The Red, White, and Green Part 73

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Then my thoughts turned to the faithful Mecsey; to John Rakoczy, my true and gallant friend, whom I should never again see; finally pa.s.sing 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sembled, 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 Sandor, 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 G.o.d 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, "G.o.d bless you, captain!" and I became aware that many men of my old regiment were grouped around Mecsey Sandor and Dobozy.

I smiled a last farewell at them, but my aching eyes sought in vain for the n.o.ble 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 s.p.a.ce 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 pa.s.sing.

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 doc.u.ment.

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 s.h.i.+ning 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 Red, White, and Green Part 73

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The Red, White, and Green Part 73 summary

You're reading The Red, White, and Green Part 73. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Herbert Hayens already has 605 views.

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