent, and will not return before the end of the week, by which time I fully hope that I shall have assured such a position here as will mainly contribute to my ability to serve you. I pray you, therefore, to read this letter by the light of the assurance I now give, and though I may seem to lend myself too easily to pleasure, to believe that no seductions of amusement, no flatteries of my self-love, shall turn me from the devotion I owe you, and from the fidelity to which I pledge my life.” With this I closed my letter and addressed it.
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SALON
The morning after my csardas success, a valet in discreet black brought me a message from the Countess that she expected to see me at her table at dinner, and from him I learned the names and rank of the persons I had met the night before. They were all of that high noblesse which in Hungary assumes a sort of family prestige, and by frequent intermarriage really possesses many of the close familiar interests of the family. Austrians, or indeed Germans from any part, are rarely received in these intimate gatherings, and I learned with some surprise that the only strangers were an English “lord” and his countess – so the man styled them – who were then amongst the guests. “The Lord” was with the Count on the shooting excursion; my Lady being confined to her room by a heavy cold she had caught out sledging.
Shall I be misunderstood if I own that I was very sorry to hear that an Englishman and a man of title was amongst the company? Whatever favor foreigners might extend to any small accomplishments I could lay claim to, I well knew would not compensate in my countryman’s eyes for my want of station. In my father’s house I had often had occasion to remark that while Englishmen freely admitted the advances of a foreigner, and accepted his acquaintance with a courteous readiness, with each other they maintained a cold and studied reserve; as though no difference of place or circumstance was to obliterate that insular code which defines class, and limits each man to the exact rank he belongs to.
When they shall see, therefore, thought I, how my titled countryman will treat me, – the distance at which he will hold me, and the measured firmness with which he will repel, not my familiarities, for I should not dare them, but simply the ease of my manner, – these foreigners will be driven to regard me as some ignoble upstart who has no pretension whatever to be amongst them. I was very unwilling to encounter this humiliation. It was true I was not sailing under false colors. I had assumed no pretensions from which I was now to retreat. I had nothing to disown or disavow; but still I was about to be the willing guest of a society, to a place in which in my own country I could not have the faintest pretension; and it was just possible that my countryman might bring this fact before me.
He might do worse, – he might question me as to who and what I was; nor was I very sure how my tact or my temper might carry me through such an ordeal.
Would it not be wiser and better for me to avoid this peril? Should I not spare myself much mortification and much needless pain? Thus thinking, I resolved to wait on the Countess at once, and explain frankly why I felt obliged to decline the gracious courtesy she had extended to me, and refuse an honor so full of pleasure and of pride.
She was not alone as I entered, – the Countess Palfi was with her, – and I scarcely knew how to approach my theme in presence of a third person. With a bold effort, however, I told what I had come for; not very collectedly, indeed, nor perhaps very intelligibly, but in such a way as to convey that I had not courage to face what might look at least like a false position, and was almost sure to entail all the unpleasant relations of such. “In fact, Madam,” said I, “I am nobody; and in my country men of rank never associate with nobodies, even by an accident. My Lord would not forgive you for throwing him into such acquaintanceship, and I should never forgive myself for having caused you the unpleasantness. I don’t imagine I have made my meaning very clear.”
“You have certainly made me very uncomfortable,” broke in Countess Hunyadi, thoughtfully. “I thought that we Hungarians had rather strict notions on these subjects, but these of your country leave them miles behind.”
“And are less reasonable, besides,” said the Palfi, “since your nobility is being continually recruited from so rich a bourgeoisie.”
“At all events,” cried the Countess, suddenly, “we are here at Schloss Hunyadi, and I am its mistress. I invite you to dine with me; it remains for you to decide how you treat my invitation.”
“Put in that way, Madam, I accept with deference;” and I bowed deeply and moved towards the door. The ladies acknowledged my salute in silence, and I fancied with coldness, and I retired.
I was evidently mistaken in attributing coldness to their manner; the ladies received me when I appeared at dinner with a marked cordiality, I sat next Madame Palfi, who talked to me like an old friend, told me who the various people at table were, and gave me great pleasure by saying that I was sure to become a favorite with Count Hunyadi, who delighted in gayety, and cherished all those that promoted it. Seeing what interest I took in the ways of Hungarian life, she explained many of the customs I saw around me, which, deriving from a great antiquity, were doubtless soon destined to give way before the advance of a higher civilization. I asked what she knew of the English guests. It was nothing, or next to nothing, – Count Hunyadi had made their acquaintance at Baden that summer, and invited them to pass their Christmas with him. Countess Palfi had herself arrived since they came, and had not seen them; for “my Lord,” as he was generally called, had left at once to join the shooting-party, and my Lady had not appeared since the day after her arrival. “I only know that she is a great beauty, and of most charming manners. The men all rave of her, so that we are half jealous already. We were expecting to see her at dinner to-day, but we hear that she is less well than yesterday.”
