The Strange Story of Rab Ráby

  CHAPTER XX.

  When Mathias Raby recounted this story to his uncle, the old gentlemandeclared he had never read or heard any stranger. Then they had aconsultation as to what was to be done. It was evident that it was amatter for a lawsuit.

  The ancient laws against a breach of the marriage vow were verystringent; and even allowed a husband to put to death an unfaithfulwife. But Mathias Raby found no consolation in such statutes. He did notwant to lose the woman still so dear to him for all the grievous injuryshe had done him, and he was even ready to take her back again, and topardon her threefold treachery.

  "By the law," said his uncle, interrupting Raby's meditations, "a wifewho runs away from her husband shall be restored to him. Now if there besuch a thing as justice on this earth of ours, you shall get her back.But what are we to do with the seducer, Petray?"

  "We can accuse him on the ground of seduction." And the old gentlemanproceeded to quote to Raby a law dating from the year 1522 whichprovided for the decapitation of such misdemeanants. So it was plainthat Raby might obtain the condemnation of Petray, and succeed in havingFruzsinka restored to him. But the legal proceedings were verycomplicated, and it was difficult to determine to which court the caseshould be taken.

  At last they came to the conclusion it would be wise to carry it beforethe higher court, since it was a question of a capital crime, thoughmuch care would have to be exercised in quoting the law under which theyprosecuted, as the least difference in the wording might upset theircase.

  When the eventful day arrived for instituting the suit before the highercourt, Raby was punctually in his place. Petray was also present, butFruzsinka was only represented by counsel.

  Raby determined he would have no mercy on Petray. If the severeHungarian law prescribed that the man who seduced the wife of anothershould lose his head, it should be satisfied.

  Petray, the defendant, heard the impeachment out to the end, withoutonce turning pale. He followed with his defence.

  He began by quoting old formularies and attacking certain technicaldefects in the indictment, which, he maintained, should have beencarried to the spiritual consistory, as the tribunal for matrimonialdisputes. Also he maintained that the action of the plaintiff was notvalid, seeing that he demanded the restitution of his runaway wife, andthe punishment of the man who had given her an asylum, yet was himselfopen to the charge of bigamy, since he now had three wives alive.

  "What in the world do you mean?" cried Raby indignantly.

  "That you were already twice married before you took Fraulein Fruzsinkato wife."

  "I twice married!" exclaimed Raby. "What do you mean?"

  "That they are still alive," answered Petray with a perfectly seriousface. "They both are here," he added, "and I beg that they may beconfronted with Mr. Raby."

  "Well, I should like to see them."

  And thereupon through a side door they admitted two women into thecourt. One was a pretty young Rascian in her picturesque nationalcostume, the other was a coquettishly clad peasant from the Alfold, ofimposingly tall stature. They were each cited by name, though Raby hadnever heard either before.

  "So these are my wives, are they?" he cried, half amused, half angry.

  "They are indeed," answered Petray unabashed, "and pray do not attemptto deny it, for they are both ready to prove it."

  "Why, when have either of you ever seen me before?" demanded Rabysternly of the two women.

  The little Rascian was obviously ashamed of herself, for though thepaint on her cheeks effectually hid her blushes, she buried her face inher handkerchief to suppress her confusion. But her companion was notso easily daunted. Her arms akimbo, she placed herself in front of Rabyand began to abuse him roundly.

  "So you mean to say you don't remember me, do you, my fine sir?" And sheforthwith began a string of voluble reminiscences which Raby in vainstrove to stem, beside himself with indignation, but he could not get ina word edgeways.

  At last the judge intervened. Till then he had contented himself withpulling his moustache the better to control his ill-suppressedamusement.

  "That will do, woman, we have had enough of your tongue. We must havedocumentary evidence. Have the parties marriage-certificates toproduce?"

  The little Rascian drew out the desired document from her pocket, whilstthe rival claimant in great haste dived into a huge bag she carried, andproduced the certificate wrapped up in a coloured handkerchief.

  They were to all appearances genuine enough. One was drawn up by theregistrar at Szent-Pal, the other dated from the commune of Belovacz onthe military frontier. Both documents were countersigned by the parishpriests, and bore the official seal of the ecclesiastical authorities.

  "But I have never in my life even been in the neighbourhood of theseplaces," cried Raby in desperation, fairly trembling with rage. "Theseregistered formulas are falsified; I charge the man who produces themwith forgery."

  The little Rascian girl here began to wring her hands and weep, but herHungarian rival gave her tongue its rein, and she poured forth such aflood of abuse on Raby that his every fibre thrilled with indignation.

  With much trouble the heydukes restored order, and the judge called onthe court to be quiet.

  "Silence, his honour is speaking; the judgment will now be given, so letthe litigants retire from the court," was the order.

  It was hardly five minutes before the contending parties were recalledand the verdict given.

