The Interpreter: A Tale of the War Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  FATHER AND SON

  The Count's old steward has seen all go to rest in the castle; the lordshave left the banqueting-room, and the servants, who have been makingmerry in the hall, are long ere this sound asleep. It is the steward'scustom to see all safe before he lights his lamp and retires to rest;but to-night he shades it carefully with a wrinkled hand that tremblesstrangely, and his white face peers into the darkness, as though he wereabout some deed of shame. He steals into the Ghost's Gallery, and creepssilently to the farther end. There is a dark object muffled in a cloakin the gloomiest corner, and the light from the steward's lamp reveals afine young man, sleeping with that thorough abandonment which is onlyobservable in those who are completely outwearied and overdone. It issome minutes ere the old man can wake him.

  "My boy!" says he; "my boy, it is time for us to part. Hard, hard is itto be robbed of my son--robbed----" and the old man checks himself asthough the word recalled some painful associations.

  "Ay, father," was the reply, "you know our old Croatian proverb, 'He whosteals is but a borrower.' Nevertheless, I do not wish the Austrians to'borrow' me, in case I should never be returned; and it is unmannerlyfor the lieutenant to occupy the same quarters as the general. I mustbe off before dawn; but surely it cannot be midnight yet."

  "In less than an hour the day will break, my son. I have concealed youhere because not a servant of the household dare set foot in the Ghost'sGallery till daylight, and you are safe; but twenty-four more hours mustsee you on the Danube, and you must come here no more. Oh, my boy! myboy!--lost to save me!--dishonoured that I might not be disgraced!--myboy! my boy!"--and the old man burst into a passion of weeping thatseemed to convulse his very frame with agony.

  The son had more energy and self-command; his voice did not even shakeas he soothed and quieted the old man with a protecting fondness likethat of a parent for a child. "My father," said he, "there is nodishonour where there is no guilt. My first duty is to you, and were itto do again, I would do it. What? it was but a momentary qualm and asnatch at the box; and _now_ you are safe. Father, I shall come backsome day, and offer you a home. Fear not for me. I have it _here_ in mybreast, the stuff of which men make fortunes. I can rely upon myself.I can obey orders; and, father, when others are bewildered and confused,I can _command_. I feel it; I know it. Let me but get clear of the'Eagle's' talons, and fear not for me, dear father, I shall see youagain, and we will be prosperous and happy yet. But, how to getaway?--have you thought of a plan? Can I get a good horse here? Doesthe Count know I am in trouble, and will he help me? Tell me all,father, and I shall see my own way, I will answer for it."

  "My gallant boy!" said the steward, despite of himself moved toadmiration by the self-reliant bearing of his son; "there is but onechance; for the Count could not but hand you over to Wallenstein if heknew you were in the castle, and then it would be a pleasant jest, andthe nearest tree. The General is a jovial comrade and a good-humouredacquaintance; but, as a matter of duty, he would hang his own son and goto dinner afterwards with an appetite none the worse. No, no. 'Trustto an Austrian's mercy and confess yourself!' I have a better plan thanthat. The Zingynies are in the village; they held their merrymakinghere yesterday. I saw their Queen last night after you arrived. I havearranged it all with her. A gipsy's dress, a dyed skin, and the middleof the troop; not an Austrian soldier in Hungary that will detect youthen. Banishment is better than death. Oh, my boy! my boy!" and oncemore the old man gave way and wept.

  "Forward, then, father!" said the young man, whom I now recognised as mytravelling acquaintance; "there is no time to lose now. How can we getout of the castle without alarming the household? I leave all to younow; it will be my turn some day." And as he spoke he rose from thesteps on which he had been lying when his recumbent form had so alarmedVictor and myself, and accompanied his father down a winding staircasethat seemed let into the massive wall of the old building. My curiositywas fearfully excited. I would have given all my playthings to followthem. I crept stealthily on, naked feet and all; but I was not closeenough behind, and the door shut quietly with a spring just as my handwas upon it, leaving me alone in the Ghost's Gallery. I was not theleast frightened now. I forgot all about ghosts and Breviaries, andstole back to my nursery and my bed, my little head completely filledwith a medley of stewards and soldiers and gipsies, and Austriangenerals and military executions, and phantom dogs and secretstaircases, and all the most unlikely incidents that crowd together inthat busy organ--a child's brain.