CHAPTER XVIII.
AUNT ORSOLYA'S CAVERN.
Three fires were burning in different parts of the cavern, and roundeach was encamped quite a little army of women and children.
Of the men, some were lying outstretched on wild-beast skins, otherswere pacing up and down the great vaulted hall, and yet others were busyskinning the game shot during the day. Quite respectable butchers theywere, these grandees, who had been used no long time ago to appearbefore the world with the most splendid of panther-skins slung elegantlyover their shoulders.
Some of the women were filling their wooden vessels at the springs whichtrickled out from under the wall of rock; and as they watched the watersparkling in the fire-light they chattered to one another in the mostanimated way, or told fairy tales and repeated poetry for the generalentertainment.
In her own quarters, in the centre of the cavern, close under the wall,Orsolya was seated in a chair of rough pine branches, beneath a canopyof mats, which protected her from the continual droppings of the rock.
Her face was covered with a perfect network of lines and wrinkles, buther dark eyes shone like live coals. Her beautiful silver hair wasnearly hidden beneath a kerchief which had seen better days, and herdress, a plain, old-fashioned national costume, was neat and clean inspite of its age. She had a large spinning-wheel before her, and on alow stool by her side, sat a young girl, also employed with a spindle.
It was evident that this latter, a pale, slim creature with black eyes,was no Magyar. Her features were of a foreign cast, her hands were smalland delicate, and the charm and grace of her every movement weresuggestive rather of nature than of courts.
But the beautiful face looked troubled, as if its owner were haunted bythe memory of some overwhelming calamity.
Evidently this young relation of hers was the light of the old lady'seyes, for her features lost their stern, rather masculine expression,and her whole face softened whenever she looked at her.
Some of the men interrupted their walk from time to time to loiter nearthe fires, or talk to the sportsmen as they came in, or drew near toOrsolya, as subjects approach a sovereign; and Orsolya talked composedlywith each one, too well accustomed to deference and homage even tonotice them.
"Dear child," said the old lady, as soon as they were left tothemselves again, "how many spindles does this make? I'll tell you what,if you spin enough we will put the yarn on a loom and weave it intoshirting."
The girl raised her beautiful eyes to the old lady's face, saying ingood Magyar, though with a somewhat peculiar accent, "I think Mr. Bokormight set up the loom now, dear mother; I have such a number ready."
"I only hope we shall be able to make it do, my child," said Orsolya,leaning towards the girl, and stroking the raven hair which floated overher shoulders. "Good man!" she went on, smiling, "not but that he can beas obstinate as anyone now and then! and he has made the shuttle thesize of a boat!"
The girl laughed a little as she answered, "We will help him, goodmother," and she drew the old lady's hand to her lips, and kissed it asif she could not let it go.
"Yes," she went on slowly, "necessity is a great teacher; it teaches oneall things, except how to forget!"
"Oh, my dear, and who would wish it to teach one that! There are somethings which we cannot, and ought not to forget, and it is best so, yes,best, even when the past has been a sad one."
She stroked and caressed the girl in silence for a few moments, and thenwent on, "But you know, dear child, that life on this sad earth is noteverything. God is good, oh, so good! Why did He create all that wesee? Only because He is good. He, the Almighty, what need had He of anycreated thing? It is true that life brings us much pain and anguish attimes, but then this is but the beginning of our real life. There isanother, beyond the blue sky, beyond the stars, which you can no morerealise now than a blind man can realise a view, or a deaf man beautifulmusic. We shall find there all that we have loved and lost here. Goddoes not bring people together and make them love and care for oneanother only that death may separate them at last."
"No, don't forget anything, dearest child," Orsolya went on, withinfinite love in her tone, as the girl laid her head in her old friend'slap. "Keep all whom you have loved, and honoured, and lost, warm in yourheart."
"They are always there, dear mother, always before me! I see their dear,dear faces every moment!--oh! why must I outlive them?"
"That you may make others happy, dear child; perhaps, even that you maybe a comfort and joy to me in my old age."
MAiria threw her arms round the old lady and embraced her warmly.
"Dear, dear mother! how good you are to me! Don't think me ungratefulfor what the good God has given me in place of those whom I have lost.Yes, I wish to live, and I will live, if God wills, to thank you foryour love, and to love you for a long time. But if you see me sadsometimes, don't forget, good mother, how much I have lost! and--I amafraid, I am afraid! I have only one left to lose besides you, dearmother, and if--if--I don't know how I could go on living then----"
Just then two or three men appeared in the passage leading up from themouth of the cave, and MAiria went back to her stool.
Night had fallen, the men had been engaged in making all safe as usualby barricading the entrance with large pieces of rock, but they hadsuddenly left their work and were hurrying up to the cavern.