“Do you know their name?”
“No; I believe I heard it, – but I am not familiar with English names, and it has escaped me; but I will present you by and by to Count Greorge Szechenyi, who was at Baden when the Hunyadi met them, – he’ll tell you more of them.”
I assured her that my curiosity was most amply satisfied already. It was a class, in which I could not expect to find an acquaintance, far less a friend.
“There is something almost forced in this humility of yours,” cried she. “Are we to find out some fine morning that you are a prince in disguise?” She laughed so merrily at her own conceit that Madame Hunyadi asked the cause of her mirth.
“I will tell you later on,” said she. We soon afterwards rose to go into the drawing-room, and I saw as they laughed together that she had told her what she said.
“Do you know,” said the Countess Hunyadi, approaching me, “I am half of Madame Palfi’s mind, and I shall never rest till you reveal your secret to us?”
I said something laughingly about my incognito being the best coat in my wardrobe, and the matter dropped. That night I sang several times, alone, and in duet with the Palfi, and was overwhelmed with flatteries of my “fresh tenor voice” and my “admirable method.” It was something so new and strange to me to find myself the centre of polite attentions, and of those warm praises which consummate good breeding knows how to bestow without outraging taste, that I found it hard to repress the wild delight that possessed me.
If I had piqued their curiosity to find out who or what I was, I had also stimulated my own ambition to astonish them.
“He says he will ride out with me to-morrow, and does n’t care if I give him a lively mount,” said one, speaking of me.
“And you mean to gratify him, George?” asked another.
“He shall have the roan that hoisted you out of the saddle with his hind quarters.”
“Come, come, gentlemen, I’ll not have my protégé injured to gratify your jealousies,” said Madame Hunyadi; “he shall be my escort.”
“If he rides as he plays billiards, you need not be much alarmed about him. The fellow can do what he likes at the cannon game.”
“I ‘d give fifty Naps to know his history,” cried another.
I was playing chess as he said this, and, turning my head quietly around, I said, “The secret is not worth half the money, sir; and if it really interests you, you shall have it for the asking.”
He muttered out a mass of apologies and confused excuses, to all the embarrassment of which I left him most pitilessly, and the incident ended. I saw, however, enough to perceive that if I had won the suffrages of the ladies, the men of the party had conceived an undisguised dislike of me, and openly resented the favor shown me.
“What can you do with the foils, young gentleman?” whispered Szechenyi to me, as he came near.
“Pretty much as I did with you at billiards awhile ago,” said I, insolently; for my blood was up, and I burned to fix a quarrel somewhere.
“Shall we try?” asked he, dryly.
“If you say without the buttons, I agree.”
“Of course, I mean that.”
I nodded, and he went on, —
“Come down to the riding-school by the first light tomorrow then, and I ‘ll have all in readiness.”
I gave another nod of assent, and moved away. I had enough on my hands now; for, besides other engagements, I had promised the Countess Palfi to arrange a little piece for private theatricals, and have it ready by the time of Count Hunyadi’s return. So far from feeling oppressed or overwhelmed by the multiplicity of these cares, they stimulated me to a degree of excitement almost maddening. Failure somewhere seemed inevitable, and, for the life of me, I could not choose where it should be. As my spirits rose, I threw off all the reserve I had worn before, and talked away with an animation and boldness I felt uncontrollable. I made calembourgs, and dashed off impromptu verses at the piano; and when, culminating in some impertinence by a witty picture of the persons around me I had convulsed the whole room with laughter, I sprang up, and, saying good-night, disappeared.
The roars of their laughter followed me down the corridor, nor did they cease to ring in my ears till I had closed my door.
CHAPTER XXIX. AN UNLOOKED-FOR MEETING
I could more easily record my sensations in the paroxysm of a fever than recall how I passed that night. I am aware that I wrote a long letter to my mother, and a longer to Sara, both to be despatched in case ill befell me in my encounter. What I said to either, or how I said it, I know not.
No more can I explain why I put all my papers together in such fashion that they could be thrown into the fire at once, without leaving any, the slightest, clew to trace me by. That secret, which I had affected to hold so cheaply, did in reality possess some strange fascination for me, and I desired to be a puzzle and an enigma even after I was gone.