  "The case as heard by us is very complex. It lies between two partieswho prefer counter-accusations against each other. The one says hisopponent has robbed him of his wife, whilst the accused becomesplaintiff in his turn, and incriminates his accuser as a bigamist, andtherefore incapacitated for demanding the restoration of his runawayspouse. Therefore, we beg to refer the case to the united courts of theprovinces of Pesth, Pilis, and Solt, that they may adjust the relationsbetween the contending parties satisfactorily. Meantime the case isdismissed." And herewith followed in legal phrase the reasons why thesaid courts should be pressed to institute an inquiry into the wholesuit between Raby and Petray, and its complications, and the partieswere adjured to leave the court.

  Raby was sorry enough he had ever come, for what had it all availed him?

  Scarcely had the door of the court closed behind him than he heard theend of it all, the horrible mocking laughter which burst forth from thewhole room, directly he had left it--a sound which followed him out intothe corridor.

  He was completely staggered. The shame, the exasperation, the deceptionof it all, and this persistent persecution--how powerless he was againstthem! His very senses seemed deserting him. So distracted was he in hisbewilderment, that when he reached the end of the passage, instead ofgoing straight out, he took the flight of steps which led down to thecells. Through the prison doors came the sound of merriment. Even thecriminals were mocking him. And that was likely enough, seeing that thetwo women who had impersonated his wives, had been requisitioned fromthe ranks of the prisoners.

  For three days did Raby remain in hiding at his inn, not daring to showhis face. He fancied all Pesth and Buda were making merry over his fall.

  Only on the evening of the third day did he venture to set out for home.And even then he muffled himself up in his mantle so that he might passunrecognised.

  But as soon as he reached the open country, the fresh air exhilaratedhis drooping spirits and he saw things in a different light. It wascertainly very impolitic to betray his vexation, for in this case hewas sure to get the worst of it. It would be far wiser to disguise hisreal feelings.

  The first person he sought out was his uncle.

  "Remember, my boy, it's just what I told you. Didn't I say that if youwould insist on marrying Fruzsinka you would have wife enough. And, sureenough, here you have three! And by the time you have done, it may be agreat many more."

  "How do you mean, uncle?"

  "Why, as soon as the news spreads that the marriage certificates ofthese women were forged, othe
r 'wives' will be turning up from allparts, and a nice dance they will lead you."

  Raby, in spite of his real misery, could not forbear a grim smile.

  "Where did you say the two marriage articles came from, eh?"

  "One was from Szent-Pal, the other from Belovacz."

  "So that's it, is it? Well, Szent-Pal was utterly destroyed by theinsurrection of Hora-Kloska three years ago, and Belovacz is a haunt offreebooters. In neither place is there priest or sexton, church orregister, as I happen to know, so seek all your life long, you'll neverfind proof of the forgery."

  "Now I see why the witnesses came from so far afield; it was manifestlya part of the plot."

  "By the way," said his uncle, "you'll want some one to look after yourhouse, for in your absence your maid Boske has been locked up."

  "Whatever do you mean?" demanded Raby indignantly. "My servant lockedup! why what is the meaning of it?"

  "H'm, it was by order of the municipality."

  "And pray what for?"

  "That, no one can say. I only knew through the neighbours coming roundto tell me that I ought to send my servant over, for your cows werestanding at the gate, and that there was no one to let them in, seeingthat poor Boske had been marched off between two officers to thepolice-station."

  "The deuce she has!" cried Raby, and he seized his sword. "But I won'tstand that!"

  And without another word he dashed out of the house and down the streetat full tilt, in the direction of the police-station, which was close tothe post office. He thrust open the door, without announcing himself,and shouted so furiously to the unlucky porter that the latter nearlydied of fright.

  "Where is the jailer? In heaven's name, tell me," thundered Raby.

  "He is drinking in there," said the man, pointing to a door.

  Raby dashed into the room and found the jailer, seized him by the lappetof his jacket, shook him, and yelled:

  "You brute, you scoundrel, what have you done with my servant, I want toknow?"

  "Your worship, the judge had her locked up in 'the Hole.'"

  "Let her out, then, at once, you hound! If you don't, I will slay you onthe spot, and willingly pay up the forty gulden fine I shall be mulctedof for killing a peasant. Where is the cell, where are the keys? I tellyou, you are to give them to me directly."

  The frightened official said humbly that he would soon get the keys, butRaby held him by the scruff of the neck, and dragged him to the door of"the Hole," made him open it, and called out, "Come out directly,Boske!"

  Directly she appeared he seized the girl by the hand, and led her out ofher captivity. And he never let go her hand all the way home, in spiteof her wish to withdraw it.

  "You are a good, honest girl, Boske, who have only been persecuted on myaccount; there, there, don't cry, they shall pay for this, sure enough!"

  And he flourished his sword so threateningly, that all who met them werequite scared and hastened to clear out of their path.

  The gentry had robbed him of his wife, and now the burghers had stolenaway his servant; it was truly "adding insult to injury!"

  "And now just come in," said Raby, "and tell me all about it."

  "Oh, but I've no time to," exclaimed Boske, "besides, it's a long story.First of all I must run and look after my cows. I've not seen them fortwo days. They weren't milked either, and perhaps they are starving."

  "Oh, it's all right, the postmaster's maid tended them."

