CHAPTER XXV.IMPRISONED AT ARAD.Von Theyer met me at the inn door, but he was busy giving orders that a detachment of troops should mount and scour the district.Candles and flaring torches burned in the kitchen, and by their light I saw three men, all badly wounded, lying side by side.At the farther end of the apartment lay Ober, and the hussars pulled and hustled me towards his body.Poor fellow! He was quite dead, and close by I saw the keen blade, now stained with blood, that had slain him.His comrades uttered loud threats of vengeance, and one man, pressing the muzzle of his pistol against my forehead, swore he would shoot me.Another pulled him back, saying he might safely leave me to the colonel, who would not fail to avenge the dead hussar.For myself, I was in a state of utter bewilderment, and looked at the brawny, rough-voiced men like a dazed child.The long-continued excitement and the dramatic close of the incident had for the time clouded my brain, and, beyond the fact that Ober was dead, I grasped nothing clearly.Then above the babel of sounds I heard a voice ordering in tones of command that my arms should be bound afresh.This the men did very willingly, and in their anger they tied the knots so tightly that the pain almost caused me to faint.Then two of them led me into the next room, where Von Theyer sat, with a pair of pistols on the table beside him."That will do," he exclaimed harshly. "Leave him there. Now go outside and wait. Don't be frightened if you hear the report of a pistol. I'm in no danger."The men saluted and withdrew, leaving me facing their colonel.At the sight of that face with the hideous scar my senses and my manhood returned to me. I remembered that I came of a race of Magyar nobles, and resolved to show myself worthy to bear their name."George Botskay, once a so-called captain in the rebel army, but now an associate of thieves and murderers, I demand to know the name of the villain by whose aid you have stabbed an unoffending man to death."At this implied accusation of a cowardly crime my face flushed, and I cried hotly,--"I throw the lie in your teeth, Colonel von Theyer. My hands are free from innocent blood, as you well know, though it may suit your purpose to declare otherwise."Von Theyer laughed, and his lips assumed a cruel curve that was not pleasant to see."You are right," said he coldly. "It does suit my purpose. Can you guess why I did not hang you by the side of your friend Count Beula? I had another plan, and this night's work has made its success certain. Look at me, George Botskay, and see for what I have to thank you. In Vienna you worked me harm enough, but this, this--" And he half choked as he laid his hand on his scarred cheek."I am truly sorry for your disfigurement," I replied, "but it happened in the heat of battle and with no malice on my part.""Perhaps when I have made you suffer I shall be sorry too," he said flippantly. "We shall see. I could hang you now--your life is forfeit to the laws; but that is not my wish. I am going to brand your name, so that it shall be carried to Vienna as the name of a common thief and assassin. I will make the Austrian government your judge and your executioner. When you have been publicly disgraced and hung, Fräulein Theresa may not be quite so proud of her Hungarian friend.""You are a coward and a scoundrel," I cried contemptuously, "and may do as you please;" but for all my brave words the barbed shaft had struck home.Von Theyer saw this, and was beginning to laugh, when he caught sight of the locket, which showed through my disordered apparel.Apparently he recognized it, as he sprang forward to remove it; and then he saw the baron's ring."Oh, oh!" he cried; "this is famous! So you have been robbing the dead! I think this will add an extra spice to my revenge."Dragging the ring from my finger, he called his men to take me away and guard me closely.By this time day was breaking; and the soldiers, unable to sleep, got ready their morning meal.As no one offered me any, I went without, which was not an agreeable method of beginning the day.However, they gave me plenty of rope instead, and I was firmly fastened on Ober's horse, while two men with levelled pistols rode one on either side of me.The detachment sent out during the night met us a few miles from the village, and the officer reported they had been unable to find any trace of the mysterious stranger.Talking amongst themselves, the hussars declared that the daring intruder must have been Batori Gabor, and I held that opinion too.Rakoczy was a prisoner, and Mecsey Sándor far away, so that unless one of the disbanded soldiers had performed the deed, the robber-captain was the only person left to suspect.However, the scheme had failed, and I was more strongly guarded than before.Von Theyer gave the strictest orders to the two troopers, one of whom was Franz, the comrade of the dead Ober.This man eyed me most maliciously, and I felt sure he would be a splendid tool in furthering the colonel's scheme.From boyhood, riding had been one of my chief pleasures; but this new style, tied hand and foot and bound to a horse's back, was a novelty I did not appreciate.Towards noon we halted beside a pleasant stream, a tributary of the Maros; and having attended to the animals, the men sat down to their frugal dinner.Now, since there is no satisfaction to be obtained in hanging a dead man, Von Theyer was compelled to give me some food; and this, with the temporary freedom of my arms, was a great relief.Having finished their black bread and cheese, most of the men began to smoke. Some rolled out their greatcoats and went to sleep, while others played strange games with packs of well-thumbed cards.The halt lasted perhaps two hours, when the bugles sounded, and we were again in motion.By this time Von Theyer had evidently abandoned all hope of catching the robbers, as we rode at a sober pace, and finished the day's march long before sunset.Our new quarters were in a fair-sized village, and I was rather amused by the precautions taken to ensure my safety.Six men were placed in the same room, and a sentry was posted outside the door.If any accident occurred during the night, the colonel promised to hang them all without exception; and as Von Theyer was a man of his word, the troopers regarded his threat with respect.Poor fellows! In spite of my own risky position I pitied them; they were like men suffering from a bad form of nightmare.After a meagre supper, quickly dispatched, my arms were rebound, and I was bundled into a corner, the sergeant in charge of the guard warning me not to move, which was rather unnecessary advice.Two of the hussars stood over me with drawn swords, the others sat on a bench waiting for their spell of duty. I don't think any of them went to sleep.About midnight Von Theyer himself paid us a visit; and the guard, springing to their feet, presented arms.He glanced round the room with an approving smile, and said,--"Well, sergeant, I think your prisoner will have small chance of stabbing any one to-night."The sergeant smiled at the compliment to his vigilance, and the colonel came over to my corner.Not caring to bandy words with him before his men, I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep, and after a minute or two he went away.The night passed wearily enough, for although I managed to sleep, my rest was broken by feverish dreams, and I gladly welcomed the coming of another day.For some reason unknown to me we did not set out till ten o'clock; and when, after an uneventful journey, we rode into the town of Arad, the autumn afternoon was fast blending into evening.The inhabitants of the old market-town swarmed out to see the Austrian cavalry, and many glances of compassion and pity were directed on the bound and helpless prisoner in their midst.A few expressed their sympathy audibly, but for the most part men, women, and children stood mournful indeed but silent.Alas! the glory of the Magyar had departed. Henceforth my unhappy countrymen must bend beneath the whips of their Austrian masters.Once we were startled by a mocking laugh from some one in the crowd, and Von Theyer frowned angrily as a clear voice sang out, "Let the colonel look to his guards. 