It wanted one short hour of dawn when I had finished; but I was still too much excited to sleep. I knew how unfavorably I should come to the encounter before me with jarred nerves and the weariness of a night’s watching; but it was too late now to help that; too late, besides, to speculate on what men would say of such a causeless duel, brought on, as I could not conceal from myself, by my hot temper. By the time I had taken my cold bath my nerves became more braced, and I scarcely felt a trace of fatigue or exhaustion. The gray morning was just breaking as I stole quietly downstairs and issued forth into the courtyard. A heavy fall of snow had occurred in the night, and an unbroken expanse of billowy whiteness spread ont before me, save where, from a corner of the court, some foot-tracks led towards the riding-school. I saw, therefore, that I was not the first at the tryst, and I hastened on in all speed.
Six or eight young men, closely muffled in furs, stood at the door as I came up, and gravely uncovered to me. They made way for me to pass in without speaking; and while, stamping the snow from my boots, I said something about the cold of the morning, they muttered what might mean assent or the reverse in a low half-sulky tone, that certainly little invited to further remark.
For a few seconds they talked together in whispers, and then a tall ill-favored fellow, with a deep scar from the cheek-bone to the upper lip, came abruptly up to me.
“Look here, young fellow,” said he. “I am to act as your second; and though, of course, I ‘d like to know that the man I handled was a gentleman, I do not ask you to tell anything about yourself that you prefer to keep back. I would only say that, if ugly consequences come of this stupid business, the blame must fall upon you. Your temper provoked it, is that not true?”
I nodded assent, and he went on.
“So far, all right. The next point is this. We are all on honor that, whatever happens, not a word or a syllable shall ever escape us. Do you agree to this?”
“I agree,” said I, calmly.
“Give me your hand on it.”
I gave him my hand; and as he held it in his own, he said, “On the faith of a gentleman, I will never reveal to my last day what shall pass here this morning.”
I repeated the words after him, and we moved on into the school.
I had drawn my sofa in front of the fire, and, stretching myself on it, fell into a deep dreamless sleep. A night’s wakefulness, and the excitement I had gone through, had so far worked upon me that I did not hear the opening of my door, nor the tread of a heavy man as he came forward and seated himself by the fire. It was only the cold touch of hi» fingers on the wrist as he felt my pulse that at last aroused me.
“Don’t start, don’t flurry yourself,” said he, calmly, to me. “I am the doctor. I have been to see the other, and I promised to look in on you.”
“How is he? Is it serious?”
“It will be a slow affair. It was an ugly thrust, – all the dorsal muscles pierced, but no internal mischief done.”
“He will certainly recover then?”
“There is no reason why he should not. But where is this scratch of yours? Let me see it.”
“It is a nothing, doctor, – a mere nothing. Pray take no trouble about it.”
“But I must I have pledged myself to examine your wound; and I must keep my word.”
“Surely these gentlemen are scarcely so very anxious about me,” said I, in some pique. “Not one of them vouchsafed to see me safe home, though I had lost some blood, and felt very faint!”
“I did not say it was these gentlemen sent me here,” said he, dryly.
“Then who else knew anything about this business?”
“If you must know, then,” said he, “it is the English Countess who is staying here, and whom I have been attending for the last week. How she came to hear of this affair I cannot tell you, for I know it is a secret to the rest of the house; but she made me promise to come and see you, and if there was nothing in your wound to forbid it, to bring you over to her dressing-room, and present you to her. And now let me look at the injury.”
I took off my coat, and, baring my arm, displayed a very ugly thrust, which, entering above the wrist, came out between the two bones of the arm.
“Now I call this the worst of the two,” said he, examining it “Does it give you much pain?”
“Some uneasiness; nothing more. When may I see the Countess?” asked I; for an intense curiosity to meet her had now possessed me.
“If you like, you may go at once; not that I can accompany you, for I am off for a distant visit; but her rooms are at the end of this corridor, and you enter by the conservatory. Meanwhile I must bandage this arm in somewhat better fashion than you have done.”
While he was engaged in dressing my wound, he rambled on about the reckless habits that made such rencontres possible. “We are in the middle of the seventeenth century here, with all its barbarisms,” said he. “These young fellows were vexed at seeing the notice you attracted; and that was to their thinking cause enough to send you off with a damaged lung or a maimed limb. It’s all well, however, as long as Graf Hunyadi does not hear of it. But if he should, he’ll turn them out, every man of them, for this treatment of an Englishman.”