CHAPTER XXX.
One morning there was an unwonted stir in "Number 3" cell. Some womencame in to scour the room and fleck away the cobwebs. Moreover, theyplaced a fine silken coverlet over the second bed, and the warder cameand fixed a nail in the wall. A new prisoner was expected, they said.
Raby was naturally curious to see what his room mate would be like; norhad he long to wait.
About eleven of the clock, arrived the expected captive; they could hearhim talking as he came along the corridor, and noted how the gaolerkissed his hand respectfully, as he opened the door ceremoniously forhim.
It seemed to Raby as if he had seen his face somewhere before, but hecould not remember where. The new-comer had his hair carefully powderedand dressed in the fashionable cue, and he wore his ratherfierce-looking moustachios stiffened in the Turkish fashion. His dresswas, however, distinctly Hungarian, for his green coat, variegated hose,and gold-laced boots were all in the prevailing Magyar mode.
The heydukes who accompanied him all seemed at his service. One drewout his pipe from a large leathern case, a second handed him hissnuff-box, a third his pocket-handkerchief, whilst yet another spread abearskin by the side of his bed, and set out bottles and boxes ofcosmetics in a row. The stranger appeared quite oblivious of thepresence of another person in the room, and comported himself as if thewhole Assembly House had belonged to him.
The worthy Janosics evidently thought it time to repeat his instructionsto the captive, so that he might recognise his limitations.
"May it please your worship, the prisoners are forbidden to smoke," hesaid obsequiously.
But his worship, ignoring the observation, remarked with a lordly air:"If the tobacco runs out, just cut me fresh, will you, Janosics? Butdon't leave it to the heydukes, they don't understand it as well as youdo. Good tobacco, mind, and don't let them bring inferior. My cook musthave my orders," he went on, but the castellan interrupted himrespectfully:
"May it please your worship, the prisoners' meals consist of puddingthree times a week, and meat three times, with vegetable broth onFridays."
"My cook, I say, must have my orders," went on the other, not heeding,"and must make me fish-soup on Fridays, and I must have my wine sent inat once."
"May it please your worship, the prisoners are not allowed to drinkwine."
But his protest availed little, for the new-comer proceeded airily:
"And please, Janosics, see that the wine is well re-corked once it hasbeen opened. And take care there is some fresh water in the wine-cooler,as well as plenty of it for washing."
Then he looked round him. "Tell my cook to provide two covers; I don'tlike eating by myself, and don't want other people to look on while Idine."
"The gentleman here is on invalid diet, and has light meals served fromupstairs," said the gaoler.
Raby turned his back on the new-comer; he did not want him to think hetroubled his head about him.
"Never mind that, let the dinner be served for two, I tell you, andthere will be all the more over for those who want it."
"May it please your worship, the prisoners must go to bed at eighto'clock every night, and make no noise, for the deputy-lieutenant livesjust overhead."
"All right. But, Janosics, you must not let the prisoners go clanking upand down the corridor with their chains; the noise gets on my nerves, Ican't stand it! Now you can go, and if I want anything, I'll just knockon the door, so the guard had better be on the alert. But let them takecare to wipe their boots before coming in."
The gaoler and heydukes blundered out of the room, and the new arrivalturned to look at his companion. He appeared a jovial sort of person,and to be very genially disposed.
"So it is Mr. Mathias Raby after all," murmured the stranger with asmile.
Raby looked sharply at him. "You have the advantage of me," he said.
The new-comer laughed slily. "Ah, I recognise you well enough, butperhaps you don't remember me, though we have met before?"
Raby had to admit that he had no such recollection.
"Ah, that's because I was--well, differently dressed, perhaps, yet it isso, I can assure you, and what's more, I spoke four words to you,although you have so short a memory for them."
And the speaker sat down and began filling his pipe and lighting up fora smoke.
Raby in vain sought for a solution to the mystery. After the smoker hadtaken a couple of pulls at the pipe, he went back to where our hero sat,and planted himself on the window-ledge letting his legs dangle, whilehis spurs rattled.
"Is it possible they didn't tell you who the prisoner was that was toshare your cell?" he asked.
"I did not even ask," admitted Raby, "who it might be."
"Then I will tell you--his name is Karcsataji Miska."
"Gyongyom Miska?"
"Don't make a mistake!" pursued the highwayman, "and think I let myselfbe taken: I am here solely through my own fault. It's a strange story,I'll tell you more about it later, I can't talk on an empty stomach!"
And thereupon, he took out a big flask of brandy from a case, andproduced some glasses and white bread, and called upon his companion tojoin him.
But Raby stood coldly aloof. He could not forget that before him stoodthe man who had so cruelly wronged him, the man who had been the chosenlover of Fruzsinka! All the manly pride of his nature revolted at thethought. Yet he could not help a feeling of satisfaction that the manfor once had been judged on his deserts, and what those were, Raby knewonly too well. But that his rival should be thus sharing his prison andpartaking the same fate--this was indeed a strange turn for events totake.
When dinner-time came the highwayman knocked on the wall for theheydukes, who promptly responded to the signal, and hastened to servequite a luxurious meal, but Raby excused himself on the score of hisdining at a later hour. His host did not press him, but so vigorouslytackled the good fare, that soon the dishes were cleared completely.
Raby, the while, had leisure to meditate on the course events had taken.It gave an exquisite edge to his misery to be penned up in the same roomwith a man he hated.
Yet such a man, since he was still keeping up apparently his relationswith the world outside, could help him vastly, and would be a betterprop to rely on than the gipsy-carrier: he had simply to give letters tothe heydukes, and they would deliver them as bidden. Yet his better selfrevolted at the notion of being helped by Karcsataji, for, in his inmostsoul, he had nothing but the bitterest contempt for this highway robber,who had been the lover of Fruzsinka. No, he would receive no favours,were it liberty itself, from such a hand!