'Twill be his turn next."The Austrian dashed towards the spot whence the words came, but he met only the innocent faces of terrified people, and for very shame's sake he dared not punish them.The voice roused me, for it was that of the man who had slain Ober in the kitchen of the inn; and now I knew the daring intruder had been Batori, the robber-captain.Others also guessed the secret, and Franz riding up to the colonel whispered something in his ear.Immediately the troopers were ordered to disperse, and in small parties to search every nook and cranny in both the old and the new town.Meanwhile Von Theyer, with half a dozen men who acted as my escort, rode to the bridge which spans one arm of the Maros, and connects Arad with the spit of land on which the fortress is built.The last time I had passed that way the red, white, and green stripes waved proudly from the ramparts. Now the black and yellow flag hung from the walls--an outward and visible sign of our defeat.A group of citizens stood on the river-bank to watch us go past, and my heart gave a great leap as I recognized amongst them the faithful Mecsey Sándor.He had discarded his uniform, and was dressed in civilian costume, though he could not altogether disguise his military carriage.His eyes looked straight into mine, and by a kind of dumb show he made me understand that Rakoczy was confined in Gros-Wardein.Then our little cavalcade swept by, the gates were thrown open, and we passed behind the frowning walls of the fortress.Here Von Theyer left us, and I soon received ample proof of how effectually he had blackened my character to the governor.Instead of being treated as an honourable though beaten enemy, I was roughly thrust into a small, dark cell, bare of furniture, and left to my own reflections till the morning, when a jailer, attended by several soldiers, brought me some food and untied my bonds.For this last attention I was extremely grateful, and ate my lump of dry black bread in an almost cheerful spirit.But as day followed day without change, the gloom and monotony oppressed me like a heavy weight. I grew moody and depressed, and in spite of a hard struggle was gradually driven to look upon the dark side of things.No news of any kind came to me in my narrow prison. The jailer refused to answer a question, saying the only matter I need trouble about was the date of my execution.At first I dreamed of making my escape, but this idea was soon abandoned, as I saw how hopeless any attempt must be.The cell door was of iron, the walls were strong and massive, and I had not so much as a nail to work with.Almost my sole dependence lay in Mecsey Sándor, yet what he could do I could not imagine.However, I tried hard not to despair, and resolved, if need be, to meet my fate bravely.In this manner more than a fortnight passed, when one morning, about two hours after my breakfast of black bread and water, I was surprised to hear the tramp of marching feet, which stopped opposite my cell.The key turned in the massive lock, the door opened, and I was harshly ordered to step outside.A number of soldiers with bayonets fixed waited. I was placed in the midst of them and hurried away.These men belonged to an infantry regiment, and were strangers to me, but it was plain they had formed a very unfavourable opinion of my character.Crossing the square, they halted in front of a low door, and the officer in command of the party signed to me to follow him.An antechamber was filled with soldiers, fully armed and standing at attention, while their faces were about as human as chiselled stone.Passing through, we entered a second apartment, where a dozen officers were seated round a baize-covered table littered with writing material.Recognizing that these men held my life in their hands, I looked at them eagerly.The president's chair was occupied by a tall old man with slightly-stooping shoulders, scanty white hair, and long, drooping, white moustaches.His face was bronzed, and his breast covered with numerous ribbons and medals, but his blue eyes were rather dreamy, and I thought he had much ado to keep himself awake.The officers who flanked him on either side of the table were of various ages, and belonged to different branches of the service, but they all sat as immovable as statues.The silence was so weird and oppressive that I welcomed the sound of the president's voice when he began the proceedings by asking my name."George Botskay," I proudly answered."Captain in the rebel army?" he went on, reading from a slip of paper."Captain on the staff of General Görgei, commander-in-chief of the Hungarian national forces," I replied.One of the stone griffins started into life at this, but the president petrified him again by a wave of the hand."Why did you not surrender with your leader?""Because I was absent on special duty.""It is stated here," said he, tapping the paper, "that you were at Vilagos on the thirteenth of August.""I was, but not with the army."The other stone men showed signs of life now, and the old warrior continued his examination."Was it not your duty, as a soldier of honour, to obey your chief's orders, and to give yourself up to the proper authorities?""That view of the question did not strike me," I answered, and quite honestly too. "I was not with the army, and therefore did not consider myself included in the surrender.""You preferred instead to join the band of a notorious robber?""That is false," I cried--"utterly false!"The president, though he did not look like a merciful man, was exceedingly polite."I am afraid," he said, "that the facts are against you. Colonel von Theyer, one of our best officers--""A rebel turncoat," I interrupted angrily."I do not think, Herr Botskay, that abuse of a trusted officer will do your case any good. His report expressly states that you were discovered with this band of robbers. Do you deny the truth of the charge?""I cannot; but my being there was the result of blind chance."The griffins actually smiled, which convinced me I was getting deeper into the mire, and that feeling was not lessened when the president said softly, "An unlucky chance for you, Herr Botskay, I fear.""It is the truth for all that," I said stoutly."Did Count Beula meet the robbers by accident also?""I cannot say. I know nothing of him.""Here again my information differs from your statement. The count was well known as an abettor of the massacres in Vienna, and it is laid down here that you were in personal communication with him at the beginning of the insurrection. Is that so?"The ground seemed to be slipping from under me."Count Beula was never a friend of mine," I said."One does not always make a friend of an accomplice," replied the president suavely. "But here is another question. Is it true that on any single occasion you attended a meeting of the Hungarian Committee?""That is easily explained," I began. "When--""Pardon me, general," interrupted one of my judges, "but I should like the prisoner to give a direct answer--yes or no--to the question. It is a simple matter. Did he or did he not, in October of 1848, attend a meeting of the Hungarian Committee?""If you will not allow me to explain, I shall refuse to answer at all," I exclaimed."Then," said the man who had spoken, "we shall be forced to draw our own conclusions;" and he sat down very red, but triumphant, amid a hum of approval."There is one other matter on which you might like to say a word," remarked the president blandly, "and that is the doing to death of the trooper Ober."To this I replied that the unfortunate man had not met his death at my hands, nor was I in any way responsible for the striking of the fatal blow.Here again I was confronted by further proof of how finely my enemy had woven the meshes of my net.According to the sworn evidence of the man Franz, he had seen the knife in my hand, and he had also seen me stab the hapless trooper to the heart.On the evidence supplied to them my judges could so easily find me guilty of almost any crime that I took little interest in the rest of the proceedings.Von Theyer had made such a skilful blend of fact and fiction that his story had all the appearance of unadulterated truth. On one point alone he had not fulfilled his threat; there was no allusion to the ring and miniature of the dead baron.I believe the president did mention vaguely some other charges, but as I could not be shot or hung twice over, these did not much matter.When he had finished his speech I bowed courteously, saluted the officers in military fashion, and followed the leader of the escort from the room.Once again I was placed in the midst of the soldiers, and marched back to my cell, where they left me without a word. I sat down on the wooden bench which was my sole article of furniture, and tried to think over my position.It seemed gloomy and hopeless enough, and turn which way I would, the only outlook was towards the scaffold.As far as I could understand, the Austrians claimed the right to hang me on either of two grounds--the refusal to surrender with Görgei at Vilagos, and the fact that I was caught in the company of a notorious band of robbers.The other points, such as my acquaintance with Count Beula and the slaying of the hussar, were mere garnishings, added by the wily Von Theyer to prejudice my judges, and prevent them tempering justice by mercy.In this there could be no doubt he succeeded perfectly, and I felt certain that whatever I might put forward in my defence would prove of no avail.Indeed it was likely enough my sentence had already been pronounced, and that at any moment I might be led out to execution. Every sound which reached my ears startled me, and a dozen times I stood up trying to calm the beatings of my heart.But the day passed, and at night the jailer brought my black bread and water, and went away again as usual without saying a word. I ate and drank feverishly, and then lay down on the narrow bench wondering what would happen before the next setting of the sun. Very slowly and wearily the dark hours crawled along, until, utterly worn out, I fell asleep, to be awakened, it seemed almost immediately, by the rattling of keys and the creaking of the iron door. In an instant I sprang to my feet, and waited with taut-strung nerves for the final ordeal.My visitor was the jailer, and as he placed my breakfast on the ground, I burst into a peal of hysterical laughter.CHAPTER XXVI.LED OUT TO EXECUTION.I pass rapidly over the period of suspense which succeeded my examination.Even now it is painful to look back on the time when I fully expected every hour of each ensuing day to be my last.Yet night and morning came and went, and I still remained in the dark cell, unable to learn anything concerning my fate.The only relief to the monotony was the coming of the jailer, and he was such