"Someone is coming, MAiria! or--but no, we won't think any evil, God ishere with us!"
"Mistress Aunt!" said the first of the men, bowing low, "we have broughtyou a visitor, a great man, Canon Roger, who has but lately escaped fromthe Mongols, and there are three others, strangers, with him. Leonardhere found them all nearly exhausted and not knowing which way to turn."
"Well done, nephew! I'm glad you found them," said Orsolya, "theeing andthouing" him, as she did everyone belonging to her little community."Roger--Roger," she went on, "I seem to remember the name--why, ofcourse, Italian, isn't he? and lived with my nephew Stephen at onetime?"
"Bring them in! bring them in!" she cried eagerly; and in a few momentsFather Roger and his companions appeared before the "lady of thecastle."
"Glory be to Jesus!" said, or rather stammered, the Canon; and "For everand ever!" responded Orsolya, who had risen to receive him; and for amoment her voice failed her, so shocked was she at the change in thefine, vigorous-looking man whom she remembered.
Attenuated to the last degree, bent almost double, he looked as if hewere in the last stage of exhaustion. His clothes were one mass of ragsand tatters, which hung about him in ribbons; his face, sunken and thecolour of parchment, had lost its expression of energy and manliness,and wore for the moment a look of bewilderment, which was almostvacancy. He was the wreck of what he had once been.
His servant, the one whom he mentions in his "Lamentable Song," Orsolyatook to be quite an old man. Withered and worn like his master, he was,if possible, even more dilapidated, thanks to his encounter with thewolves.
"You have come a long way and suffered much, Father," said Orsolyagently, when she had welcomed Dora and Talabor, and regained hercomposure.
"Much lady, much--I--I----"
"Ah, well, never mind! so long as you are here at last, Father Roger,never mind! It is a long, long time since we met last! Do you remember?My husband was alive then, and we were staying in Pressburg with mynephew, Stephen Szirmay, and with the HA(C)dervAirys."
"I remember well, dear lady; ah! how little we any of us dreamt of thedays that were coming!"
He spoke falteringly, in a faint voice; and as he sat bowed together onthe low seat, Orsolya noticed that he trembled in every limb.
The rumour of his arrival had quickly spread, and the inhabitants of thecavern all came flocking round, eager to see and hear. In theirbright-coloured, though more or less worn garments, with the fire-lightplaying upon them, and a whole troop of eager children among them, theywere a most picturesque company. But Orsolya allowed no time forquestions.
"Come," said she, rising from her
chair, "that will do for the present!Father Roger is worn out! Will you ladies go and get St. Anna's houseready, and make up good beds; and you, kinsmen," she went on, turning tothe men, "will you see about clothes and clean linen? I am afraid wehave nothing but old rags, but at least they are not quite so worn asthose our friends are wearing, and they are a trifle cleaner! I shallput the good Canon especially in your charge, MAirton; you will lookafter him and see that he wants for nothing."
"Thank you, lady," stammered Roger, almost overwhelmed by the warmth ofhis reception. "Blessings be upon your honoured head, and upon all whodwell beneath this roof."
All present bowed their heads almost involuntarily, whereupon Rogersummoned all his remaining strength, and reaching forth his witheredhands, pronounced the benediction over them; after which the childrenmade a rush forward to seize and kiss his hands.
"No, I won't hear anything now, Father Roger," said the old lady after apause, for her new guests belonged to the family now, she considered,and were to be "thee'd and thou'd" and managed like the rest. "You mustnot say another word; you must eat and drink and get thoroughly rested,and then, to-morrow perhaps, or in a day or two, when you have saidprayers in the chapel (we have one!) and the day's work is done, we willall sit round the fire, and you shall tell us all you know and all youhave seen."
Aunt Orsolya's subjects were well drilled, and though they were burningwith eagerness and anxiety, those who had begun to besiege the otherwanderers with inquiries at once refrained.
Preceded by a couple of torch-bearers, Father Roger was led carefullyaway to one of the side caves, all of which had their names; Dora wastaken in charge by some of the ladies; Talabor and the Canon's servantwere equally well looked after, and that night they all once more atethe "home-made bread," which they had so long been without. That it wasmade with a considerable admixture of tree-bark mattered little, perhapsthey hardly noticed the fact. It was simply delicious!
And the beds! As Dora sank down on hers, it seemed to her that she hadnever known real comfort before.
At last the excitement of the evening had subsided; the Queen's subjectshad all reassembled about the fires, speculating much as to what thenew-comers would have to tell them; and presently Aunt Orsolya began hernightly rounds, visiting all in turn, and stopping to have a littlekindly chat with each group.