Hungarian fiction -- Translations into English; Hungary -- History -- 1699-1848 -- Fiction
It was after midnight. The pole of "Charles's Wain" in the heavens stood
upward. Ludwig approached the watch-fire, and told the lieutenant on
guard that he might go to his tent, that he, Vavel, would take his
place for the remainder of the night. Then he let the reins drop on the
neck of his horse, and while the beast grazed on the luxuriant grass,
his rider, with his carbine resting in the hollow of his arm, continued
the night watch. The night was very still; the air was filled with
odorous exhalations, which rose from the earth after the shower in the
early part of the evening. From time to time a shooting star sped on its
course across the sky.
One after the other, Ludwig Vavel read the two letters he carried in his
breast. He did not need to take them from their hiding-place in order to
read them. He knew the contents by heart--every word. One of them was a
love-letter he had received from his betrothed; the other was the Judas
message of his enemy and Marie's.
At one time he would read the love-letter first; then that of the
arch-plotter. Again, he would change the order of perusal, and test the
different sensations--the bitter after the sweet, the sweet after the
bitter.
Suddenly, through the silence of the night, he heard the distant tinkle
of a mule-bell. It came nearer and nearer. He heard the outpost's "Halt!
Who comes there?" and heard the pleasant-voiced response: "Good evening,
friend. God bless you."
"Ah!" muttered Ludwig, with a scornful smile, "my beautiful bride is
sending another supply of dainties. How much she thinks of me!"
The mule-bell came nearer and nearer.
By the light of the watch-fire Vavel could see the familiar red kerchief
the farmer's wife from the manor was wont to wear over her head. The
mule came directly toward the watch-fire, and stopped when close to
Vavel's horse. The woman riding the beast slipped quickly to the ground,
emptied the provisions from the hampers, then, lifting the object which
had been concealed in the bottom of one of them, came around to Vavel's
side, saying:
"It is I. I have come to seek you."
"Who is it?" he demanded sternly, recognizing the voice; "Katharina or
Themire?"
"Katharina--Katharina; it is Katharina," stammered the trembling woman,
looking pleadingly up into his forbidding face.
"And why have you come here?"
"I came to bring you this," she replied, holding toward him the steel
casket.
"Where is Marie?"
"She is safe--with the Marquis d'Avoncourt."
"What?" exclaimed Vavel, in amazement, flinging his carbine on the
ground. "Cambray--d'Avoncourt--_here_?"
"Yes; he is at the Nameless Castle, and Marie is with him."
"After all, there is a God in heaven!" with deep-toned thankfulness
ejaculated Ludwig. Then he added: "Oh, Katharina, how I have suffered
because of--Themire!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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