a surly fellow that his visits gave me more pain than pleasure.A whole week passed in this way, and then I was again taken from the cell and marched to another part of the fortress.At every step I gazed round anxiously, expecting to see the preparations for my execution.Young, strong, and healthy, I had no wish to die; yet this horrible uncertainty, this alternation of hope and fear, was actually worse than death.The faces of the soldiers were stolid and impassive--nothing could be learned from them; while the officer did not even look at me. We crossed the courtyard, and my pulses throbbed with fresh hope as I was led into a spacious room, where a stout, florid man in military uniform sat at a table writing.Only two of the escort had entered with the officer, and these stood with fixed bayonets.The florid man left his chair, and pointing to another, said coldly,--"Sit down there, Herr Botskay. By order of the general commanding, you are to answer these questions in writing, an hour being given you for the task."To all appearance I was quite cool, but the blood surged through my veins like a rushing torrent, and I could not see the questions on the paper for dizziness.Apathy and despair vanished. The latent spark of hope kindled into a fresh flame. Here was another chance of life and freedom. Alas! my new and beautiful castle was built on very frail foundations.The questions numbered nearly a dozen, and were framed in such a manner that by answering them without adding the fullest explanations I should only make my case worse.A quarter of an hour passed, and I still sat staring stupidly at my blank sheet of paper.The soldiers stood grimly at attention, the officer leaned on his sword, the stout man sat writing stolidly; no sound but the monotonous ticking of the clock and the beating of my own heart broke the silence.At last, seizing the pen, I began to write--not in answer to the questions, but a short account of what had passed between Von Theyer and myself, and an explanation of how I came to be in the company of Batori Gabor.It was rather a lame performance, its chief merit being to afford a reason for Von Theyer's persecution; and when the official came to witness my signature, I felt it would do me but little good.Another week passed--a week of heart-wearing suspense--before I was again called to attend the court.A single glance at the faces of my judges extinguished the tiny spark of hope which struggled to keep alive in my breast.The president spoke in impressive tones, every word sounding distinctly in the quiet room.It was a long speech, but the whole of it might easily have been compressed into a dozen sentences.On the first two counts--refusing to surrender at Vilagos, and joining a band of notorious outlaws--I was unanimously found guilty, and sentenced to death.After this, one would have thought the rest to be of little interest, but the president gravely continued his remarks.The unlawful killing of Ober was also considered proved, and on the various other charges laid against me the court expressed no opinion."Therefore," concluded the president in a solemn voice, "it becomes my painful duty to tell you, George Botskay. that on the second morning from this you will be led out to execution in the market-place of this town, that your death may act as a warning to all those who vainly hope to oppose the imperial government."My limbs trembled, the blood left my face, but, managing to control my voice, I said calmly, "As a soldier, general, you will know a soldier's feelings. I do not plead for mercy, but there is one favour I would like to beg.""Speak on, Herr Botskay. It may be in our power to grant it.""Then I ask that you will at least permit me to die the death of a soldier, and not that of a criminal.""That," responded the old man, "is impossible, since you ceased to be a soldier when you joined Batori Gabor. As a brigand you were captured, as a brigand you must suffer;" and he waved his hand, directing that I should be removed.Back again in the lonely cell, my first feeling was one of relief that the period of suspense had ended.I could no longer be tortured by swift alternations of hopes and fears. The worst had come, and with it a feeling of apathetic stupor.But the next day, as I sat measuring off the hours by guess-work, a revulsion of feeling set in.Life was sweet, and all the throbbing vigour of my youth protested hotly against this violent and disgraceful death.Had it come when I charged with Görgei at the head of our cavalry, or when beside my noble-hearted brother I scaled the ramparts of Buda, the glow of patriotism, of devotion to my outraged country, would have removed half its terrors; but now, in this guise!Then my thoughts turned to the faithful Mecsey; to John Rakoczy, my true and gallant friend, whom I should never again see; finally passing to the Austrian maiden, whose fair face had never faded from my memory.Would she believe the untruths which Von Theyer would but too surely circulate?I shuddered to think what terrible stories his fertile brain might invent when I was no longer able to give them the lie.Yet, through it all, I never quite lost hope that the beautiful girl would keep her faith in my truth and honour; and this feeling sufficed to raise me from the slough of misery into which I was sinking.Night came at length, and the surly jailer brought my last supper, which I forced myself to eat.Then, after a solemn hour spent in prayer, I lay down on my hard bench and slept peacefully as a child.I had no means of telling the time, but the jailer apparently wakened me earlier than usual, and I was led into a room where, instead of the usual bread and water, a proper breakfast was laid. The apartment was filled with soldiers; and when I had finished, two of them, stepping forward, pinioned my arms tightly behind my back.It was, as near as I could judge, about ten o'clock when the governor entered, and, after a brief talk with one of the officers, ordered the procession to be formed.The air was keen, though the sun shone brightly overhead, as we proceeded slowly to the courtyard, where the soldiers halted.Two other detachments now joined us, and in the midst of each a prisoner walked bareheaded.They were both officers in Bern's army of Transylvania, so I did not know them, but we exchanged glances of pity and goodwill.One was an old man with scarred face and white, flowing beard, a veteran Pole, who had spent his life in warfare against the enemies of his country.His fellow-victim was quite young, hardly older than myself; but he bore himself as proudly as his comrade, gazing at the Austrians without a tremor.After a delay of ten minutes the arrangements were completed, and the booming of a big gun announced to the townsfolk that the mournful procession was about to issue from the gates of the fortress.The soldiers closed up their ranks, the order was issued, and we set out, my escort being the last of the three.I tried hard to march with steady step and unfaltering countenance, but it was hard work.The fresh morning air, the bright October sun, the merry flight of birds overhead, even the gaudy uniforms of the soldiers, spoke of life, and I was going to lose it.A lump rose in my throat as we passed through the gateway, but I remembered I was a Magyar, and choked it down.The pain and misery would soon be at an end, and the white-coats must not think me a coward.At minute intervals a gun was fired from the ramparts, and the church-bells of the town tolled mournfully in response.Crossing the one bridge which had not been destroyed during the war, we entered the town proper.I was astounded at the spectacle.Two lines of soldiers with loaded rifles guarded the route to the market-place, and kept back the crowds of people who stood on tiptoe and craned their necks in eager anxiety to catch a last view of those about to die.Not the populace of the town alone had assembled, but the inhabitants of all the surrounding districts had come in thousands to show respect to the victims of Austrian cruelty.The women sobbed as we went by, and looked at us with a yearning pity that almost broke down my composure. The eyes of the men flashed with fierce hate, and I thought it well that these brave Magyars had no weapons.Little children were held up in the arms of their fathers to see us, and were that day taught a lesson which they would not forget in many years.The nearer we approached our destination the denser the crowd became, while the market-place itself was so packed that several persons died of suffocation.There, during the preceding night, an enormous wooden stage had been erected, and in the centre was a tall gallows.At the sight of this, I confess freely, my heart sank, and I feared that my courage would desert me.Now just at this moment I saw the face of the gallant Mecsey Sándor, which acted on my nerves like a strong tonic.The faithful fellow stood in the very foremost of the crowd, immediately behind the soldiers, and opposite the steps by which the wide platform was reached.He was very mournful, yet the look in his eyes expressed something more than sorrow."Courage, my sweet master, and God bless you!" cried he boldly, while I, turning my head, smiled to show I understood."Courage, George Botskay!" exclaimed a second voice. "The Austrians cannot kill your name, which will never die in Magyar-land."The man who spoke was standing next Mecsey, and I stared in amazement at beholding Dobozy.What was he doing there?If he were free, why not "John the