Hungarian fiction -- Translations into English; Hungary -- History -- 1699-1848 -- Fiction
Many hours were spent thus on the lake. The little maid never wearied of
the water. The protecting element restored to her nerves the strength
which the stepmotherly earth had taken from them. A promenade of a
hundred steps would tire her so that she would have to stop and rest.
She had become unused to walking. But here in the water she moved about
like a Naiad; her whole being was transformed; she lived! Then, when her
guardian would call her, she would swim back to the canoe, clamber into
it, and spread her long hair over his knees to dry while they rowed back
to the shore. Poor little maid! She declared she had found happiness in
the water.
* * * * *
One evening, after the waning moon had risen, Ludwig's canoe, as usual,
followed Marie, who was swimming a considerable distance ahead. Among
the peculiarities of Neusiedl Lake are its numerous islets, the shores
of which are thickly grown with rushes, and covered with broom and tall
trees. Such an island lay not far from the shore in front of the
Nameless Castle; it had frequently aroused Marie's curiosity.
The little maid was now permitted to swim as far out into the open world
of waves as she desired, only now and again signaling her whereabouts
through a clear-toned "Ho, ho!"
During this time Ludwig reclined in his boat, and while the waves gently
rocked him, he gazed dreamily into the depths of the starry sky, and
listened to the mysterious voices of the night--the moaning, murmuring,
echoing voices floating across the surface of the water.
Suddenly a piercing scream mingled with the mysterious voices of the
night. It was Marie's voice.
Frantic with terror, Ludwig seized his oars, and the canoe shot through
the water in the direction of the scream.
The trail of light left behind her by the swimmer was visible on the
calm surface of the lake. Suddenly it made an abrupt turn, and began to
form a gigantic V. Evidently the little maid was impelled by desperate
terror to reach the protecting canoe. When she came abreast of it she
uttered a second cry, convulsively grasped the edge of the boat, and
cast a terrified glance backward.
"Marie!" cried the count, greatly alarmed, seizing the girdle about her
waist and lifting her into the canoe. "What has happened? Who is
following you?"
The child trembled violently; her teeth chattered, and she gasped for
breath, unable to speak; only her large eyes were still fixed with an
expression of horror on the water.
Ludwig looked searchingly around, but could see nothing. And yet, after
a few seconds, something rose before him.
What was it? Man or beast?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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