Maurus Jokai - The Nameless Castle

The count hastened from his observatory.

First he wakened Henry.

“Robbers have broken into the manor, Henry!”

“The rascals certainly chose a good time to do it; now that the moon is in shadow, no one will see them,” sleepily returned Henry.

“I saw them, and I am going to scare them away.”

“We can fire off our guns from here; that will scare them,” suggested Henry.

“Are you out of your senses, Henry? We should frighten Marie; and were she to learn that there are robbers in the neighborhood, she would want to go away from here, and you know we are chained to this place.”

“Yes; then I don’t know what we can do. Shall I go down and rouse the village?”

“So that you may be called on to testify before a court, and be compelled to tell who you are, what you are, and how you came here?” impatiently interposed the count.

“That is true. Then I can’t raise an alarm?”

“Certainly not. Do as I tell you. Stop here in the castle, take your station in front of Marie’s door, and I will go over to the manor. Give me your walking-stick.”

“What? You are going after the robbers with a walking-stick?”

“They are only petty thieves; they are not real robbers. Men of this sort will run when they hear a footstep. Besides, there are only four of them.”

“Four against one who has nothing but a cudgel!”

“In which is concealed a sharp poniard—a very effective weapon at close quarters,” supplemented the count. “But don’t stop here talking, Henry. Fetch the stick, and my driving-coat, into the pocket of which put my bloodletting instruments. Some one might faint over yonder, and I should need them.”

Henry brought the stick and coat. Only after he had gone some distance from the castle did Count Vavel notice that some heavy object kept thumping against his side. The faithful Henry had smuggled a double-barreled pistol into the pocket of his coat, in addition to the bloodletting instruments. The count did not take the road which ran around the cove to the manor, but hurried to the shore, where he sprang into his canoe, and with a few powerful strokes of the oars reached the opposite shore. A few steps took him to the manor. His heart beat rapidly. He had a certain dread of the coming meeting—not the meeting with the robbers, but with the baroness.

The gates of the manor were open, as was usual in Hungarian manors day and night. The count crossed the court, and as he turned the corner of the house there happened what he had predicted: the masked man who was on watch at the door gave a shrill whistle, then dashed into the shrubbery. Count Vavel did not give chase to the fleeing thief, but, swinging his cudgel around his head, ran through the open door into the hall. Here a lamp was burning. He hurried into the salon, and saw, as he entered, two more of the robbers jump from the window into the garden.

Count Ludwig hurried on toward the adjoining room, whence came the faint light of a lamp. The light came from another room still farther on. It was the sleeping-chamber of the lady of the house. There were no robbers here, but on the table lay jewelry and articles of silver which had been emptied from the cases lying about the floor. In an arm-chair which stood near the bed-alcove reclined a female form, the arms and hands firmly bound with cords to the chair.

What a beautiful creature! The clinging folds of her dressing-robe revealed the perfect proportions of her figure. Her hair fell like a golden cataract to the floor. Modest blushes and joy at her deliverance made the lovely face even more enchanting when the knightly deliverer entered the room—a hero who came with a cudgel to do battle against a band of robbers, and conquered!

“I am Count Vavel,” he hastened to explain, cudgel in hand, that the lady might not think him another robber and fall into a faint.

“Pray release me,” in a low tone begged the lady, her cheeks crimsoning with modest shame when he bent over her to untie the cords.

The task was quickly performed; the count took a knife from his pocket and cut the cords; then he turned to look for a bell.

“Please don’t ring,” hastily interposed the baroness. “Don’t rouse my people from their slumbers. The robbers are gone, and have taken nothing. You came in good time to help me.”

“Did the rascals ill-treat you, baroness?”

“They only tied me to this chair; but they threatened to kill me if I refused to give them money—they were not content to take only my jewelry. I was about to give them an order to the steward, who has charge of my money, when your arrival suddenly ended the agreement we had made.”

“Agreement?” repeated the count. “A pretty business, truly!”

“Pray don’t speak so loudly; I don’t want any one to be alarmed—and please go into the next room, where you will find my maid, who is also bound.”

Count Vavel went into the small chamber which communicated with that of the baroness, and saw lying on the bed a woman whose hands and feet were bound; a handkerchief had been thrust into her mouth. He quickly released her from the cords and handkerchief; but she did not stir: she had evidently lost consciousness.

By this time the baroness had followed with a lighted candle. She had flung a silken shawl about her shoulders, thrust her feet into Turkish slippers, and tucked her hair underneath a becoming lace cap.

“Is she dead?” she asked, lifting an anxious glance to Ludwig’s face.

“No, she is not dead,” replied the count, who was attentively scanning the unconscious woman’s face.

“What is the matter with her?” pursued the baroness, with evident distress.

The count now recognized the woman’s face. He had seen her with the lad who had been his protégé, and who was now a member of the baroness’s household. It was the wife of Satan Laczi.

“No, she is not dead,” he repeated; “she has only fainted.”

The baroness hastily fetched her smelling-salts, and held them to the unconscious woman’s nostrils.

“Peasant women have strong constitutions,” observed the count. “When such a one loses consciousness a perfume like that will not restore her; she needs to be bled.”

“But good heavens! What are we to do? I can’t think of sending for the doctor now! I don’t want him to hear of what has happened here to-night.”

“I understand bloodletting,” observed Vavel.

“You, Herr Count?”

“Yes; I have studied medicine and surgery.”

“But you have no lance.”

“I brought my chirurgic instruments with me.”

“Then you thought you might find here some one who had fainted?” exclaimed the baroness, wonderingly.

“Yes. I shall require the assistance of a maid to hold the woman’s arm while I perform the operation.”

“I don’t want any of the servants wakened. Can’t I—help you?” she suggested hesitatingly.

“Are not you afraid of the sight of blood, baroness?”

“Of course I am; but I will endure that rather than have one of my maids see you here at this hour.”

“But this one will see me when she recovers consciousness.”

“Oh, I can trust this one; she will be silent.”

“Then let us make an attempt.”

The result of the attempt was, the fainting maid was restored to consciousness by the skilfully applied lance, while the face of the assisting lady became deathly pale. Her eyes closed, her lips became blue. Fortunately, she had a more susceptible nature than her maid. A few drops of cold water sprinkled on her face, and the smelling-salts, quickly restored her to consciousness. During these few moments her head had rested on the young man’s shoulder, her form had been supported on his arm.

“Don’t trouble any further about me,” she murmured, when she opened her eyes and saw herself in Vavel’s arms; “but attend to that poor woman”; and she hastily rose from her recumbent position.