Joyous?"So great a longing suddenly seized me to look on the dear fellow's face once more that I was unnerved, and only by a great effort kept myself from stumbling.Several other voices now cried, "God bless you, captain!" and I became aware that many men of my old regiment were grouped around Mecsey Sándor and Dobozy.I smiled a last farewell at them, but my aching eyes sought in vain for the noble figure of their colonel, and I concluded he was still a prisoner, or dead.Right round the ghastly structure a cordon of troops had been drawn, the space inside being occupied by a regiment of hussars.Even before meeting him I knew instinctively that Von Theyer was at their head, and the knowledge gave me added courage.He, at least, should never guess the tortures that I suffered.I walked firmly, with head erect, gazing boldly at my bitter enemy. He was on horseback, almost at the foot of the wooden steps which led to the scaffold, so that but for my guard I should have brushed against him in passing.His eyes, full of cruel hatred, met mine; but I trust they detected no sign of fear or blenching in my face.I mounted the steps, and as the soldiers placed me beneath the gallows a low, deep hum of pity rose from the crowd.The two officers from Bern's army were stationed some distance away on my right, and the governor, stepping to the front, began reading in a loud, clear voice some official document.It was a wonderful and impressive scene. The huge platform, with half a dozen high officials and two firing parties; the bronzed hussars, in brilliant uniforms, sitting their horses like statues; the ring of infantry, with the sun shining on their bright, steel bayonets the hushed crowd beyond, angry but impotent--furnished a spectacle that those who beheld never forgot while life lasted.The governor continued to read, and as he read a little bird with cherry-coloured throat and gay plumage came and perched itself near me on the frowning gallows.I was watching the tiny fellow with interest when a cry from the crowd, as of pain wrung from some animal, greeted the end of the governor's speech.The fatal moment was fast approaching, and I cast a farewell glance at Mecsey and his companions.The faithful fellow was in a state of terrible excitement, those around him being hardly less moved.Their faces alternated with hope and fear, grief, rage, despair, anxiety--in short, all the passions that the human face is capable of expressing. But, above all, it seemed to me they were waiting.Waiting for what?The idea which suddenly flashed across my mind made me tremble. Was it possible that these great-hearted men were mad enough to dream of a rescue?From my heart I hoped and prayed this was not the secret of their excitement.The thing was utterly impossible, and could only lead to the shedding of much innocent blood.Life had never seemed so glorious a possession as it did just then, but I would have forfeited it a hundred times rather than expose those thousands of men and women to the horrors of an Austrian butchery.Yet I was powerless to avert the evil, if, indeed, the trusty Mecsey had planned such a mad project.However, in a few brief moments now everything would be decided. My fellow-victims were to suffer first, and, kneeling in the positions appointed, they submitted to the bandaging of their eyes.I kept my head steadfastly turned from the cruel scene, as did the vast majority of the crowd.The firing parties advanced."Long live Hungary!" cried the younger soldier."Long live Poland!" cried the veteran, the voices of both being equally cool and collected."Fire!"The report of the volleys rang out, and a groan burst from the spectators.From the victims themselves there came not a sound.When next I looked round, the two bodies had been removed, and the governor was beginning to read from a second paper. It was a recital of my various crimes, and the sentence pronounced by the military tribunal.Slowly, expressively, giving each word with due distinctness, he read on, while I watched Mecsey's face, and prayed that the speech might come to an end before mischief was done.Yet, all unknown to me, the question of my life or death hung on the length of time occupied by that pompous old man.It could not be said I had abandoned hope, since, after the finding of the court-martial, I had never entertained any; all my suspense now was centered in the action of Mecsey and his companions.That their presence, and the selection of their particular position, was due to some settled purpose, there could be little doubt; and I felt equally sure that every man of that desperate party was in possession of hidden weapons.What was the signal they waited for?Suddenly, in the midst of the reading, there came a cry from the outskirts of the crowd--a cry caught up and repeated by thousands of voices, till the volume of sound rolled over the whole market-place.Mecsey and his confederates threw their caps high into the air, and yelled like madmen; the governor, deadly pale, stopped his reading and called to Von Theyer, who hastily mounted the platform; the infantry, waiting for orders, gripped their rifles with grim resolution; the hussars bared their swords and prepared for the word to charge.Yet the people made no attempt at a rescue; only in one place they formed a lane along which a horseman galloped frantically amidst such a wild outburst of cheering as Arad never knew before or since.During those few moments I must have suffered more agony than falls to the lot of many men in a lifetime.Of what was happening I had not the slightest idea, only I saw Von Theyer return to his men, and heard his short, quick words of command.At the same time the infantry faced about and presented a steel-girt barrier to the crowd.Yet the cheering did not cease--it grew louder; and now we on the platform could hear such words as "The Kaiser! Long live Francis Josef! Long live the Kaiser!"At the first sign of danger the soldiers on the platform surrounded me in a body, and the executioner was already arranging the noose when the horseman reached the line of infantry.What he said I knew not, but those sturdy warriors opened their ranks. He dashed through, and when in the open space Von Theyer would have turned him back, he struck him from the saddle, at the same time shouting out something in a loud tone.Springing to the ground, he left his horse with heaving flanks and spume-flaked nostrils, and scrambled up the wooden steps, crying aloud and waving a large white envelope.As one in a dream I watched him approach the governor and hand him the mysterious missive.Then he turned to me, and I forgot all about death, for the strange messenger was "John the Joyous."Never had the name fitted him more admirably. His cheeks were flushed with happiness; his eyes bright and sparkling; every feature had part in the joyous smile that overspread his handsome face.I could not think or reason--in fact there was no necessity, for John Rakoczy had come.The crowd shouted lustily until the governor, waving the white envelope, went to the edge of the platform.Then the cheering ceased and all was silent save for the voice of the governor as he read from a sheet of paper the free pardon of His Most Gracious Majesty, Kaiser Francis Josef, to George Botskay, sometime captain on the staff of General Arthur Görgei.He added some further words, to which the people responded with a wild cheer, and then began to disperse, while I stood dumfounded with the rope yet round my neck.The market-place emptied slowly; the infantry formed up in companies and marched to the fortress; the hussars, headed by Von Theyer looking black and scowling, trotted off; only the governor's personal escort remained.Then the old man harshly told me I was at liberty; and he, too, went away, leaving me with my chivalrous friend.This startling swing back from the very brink of the grave left me weak and dazed. I had hardly sufficient strength to thank the man who had saved my life."Wait a bit," said he smilingly. "There will be plenty of time for all that. We have many things to tell each other, but you must get back a little strength first. Come, lean on me. Mecsey has a carriage ready, and I am going to send you to Gyula.""Aren't you coming?""In a day or two. There is a little business in Arad to be settled first."So greatly had my nerves been weakened by the shock that I did not guess what the business was, and permitted him to lead me away without protest.At one of the inns Mecsey waited with a carriage, and many of the old Honveds stood in front of the house.Dobozy was there too, and the true-hearted kindness of my former companions brought tears of gratitude to my eyes."The Joyous" wrapped me up comfortably, and giving Mecsey, who was to ride inside, many injunctions, shook my hand in a parting grasp."Rouse yourself!" cried he. "Dobozy and I are coming in a few days, and we don't want to be entertained by an invalid."Dobozy added some lively badinage to cheer my spirits, the two waved their hands in farewell, the coachman cracked his whip, and we were off to the lonely homestead I had not visited during the last two years.
CHAPTER XXV.
IMPRISONED AT ARAD.
Von Theyer met me at the inn door, but he was busy giving orders that a detachment of troops should mount and scour the district.
Candles and flaring torches burned in the kitchen, and by their light I saw three men, all badly wounded, lying side by side.
At the farther end of the apartment lay Ober, and the hussars pulled and hustled me towards his body.
