CHAPTER XLII.
Poor Raby, he was a prisoner in such surroundings that they would haveserved for the wildest page of romance. No sound came to him from theouter world, as he lay there chained to the blank wall in his livinggrave--the underground dungeon whose door no key opened. Yet for allthis he was not forgotten.
In the deathlike stillness of the night he heard what sounded like anoise of scratching in the roof of his cell, as if someone were tryingto bore through the ceiling.
All at once the sound ceased, and from above he heard a well-rememberedvoice: "Poor Raby!" it murmured.
At the sound, a thrill of joy shook the prisoner, in spite of hisfetters; it spoke to him of life and hope.
"Can you hear me?" asked the voice.
"Perfectly," answered Raby.
"Trust in God, He will deliver you, He will not let you be lost. Ifto-morrow you hear a sound of knocking, give heed. Good-bye."
Then there was again stillness. But Raby slept in his heavy fettersrocked by that hope, as peacefully as a child in its mother's arms.
When he awoke at daybreak, it seemed like a dream, till he was remindedof its reality by a light tapping on the ceiling of his cell.
And then, just over his head, there appeared a long hollow cane thrustdown from a small aperture in the roof, and it came lower and lower tillit reached his fettered hands.
"Have you got it?" asked the voice. "If so, open it carefully."
Raby carefully opened the sealed end and found a minute phial of ink,and an equally slender pen made from a crow's feather. Round it wasrolled a sheet of paper.
"Write, and I will wait to take it," said the voice, and the prisoner,as might be imagined, was not long in obeying the request of his unseenmonitress. Carefully and minutely, in spite of his fettered hand, hetraced on the paper a letter to the Emperor, telling him all that hadhappened, and in the relief of giving this welcome vent to his feelings,he forgot his wretched surroundings. When it was done he rolled up thepaper, tucked it in the cane, and pushed it up again through theceiling.
On the evening of the next day he heard the voice again: "Dear Raby,take courage. Your letter has gone to Vienna by the Jew Abraham."
Raby's heart warmed at this news, it would mean at the most only a weekmore of his present captivity--and for that time he had bread and waterenough.
Meantime, before the said week came to an end, his Excellency thegovernor sent for Mr. Laskoy.
"We are in a nice quandary, my friend, and you will have to get us outof it; hear what has happened," and his Excellency paused as if toemphasise what was to follow. "Three days after Raby was imprisoned, theEmperor summoned me to Vienna. I went as fast as posts could carry me,to hear, as his first question: 'What have the authorities done withRaby?'
"I told him that Mathias Raby had already had a fair hearing before themagistracy, but that owing to a dangerous sickness which had suddenlyovertaken him, he was now in the hands of the doctor, pending beingconfronted with his accusers. The Emperor did not interrupt me, but whenI had done, out he comes with a letter written by your prisoner in spiteof his irons and fast barred door, setting forth his grievances to hismaster in very plain terms. And I can assure you he didn't spare eitherof us."
Laskoy was petrified with amazement. "That means," pursued hisExcellency, "that Raby has found ways and means of writing to the Kaiserfrom his dungeon. When I had read the letter through, the Emperor said:'Mark my words, if Mathias Raby is not released from prison by the dayafter to-morrow (you will be back in Pesth by then), I shall give ordersthat his custodians be themselves arrested and put in the Dark Tower forthe rest of their lives on bread and water. So you see what you have toreckon with, and the best thing you can do is to set the prisoner freeat once.'"
The lieutenant did not want urging, he rode to the prison in hot haste,and demanded to see the head-gaoler. No sooner had Janosics appeared,bearing his huge bunch of keys, than Laskoy sprang at him straight awaylike a wild cat, seized him by the ears, and banged his head against thedoor unmercifully, till the keys rattled again in his hands.
"Take that for your pains," he cried, "I'll teach you how to look afteryour prisoners! What do you mean by letting Raby write to the Emperorfrom his dungeon?"
The castellan was dumbfoundered with pain and amazement. "All I can sayis, your worship," he cried, rubbing his head, "that Raby must be inleague with the Devil."
And though all the authorities of Pesth put their heads together, theycould not solve the mystery. The only thing they were clear upon wasthat Janosics deserved fifty strokes with the lash, a punishment hepromptly received.
* * * * *
The following day his Excellency went to the Assembly House, and twoletters were put into his hands by Laskoy with a crafty smile. Both werein Raby's handwriting. The one was dated from Szent-Endre; it containedan expression of the writer's gratitude for his release by the Pesthauthorities, and his willingness to abide henceforth by the laws of theland. Further, it announced his determination to withdraw from publiclife and attend to his private concerns, and the writer begged that theaccompanying letter, if it met with the governor's approbation, mightbe, after reading, forwarded by special messenger to the Emperor.
The second missive contained a formal admission by the writer that hehad been led astray by false evidence, that the story of thetreasure-chest was a lying invention of the deceased "pope"; further itexpressed his regret at having caused the Pesth magistracy so muchinconvenience, and his determination not to return to Vienna but to passthe rest of his life in the country, to which end he begged the pensionallotted to him might be sent to him at Szent-Endre.
His Excellency immediately dispatched this missive to Vienna, and droveback home. You do not imprison Pesth people so easily in the Dark Tower.
* * * * *
Yes, it was all very cleverly arranged, but perhaps the reader will notbe surprised to learn that Raby still languished in his dungeon a closercaptive than ever. At the discovery of Raby's letter to the Emperor, acontingent of heydukes had visited the prisoner in his cell, searchedthe dungeon for ink and paper, but in vain, for the thick rime whichglazed the ceiling, effectually hid the small hole at the top. Theresult was that, failing to get any light on the mystery, Raby wasfettered closer than before, the door barred and sealed with thelieutenant's own private seal, and the prisoner was once more left tothe solitude of his cell.
And as for the supposed letters, why they were easily accounted for bythe fact that an accomplished forger then in prison, who was anxious toplease his judges to the best of his ability, which was great, hadwritten them at their bidding.
So Raby waited till his good angel again provided him, by means of thehole in the ceiling, with ink and paper in the cane, but this time heonly wrote the words, "I am still here, your Majesty," and signed itwith his blood, for his foot was bleeding profusely through the chaincutting into it. But even this was assuaged by his protectress by meansof a linen bandage concealed in the cane, with which Raby was enabled tobind up his ankle.
Before the week was out, his dungeon-door was opened one morning, and anunusually large allowance of bread, and two pitchers of water werethrust into his cell. Then the man he had seen once before, whom herecognised as a mason, appeared with his assistants, and with theirhelp, took his cell door off its hinges, and proceeded to brick it up.And through Raby's mind ran old stories he had read of people beingwalled up alive in the Middle Ages, and a shuddering horror fell uponhim, at the fate reserved for him.