  "Ay, what does Susanne know about it, I should like to know? The duncow, she won't give a drop of milk if anyone else milks her, and thedappled one, if she knows that a stranger is there instead of me, willkick over both pail and milking-stool. And no one can feed them as Ican. Just listen, gracious master, how they begin to low when they hearmy voice."

  And away ran Boske into the cowhouse. Not for anything would she havetold her own story till the cows were looked after. They recognised heralso directly, and the dun cow licked her red arm affectionately, whenshe went to tether her, and Boske made them a nice turnip "mash," in awooden bowl, and fed her favourites. Then she washed the pail clean, andwhen she had put everything in order, she sat down to her milking, andhere Raby found her.

  "Now you can tell me, while you are at work, all that has happened," hesaid kindly.

  "If the gracious master does not mind listening to me in the cowhouse.It was like this. When I was setting the yeast to rise the day beforeyesterday, for baking, in the kitchen, in came two police-officers,saying I must go with them to the police-court. I told them I had notstolen anything. Thereupon, one said, I was not to make a noise, and hethreatened to lay his cane about my shoulders, and if I didn't go of myown free will, he'd make me. I told him my master was away. He said thatwould be all right, and that we could shut the door and leave the keyunder a beam outside, where I could find it again. So what could I do? Ihad to leave the yeast in the trough where it got all sour and mouldy,and go off to the police-station. When I got there, I saw lots of mensitting round a table, and they all looked at me and asked me questions,and told me I'd got to be sworn. I thought they meant being married, sosaid I didn't mind if there was anyone there I liked well enough tomarry. Then one of them said it wasn't a question of marrying, but thatI must swear to what I knew about the master."

  "A regular inquisition," muttered Raby.

  "'I'll swear fast enough,' said I, 'that I know nought of him but whatis good.'

  "'Then,' says the notary, 'what about the peasants that he sets on torebel against their landlords?'

  "'Nothing of the kind,' says I; 'the man who says that ought to behanged.'

  "With that, he asks if my master did not throw Dacso Marczi and thesurveyor into the river. So I told them it was a wicked lie."

  "That was quite true, Boske!"

  "Then they asked me if you were not a sorcerer, and did not call up evilspirits at night-time."

  "And, pray, what did you say to that?"

  "Why I just laughed outright, and told them I had never even heard mymaster say 'the devil take them,' much less call up evil spirits. Butthey said the Devil himself would carry me off if I didn't tell thetruth. And when they asked me to swear that the gracious master was asorcerer, I just swore by the Crucifix it was not true. But they were soangry that they just packed me off to prison, then and there, and thereI was left without food or drink till the gracious master himself cameand fetched me out."

  Poor Boske finished her story with a burst of weeping, for up till nowshe had not had the time for crying. But now she had got her tale over,and the milking done, she cried her heart out into the corners of herapron.

  "That was quite enough for once," muttered Raby to himself. But hedeceived himself if he fancied it was enough, for there was yet more tocome.

  When they had recovered the key from its hiding-place under the beam,Boske went first to open the house, but she started back in horror, anddropped the pail of milk she was carrying, as she exclaimed,

  "Gracious master, just look, thieves have been in! We have been robbed!"

  Sure enough it was so; the whole house had been completely rifled ofvaluables. So thoroughly had the work been done that only the emptychairs and tables remained.

  Boske broke into a wail of despair.

  "Hush, be quiet," ordered Raby sternly, putting his hand over her mouth.

  "But they've broken into my trunk," she cried; "they have stolen my newpetticoat, and best kerchief, and my shoes with the rosettes."

  "Never mind," said her master consolingly, "to-morrow I'll take you toBuda, and buy you some fresh ones. These are trifles. The thievesprobably came after my papers, but those I luckily had with me."

  At this Boske was appeased, also she remarked it was a comfort thelady-mistress had taken the embroidered quilt with her, so the thieveswere done out of that at any rate.

  "But where is the house-dog?"

  They found the poor beast, by the well, stiff and dead.

  "The brutes!" cried Boske, horrified; "they have drowned him,
they havenot even left us the dog alive."

  Raby drove the weeping girl into the house and spoke earnestly to her:

  "Now, Boske, listen to me. You must never tell anyone what has happened,and that the house has been robbed, for if you do, they may put you inprison again, and you may not get out for years."

  With which piece of parting advice Raby repaired to his uncle's. Here hecollected his papers, and stowed them away in the pocket of his coat, helikewise donned his fur mantle, told his uncle shortly what hadoccurred, and then started to go back home.

  It was already nightfall when he took his way down the street to his ownhome.

  As he passed Peter Paprika's house he heard a curious whizzing noisenear him, and at the same moment was conscious of having been struck ablow on the side, which so staggered him, it nearly made him lose hisbalance. He looked round; there was not a soul in sight in the street.He could not imagine from whence the mysterious report had come. Butafter he had got home, he found a little round perforation on the leftside of his coat, which was plainly a bullet hole.

  When he drew his papers out of his breast-pocket, out fell a leadenbullet which had evidently bored through so far and been turned aside bythe packet of documents.

  The whizzing sound our hero had heard had been the report of an air-gun,and had he not placed the papers in his breast-pocket, it would havebeen all over with him.