Poor fellow! He was quite dead, and close by I saw the keen blade, now stained with blood, that had slain him.
His comrades uttered loud threats of vengeance, and one man, pressing the muzzle of his pistol against my forehead, swore he would shoot me.
Another pulled him back, saying he might safely leave me to the colonel, who would not fail to avenge the dead hussar.
For myself, I was in a state of utter bewilderment, and looked at the brawny, rough-voiced men like a dazed child.
The long-continued excitement and the dramatic close of the incident had for the time clouded my brain, and, beyond the fact that Ober was dead, I grasped nothing clearly.
Then above the babel of sounds I heard a voice ordering in tones of command that my arms should be bound afresh.
This the men did very willingly, and in their anger they tied the knots so tightly that the pain almost caused me to faint.
Then two of them led me into the next room, where Von Theyer sat, with a pair of pistols on the table beside him.
"That will do," he exclaimed harshly. "Leave him there. Now go outside and wait. Don't be frightened if you hear the report of a pistol. I'm in no danger."
The men saluted and withdrew, leaving me facing their colonel.
At the sight of that face with the hideous scar my senses and my manhood returned to me. I remembered that I came of a race of Magyar nobles, and resolved to show myself worthy to bear their name.
"George Botskay, once a so-called captain in the rebel army, but now an associate of thieves and murderers, I demand to know the name of the villain by whose aid you have stabbed an unoffending man to death."
At this implied accusation of a cowardly crime my face flushed, and I cried hotly,--
"I throw the lie in your teeth, Colonel von Theyer. My hands are free from innocent blood, as you well know, though it may suit your purpose to declare otherwise."
Von Theyer laughed, and his lips assumed a cruel curve that was not pleasant to see.
"You are right," said he coldly. "It does suit my purpose. Can you guess why I did not hang you by the side of your friend Count Beula? I had another plan, and this night's work has made its success certain. Look at me, George Botskay, and see for what I have to thank you. In Vienna you worked me harm enough, but this, this--" And he half choked as he laid his hand on his scarred cheek.
"I am truly sorry for your disfigurement," I replied, "but it happened in the heat of battle and with no malice on my part."
"Perhaps when I have made you suffer I shall be sorry too," he said flippantly. "We shall see. I could hang you now--your life is forfeit to the laws; but that is not my wish. I am going to brand your name, so that it shall be carried to Vienna as the name of a common thief and assassin. I will make the Austrian government your judge and your executioner. When you have been publicly disgraced and hung, Fräulein Theresa may not be quite so proud of her Hungarian friend."
"You are a coward and a scoundrel," I cried contemptuously, "and may do as you please;" but for all my brave words the barbed shaft had struck home.
Von Theyer saw this, and was beginning to laugh, when he caught sight of the locket, which showed through my disordered apparel.
Apparently he recognized it, as he sprang forward to remove it; and then he saw the baron's ring.
"Oh, oh!" he cried; "this is famous! So you have been robbing the dead! I think this will add an extra spice to my revenge."
Dragging the ring from my finger, he called his men to take me away and guard me closely.
By this time day was breaking; and the soldiers, unable to sleep, got ready their morning meal.
As no one offered me any, I went without, which was not an agreeable method of beginning the day.
However, they gave me plenty of rope instead, and I was firmly fastened on Ober's horse, while two men with levelled pistols rode one on either side of me.
The detachment sent out during the night met us a few miles from the village, and the officer reported they had been unable to find any trace of the mysterious stranger.
Talking amongst themselves, the hussars declared that the daring intruder must have been Batori Gabor, and I held that opinion too.
Rakoczy was a prisoner, and Mecsey Sándor far away, so that unless one of the disbanded soldiers had performed the deed, the robber-captain was the only person left to suspect.
However, the scheme had failed, and I was more strongly guarded than before.
Von Theyer gave the strictest orders to the two troopers, one of whom was Franz, the comrade of the dead Ober.
This man eyed me most maliciously, and I felt sure he would be a splendid tool in furthering the colonel's scheme.
From boyhood, riding had been one of my chief pleasures; but this new style, tied hand and foot and bound to a horse's back, was a novelty I did not appreciate.
Towards noon we halted beside a pleasant stream, a tributary of the Maros; and having attended to the animals, the men sat down to their frugal dinner.
Now, since there is no satisfaction to be obtained in hanging a dead man, Von Theyer was compelled to give me some food; and this, with the temporary freedom of my arms, was a great relief.
Having finished their black bread and cheese, most of the men began to smoke. Some rolled out their greatcoats and went to sleep, while others played strange games with packs of well-thumbed cards.
The halt lasted perhaps two hours, when the bugles sounded, and we were again in motion.
By this time Von Theyer had evidently abandoned all hope of catching the robbers, as we rode at a sober pace, and finished the day's march long before sunset.
Our new quarters were in a fair-sized village, and I was rather amused by the precautions taken to ensure my safety.
Six men were placed in the same room, and a sentry was posted outside the door.
If any accident occurred during the night, the colonel promised to hang them all without exception; and as Von Theyer was a man of his word, the troopers regarded his threat with respect.
Poor fellows! In spite of my own risky position I pitied them; they were like men suffering from a bad form of nightmare.
After a meagre supper, quickly dispatched, my arms were rebound, and I was bundled into a corner, the sergeant in charge of the guard warning me not to move, which was rather unnecessary advice.
Two of the hussars stood over me with drawn swords, the others sat on a bench waiting for their spell of duty. I don't think any of them went to sleep.
About midnight Von Theyer himself paid us a visit; and the guard, springing to their feet, presented arms.
He glanced round the room with an approving smile, and said,--
"Well, sergeant, I think your prisoner will have small chance of stabbing any one to-night."
The sergeant smiled at the compliment to his vigilance, and the colonel came over to my corner.
Not caring to bandy words with him before his men, I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep, and after a minute or two he went away.
The night passed wearily enough, for although I managed to sleep, my rest was broken by feverish dreams, and I gladly welcomed the coming of another day.
For some reason unknown to me we did not set out till ten o'clock; and when, after an uneventful journey, we rode into the town of Arad, the autumn afternoon was fast blending into evening.
The inhabitants of the old market-town swarmed out to see the Austrian cavalry, and many glances of compassion and pity were directed on the bound and helpless prisoner in their midst.
A few expressed their sympathy audibly, but for the most part men, women, and children stood mournful indeed but silent.
Alas! the glory of the Magyar had departed. Henceforth my unhappy countrymen must bend beneath the whips of their Austrian masters.
Once we were startled by a mocking laugh from some one in the crowd, and Von Theyer frowned angrily as a clear voice sang out, "Let the colonel look to his guards. 'Twill be his turn next."
The Austrian dashed towards the spot whence the words came, but he met only the innocent faces of terrified people, and for very shame's sake he dared not punish them.
The voice roused me, for it was that of the man who had slain Ober in the kitchen of the inn; and now I knew the daring intruder had been Batori, the robber-captain.
Others also guessed the secret, and Franz riding up to the colonel whispered something in his ear.
Immediately the troopers were ordered to disperse, and in small parties to search every nook and cranny in both the old and the new town.
Meanwhile Von Theyer, with half a dozen men who acted as my escort, rode to the bridge which spans one arm of the Maros, and connects Arad with the spit of land on which the fortress is built.
The last time I had passed that way the red, white, and green stripes waved proudly from the ramparts. Now the black and yellow flag hung from the walls--an outward and visible sign of our defeat.
A group of citizens stood on the river-bank to watch us go past, and my heart gave a great leap as I recognized amongst them the faithful Mecsey Sándor.
He had discarded his uniform, and was dressed in civilian costume, though he could not altogether disguise his military carriage.
His eyes looked straight into mine, and by a kind of dumb show he made me understand that Rakoczy was confined in Gros-Wardein.
Then our little cavalcade swept by, the gates were thrown open, and we passed behind the frowning walls of the fortress.
Here Von Theyer left us, and I soon received ample proof of how effectually he had blackened my character to the governor.
Instead of being treated as an honourable though beaten enemy, I was roughly thrust into a small, dark cell, bare of furniture, and left to my own reflections till the morning, when a jailer, attended by several soldiers, brought me some food and untied my bonds.
For this last attention I was extremely grateful, and ate my lump of dry black bread in an almost cheerful spirit.
But as day followed day without change, the gloom and monotony oppressed me like a heavy weight. I grew moody and depressed, and in spite of a hard struggle was gradually driven to look upon the dark side of things.
No news of any kind came to me in my narrow prison. The jailer refused to answer a question, saying the only matter I need trouble about was the date of my execution.
At first I dreamed of making my escape, but this idea was soon abandoned, as I saw how hopeless any attempt must be.
The cell door was of iron, the walls were strong and massive, and I had not so much as a nail to work with.
Almost my sole dependence lay in Mecsey Sándor, yet what he could do I could not imagine.
However, I tried hard not to despair, and resolved, if need be, to meet my fate bravely.
In this manner more than a fortnight passed, when one morning, about two hours after my breakfast of black bread and water, I was surprised to hear the tramp of marching feet, which stopped opposite my cell.
The key turned in the massive lock, the door opened, and I was harshly ordered to step outside.
A number of soldiers with bayonets fixed waited. I was placed in the midst of them and hurried away.
These men belonged to an infantry regiment, and were strangers to me, but it was plain they had formed a very unfavourable opinion of my character.
Crossing the square, they halted in front of a low door, and the officer in command of the party signed to me to follow him.
An antechamber was filled with soldiers, fully armed and standing at attention, while their faces were about as human as chiselled stone.
Passing through, we entered a second apartment, where a dozen officers were seated round a baize-covered table littered with writing material.
Recognizing that these men held my life in their hands, I looked at them eagerly.
The president's chair was occupied by a tall old man with slightly-stooping shoulders, scanty white hair, and long, drooping, white moustaches.
His face was bronzed, and his breast covered with numerous ribbons and medals, but his blue eyes were rather dreamy, and I thought he had much ado to keep himself awake.
The officers who flanked him on either side of the table were of various ages, and belonged to different branches of the service, but they all sat as immovable as statues.
The silence was so weird and oppressive that I welcomed the sound of the president's voice when he began the proceedings by asking my name.
"George Botskay," I proudly answered.
"Captain in the rebel army?" he went on, reading from a slip of paper.
"Captain on the staff of General Görgei, commander-in-chief of the Hungarian national forces," I replied.
One of the stone griffins started into life at this, but the president petrified him again by a wave of the hand.
"Why did you not surrender with your leader?"
"Because I was absent on special duty."
"It is stated here," said he, tapping the paper, "that you were at Vilagos on the thirteenth of August."
"I was, but not with the army."
The other stone men showed signs of life now, and the old warrior continued his examination.
"Was it not your duty, as a soldier of honour, to obey your chief's orders, and to give yourself up to the proper authorities?"
"That view of the question did not strike me," I answered, and quite honestly too. "I was not with the army, and therefore did not consider myself included in the surrender."
"You preferred instead to join the band of a notorious robber?"
"That is false," I cried--"utterly false!"
The president, though he did not look like a merciful man, was exceedingly polite.
"I am afraid," he said, "that the facts are against you. Colonel von Theyer, one of our best officers--"
"A rebel turncoat," I interrupted angrily.
"I do not think, Herr Botskay, that abuse of a trusted officer will do your case any good. His report expressly states that you were discovered with this band of robbers. Do you deny the truth of the charge?"
"I cannot; but my being there was the result of blind chance."
The griffins actually smiled, which convinced me I was getting deeper into the mire, and that feeling was not lessened when the president said softly, "An unlucky chance for you, Herr Botskay, I fear."
"It is the truth for all that," I said stoutly.
"Did Count Beula meet the robbers by accident also?"
"I cannot say. I know nothing of him."
"Here again my information differs from your statement. The count was well known as an abettor of the massacres in Vienna, and it is laid down here that you were in personal communication with him at the beginning of the insurrection. Is that so?"
The ground seemed to be slipping from under me.
"Count Beula was never a friend of mine," I said.
"One does not always make a friend of an accomplice," replied the president suavely. "But here is another question. Is it true that on any single occasion you attended a meeting of the Hungarian Committee?"
"That is easily explained," I began. "When--"
"Pardon me, general," interrupted one of my judges, "but I should like the prisoner to give a direct answer--yes or no--to the question. It is a simple matter. Did he or did he not, in October of 1848, attend a meeting of the Hungarian Committee?"
"If you will not allow me to explain, I shall refuse to answer at all," I exclaimed.
"Then," said the man who had spoken, "we shall be forced to draw our own conclusions;" and he sat down very red, but triumphant, amid a hum of approval.
"There is one other matter on which you might like to say a word," remarked the president blandly, "and that is the doing to death of the trooper Ober."
To this I replied that the unfortunate man had not met his death at my hands, nor was I in any way responsible for the striking of the fatal blow.
Here again I was confronted by further proof of how finely my enemy had woven the meshes of my net.
According to the sworn evidence of the man Franz, he had seen the knife in my hand, and he had also seen me stab the hapless trooper to the heart.
On the evidence supplied to them my judges could so easily find me guilty of almost any crime that I took little interest in the rest of the proceedings.
Von Theyer had made such a skilful blend of fact and fiction that his story had all the appearance of unadulterated truth. On one point alone he had not fulfilled his threat; there was no allusion to the ring and miniature of the dead baron.
I believe the president did mention vaguely some other charges, but as I could not be shot or hung twice over, these did not much matter.
When he had finished his speech I bowed courteously, saluted the officers in military fashion, and followed the leader of the escort from the room.
Once again I was placed in the midst of the soldiers, and marched back to my cell, where they left me without a word. I sat down on the wooden bench which was my sole article of furniture, and tried to think over my position.
It seemed gloomy and hopeless enough, and turn which way I would, the only outlook was towards the scaffold.
As far as I could understand, the Austrians claimed the right to hang me on either of two grounds--the refusal to surrender with Görgei at Vilagos, and the fact that I was caught in the company of a notorious band of robbers.
The other points, such as my acquaintance with Count Beula and the slaying of the hussar, were mere garnishings, added by the wily Von Theyer to prejudice my judges, and prevent them tempering justice by mercy.
In this there could be no doubt he succeeded perfectly, and I felt certain that whatever I might put forward in my defence would prove of no avail.
Indeed it was likely enough my sentence had already been pronounced, and that at any moment I might be led out to execution. Every sound which reached my ears startled me, and a dozen times I stood up trying to calm the beatings of my heart.
But the day passed, and at night the jailer brought my black bread and water, and went away again as usual without saying a word. I ate and drank feverishly, and then lay down on the narrow bench wondering what would happen before the next setting of the sun. Very slowly and wearily the dark hours crawled along, until, utterly worn out, I fell asleep, to be awakened, it seemed almost immediately, by the rattling of keys and the creaking of the iron door. In an instant I sprang to my feet, and waited with taut-strung nerves for the final ordeal.
My visitor was the jailer, and as he placed my breakfast on the ground, I burst into a peal of hysterical laughter.
CHAPTER XXVI.
LED OUT TO EXECUTION.
I pass rapidly over the period of suspense which succeeded my examination.
Even now it is painful to look back on the time when I fully expected every hour of each ensuing day to be my last.
Yet night and morning came and went, and I still remained in the dark cell, unable to learn anything concerning my fate.
The only relief to the monotony was the coming of the jailer, and he was such a surly fellow that his visits gave me more pain than pleasure.
A whole week passed in this way, and then I was again taken from the cell and marched to another part of the fortress.
At every step I gazed round anxiously, expecting to see the preparations for my execution.
Young, strong, and healthy, I had no wish to die; yet this horrible uncertainty, this alternation of hope and fear, was actually worse than death.
The faces of the soldiers were stolid and impassive--nothing could be learned from them; while the officer did not even look at me. We crossed the courtyard, and my pulses throbbed with fresh hope as I was led into a spacious room, where a stout, florid man in military uniform sat at a table writing.
Only two of the escort had entered with the officer, and these stood with fixed bayonets.
The florid man left his chair, and pointing to another, said coldly,--
"Sit down there, Herr Botskay. By order of the general commanding, you are to answer these questions in writing, an hour being given you for the task."
To all appearance I was quite cool, but the blood surged through my veins like a rushing torrent, and I could not see the questions on the paper for dizziness.
Apathy and despair vanished. The latent spark of hope kindled into a fresh flame. Here was another chance of life and freedom. Alas! my new and beautiful castle was built on very frail foundations.
The questions numbered nearly a dozen, and were framed in such a manner that by answering them without adding the fullest explanations I should only make my case worse.
A quarter of an hour passed, and I still sat staring stupidly at my blank sheet of paper.
The soldiers stood grimly at attention, the officer leaned on his sword, the stout man sat writing stolidly; no sound but the monotonous ticking of the clock and the beating of my own heart broke the silence.
At last, seizing the pen, I began to write--not in answer to the questions, but a short account of what had passed between Von Theyer and myself, and an explanation of how I came to be in the company of Batori Gabor.
It was rather a lame performance, its chief merit being to afford a reason for Von Theyer's persecution; and when the official came to witness my signature, I felt it would do me but little good.
Another week passed--a week of heart-wearing suspense--before I was again called to attend the court.
A single glance at the faces of my judges extinguished the tiny spark of hope which struggled to keep alive in my breast.
The president spoke in impressive tones, every word sounding distinctly in the quiet room.
It was a long speech, but the whole of it might easily have been compressed into a dozen sentences.
On the first two counts--refusing to surrender at Vilagos, and joining a band of notorious outlaws--I was unanimously found guilty, and sentenced to death.
After this, one would have thought the rest to be of little interest, but the president gravely continued his remarks.
The unlawful killing of Ober was also considered proved, and on the various other charges laid against me the court expressed no opinion.
"Therefore," concluded the president in a solemn voice, "it becomes my painful duty to tell you, George Botskay. that on the second morning from this you will be led out to execution in the market-place of this town, that your death may act as a warning to all those who vainly hope to oppose the imperial government."
My limbs trembled, the blood left my face, but, managing to control my voice, I said calmly, "As a soldier, general, you will know a soldier's feelings. I do not plead for mercy, but there is one favour I would like to beg."
"Speak on, Herr Botskay. It may be in our power to grant it."
"Then I ask that you will at least permit me to die the death of a soldier, and not that of a criminal."
"That," responded the old man, "is impossible, since you ceased to be a soldier when you joined Batori Gabor. As a brigand you were captured, as a brigand you must suffer;" and he waved his hand, directing that I should be removed.
Back again in the lonely cell, my first feeling was one of relief that the period of suspense had ended.
I could no longer be tortured by swift alternations of hopes and fears. The worst had come, and with it a feeling of apathetic stupor.
But the next day, as I sat measuring off the hours by guess-work, a revulsion of feeling set in.
Life was sweet, and all the throbbing vigour of my youth protested hotly against this violent and disgraceful death.
Had it come when I charged with Görgei at the head of our cavalry, or when beside my noble-hearted brother I scaled the ramparts of Buda, the glow of patriotism, of devotion to my outraged country, would have removed half its terrors; but now, in this guise!
Then my thoughts turned to the faithful Mecsey; to John Rakoczy, my true and gallant friend, whom I should never again see; finally passing to the Austrian maiden, whose fair face had never faded from my memory.
Would she believe the untruths which Von Theyer would but too surely circulate?
I shuddered to think what terrible stories his fertile brain might invent when I was no longer able to give them the lie.
Yet, through it all, I never quite lost hope that the beautiful girl would keep her faith in my truth and honour; and this feeling sufficed to raise me from the slough of misery into which I was sinking.
Night came at length, and the surly jailer brought my last supper, which I forced myself to eat.
Then, after a solemn hour spent in prayer, I lay down on my hard bench and slept peacefully as a child.
I had no means of telling the time, but the jailer apparently wakened me earlier than usual, and I was led into a room where, instead of the usual bread and water, a proper breakfast was laid. The apartment was filled with soldiers; and when I had finished, two of them, stepping forward, pinioned my arms tightly behind my back.
It was, as near as I could judge, about ten o'clock when the governor entered, and, after a brief talk with one of the officers, ordered the procession to be formed.
The air was keen, though the sun shone brightly overhead, as we proceeded slowly to the courtyard, where the soldiers halted.
Two other detachments now joined us, and in the midst of each a prisoner walked bareheaded.
They were both officers in Bern's army of Transylvania, so I did not know them, but we exchanged glances of pity and goodwill.
One was an old man with scarred face and white, flowing beard, a veteran Pole, who had spent his life in warfare against the enemies of his country.
His fellow-victim was quite young, hardly older than myself; but he bore himself as proudly as his comrade, gazing at the Austrians without a tremor.
After a delay of ten minutes the arrangements were completed, and the booming of a big gun announced to the townsfolk that the mournful procession was about to issue from the gates of the fortress.
The soldiers closed up their ranks, the order was issued, and we set out, my escort being the last of the three.
I tried hard to march with steady step and unfaltering countenance, but it was hard work.
The fresh morning air, the bright October sun, the merry flight of birds overhead, even the gaudy uniforms of the soldiers, spoke of life, and I was going to lose it.
A lump rose in my throat as we passed through the gateway, but I remembered I was a Magyar, and choked it down.
The pain and misery would soon be at an end, and the white-coats must not think me a coward.
At minute intervals a gun was fired from the ramparts, and the church-bells of the town tolled mournfully in response.
Crossing the one bridge which had not been destroyed during the war, we entered the town proper.
I was astounded at the spectacle.
Two lines of soldiers with loaded rifles guarded the route to the market-place, and kept back the crowds of people who stood on tiptoe and craned their necks in eager anxiety to catch a last view of those about to die.
Not the populace of the town alone had assembled, but the inhabitants of all the surrounding districts had come in thousands to show respect to the victims of Austrian cruelty.
The women sobbed as we went by, and looked at us with a yearning pity that almost broke down my composure. The eyes of the men flashed with fierce hate, and I thought it well that these brave Magyars had no weapons.
Little children were held up in the arms of their fathers to see us, and were that day taught a lesson which they would not forget in many years.
The nearer we approached our destination the denser the crowd became, while the market-place itself was so packed that several persons died of suffocation.
There, during the preceding night, an enormous wooden stage had been erected, and in the centre was a tall gallows.
At the sight of this, I confess freely, my heart sank, and I feared that my courage would desert me.
Now just at this moment I saw the face of the gallant Mecsey Sándor, which acted on my nerves like a strong tonic.
The faithful fellow stood in the very foremost of the crowd, immediately behind the soldiers, and opposite the steps by which the wide platform was reached.
He was very mournful, yet the look in his eyes expressed something more than sorrow.
"Courage, my sweet master, and God bless you!" cried he boldly, while I, turning my head, smiled to show I understood.
"Courage, George Botskay!" exclaimed a second voice. "The Austrians cannot kill your name, which will never die in Magyar-land."
The man who spoke was standing next Mecsey, and I stared in amazement at beholding Dobozy.
What was he doing there?
If he were free, why not "John the Joyous?"
So great a longing suddenly seized me to look on the dear fellow's face once more that I was unnerved, and only by a great effort kept myself from stumbling.
Several other voices now cried, "God bless you, captain!" and I became aware that many men of my old regiment were grouped around Mecsey Sándor and Dobozy.
I smiled a last farewell at them, but my aching eyes sought in vain for the noble figure of their colonel, and I concluded he was still a prisoner, or dead.
Right round the ghastly structure a cordon of troops had been drawn, the space inside being occupied by a regiment of hussars.
Even before meeting him I knew instinctively that Von Theyer was at their head, and the knowledge gave me added courage.
He, at least, should never guess the tortures that I suffered.
I walked firmly, with head erect, gazing boldly at my bitter enemy. He was on horseback, almost at the foot of the wooden steps which led to the scaffold, so that but for my guard I should have brushed against him in passing.
His eyes, full of cruel hatred, met mine; but I trust they detected no sign of fear or blenching in my face.
I mounted the steps, and as the soldiers placed me beneath the gallows a low, deep hum of pity rose from the crowd.
The two officers from Bern's army were stationed some distance away on my right, and the governor, stepping to the front, began reading in a loud, clear voice some official document.
It was a wonderful and impressive scene. The huge platform, with half a dozen high officials and two firing parties; the bronzed hussars, in brilliant uniforms, sitting their horses like statues; the ring of infantry, with the sun shining on their bright, steel bayonets the hushed crowd beyond, angry but impotent--furnished a spectacle that those who beheld never forgot while life lasted.
The governor continued to read, and as he read a little bird with cherry-coloured throat and gay plumage came and perched itself near me on the frowning gallows.
I was watching the tiny fellow with interest when a cry from the crowd, as of pain wrung from some animal, greeted the end of the governor's speech.
The fatal moment was fast approaching, and I cast a farewell glance at Mecsey and his companions.
The faithful fellow was in a state of terrible excitement, those around him being hardly less moved.
Their faces alternated with hope and fear, grief, rage, despair, anxiety--in short, all the passions that the human face is capable of expressing. But, above all, it seemed to me they were waiting.
Waiting for what?
The idea which suddenly flashed across my mind made me tremble. Was it possible that these great-hearted men were mad enough to dream of a rescue?
From my heart I hoped and prayed this was not the secret of their excitement.
The thing was utterly impossible, and could only lead to the shedding of much innocent blood.
Life had never seemed so glorious a possession as it did just then, but I would have forfeited it a hundred times rather than expose those thousands of men and women to the horrors of an Austrian butchery.
Yet I was powerless to avert the evil, if, indeed, the trusty Mecsey had planned such a mad project.
However, in a few brief moments now everything would be decided. My fellow-victims were to suffer first, and, kneeling in the positions appointed, they submitted to the bandaging of their eyes.
I kept my head steadfastly turned from the cruel scene, as did the vast majority of the crowd.
The firing parties advanced.
"Long live Hungary!" cried the younger soldier.
"Long live Poland!" cried the veteran, the voices of both being equally cool and collected.
"Fire!"
The report of the volleys rang out, and a groan burst from the spectators.
From the victims themselves there came not a sound.
When next I looked round, the two bodies had been removed, and the governor was beginning to read from a second paper. It was a recital of my various crimes, and the sentence pronounced by the military tribunal.
Slowly, expressively, giving each word with due distinctness, he read on, while I watched Mecsey's face, and prayed that the speech might come to an end before mischief was done.
Yet, all unknown to me, the question of my life or death hung on the length of time occupied by that pompous old man.
It could not be said I had abandoned hope, since, after the finding of the court-martial, I had never entertained any; all my suspense now was centered in the action of Mecsey and his companions.
That their presence, and the selection of their particular position, was due to some settled purpose, there could be little doubt; and I felt equally sure that every man of that desperate party was in possession of hidden weapons.
What was the signal they waited for?
Suddenly, in the midst of the reading, there came a cry from the outskirts of the crowd--a cry caught up and repeated by thousands of voices, till the volume of sound rolled over the whole market-place.
Mecsey and his confederates threw their caps high into the air, and yelled like madmen; the governor, deadly pale, stopped his reading and called to Von Theyer, who hastily mounted the platform; the infantry, waiting for orders, gripped their rifles with grim resolution; the hussars bared their swords and prepared for the word to charge.
Yet the people made no attempt at a rescue; only in one place they formed a lane along which a horseman galloped frantically amidst such a wild outburst of cheering as Arad never knew before or since.
During those few moments I must have suffered more agony than falls to the lot of many men in a lifetime.
Of what was happening I had not the slightest idea, only I saw Von Theyer return to his men, and heard his short, quick words of command.
At the same time the infantry faced about and presented a steel-girt barrier to the crowd.
Yet the cheering did not cease--it grew louder; and now we on the platform could hear such words as "The Kaiser! Long live Francis Josef! Long live the Kaiser!"
At the first sign of danger the soldiers on the platform surrounded me in a body, and the executioner was already arranging the noose when the horseman reached the line of infantry.
What he said I knew not, but those sturdy warriors opened their ranks. He dashed through, and when in the open space Von Theyer would have turned him back, he struck him from the saddle, at the same time shouting out something in a loud tone.
Springing to the ground, he left his horse with heaving flanks and spume-flaked nostrils, and scrambled up the wooden steps, crying aloud and waving a large white envelope.
As one in a dream I watched him approach the governor and hand him the mysterious missive.
Then he turned to me, and I forgot all about death, for the strange messenger was "John the Joyous."
Never had the name fitted him more admirably. His cheeks were flushed with happiness; his eyes bright and sparkling; every feature had part in the joyous smile that overspread his handsome face.
I could not think or reason--in fact there was no necessity, for John Rakoczy had come.
The crowd shouted lustily until the governor, waving the white envelope, went to the edge of the platform.
Then the cheering ceased and all was silent save for the voice of the governor as he read from a sheet of paper the free pardon of His Most Gracious Majesty, Kaiser Francis Josef, to George Botskay, sometime captain on the staff of General Arthur Görgei.
He added some further words, to which the people responded with a wild cheer, and then began to disperse, while I stood dumfounded with the rope yet round my neck.
The market-place emptied slowly; the infantry formed up in companies and marched to the fortress; the hussars, headed by Von Theyer looking black and scowling, trotted off; only the governor's personal escort remained.
Then the old man harshly told me I was at liberty; and he, too, went away, leaving me with my chivalrous friend.
This startling swing back from the very brink of the grave left me weak and dazed. I had hardly sufficient strength to thank the man who had saved my life.
"Wait a bit," said he smilingly. "There will be plenty of time for all that. We have many things to tell each other, but you must get back a little strength first. Come, lean on me. Mecsey has a carriage ready, and I am going to send you to Gyula."
"Aren't you coming?"
"In a day or two. There is a little business in Arad to be settled first."
So greatly had my nerves been weakened by the shock that I did not guess what the business was, and permitted him to lead me away without protest.
At one of the inns Mecsey waited with a carriage, and many of the old Honveds stood in front of the house.
Dobozy was there too, and the true-hearted kindness of my former companions brought tears of gratitude to my eyes.
"The Joyous" wrapped me up comfortably, and giving Mecsey, who was to ride inside, many injunctions, shook my hand in a parting grasp.
"Rouse yourself!" cried he. "Dobozy and I are coming in a few days, and we don't want to be entertained by an invalid."
Dobozy added some lively badinage to cheer my spirits, the two waved their hands in farewell, the coachman cracked his whip, and we were off to the lonely homestead I had not visited during the last two years.