St. Peter's Umbrella Part 9

The next morning the cramp returned, and was only partially relieved by the medicine Anna gave him. He was frightfully weak, and only now and then showed interest in what was going on around him.

"Give us a good dinner, Anna," he said once, "and make dumplings, the boy likes them."

And half an hour afterward:

"Make the dumplings with jam, Anna, the boy likes them best so."

The only thing he would take himself was mineral water. Toward afternoon the cramp was much worse, and he began to spit blood. Anna was frightened, and began to cry, and ask if he would not have a doctor or a priest. Gregorics shook his head.

"No, no, I am quite ready to die, everything is in order. I am only waiting for Gyuri. What time is it?"

The church clock just then struck twelve.

"It is time the coach arrived. Go and tell Matyko to wait outside by the gate, and carry Gyuri's bag in when he comes."

Anna wrung her hands in despair. Should she own she had not sent off the telegram? No, she dare not tell him; she would carry on the deception, and send Matyko out to the gate. But the sick man got more and more restless.

"Anna," he said, "take the horn out, and tell Matyko to blow it when the boy arrives, so that I may know at once."

So Anna took down the horn, and had less courage than ever to own the truth.

The sick man was quieter after that, and listened attentively, raising his head at every sound, and feeling for his umbrella every now and then.

"Open the window, Anna, or I shan't hear Matyko blow the horn."

The sunlight streamed in through the open window, and the perfume of acacia blossoms was borne in on the breeze.

"Put your hand on my forehead, Anna."

She did as she was told, and found his skin cold and dry. The sick man sighed.

"Your hand is too rough, Anna. The boy's is so soft and warm."

He smiled faintly, then opened his eyes.

"Did you not hear anything? Listen! Was that the horn?"

"I don't think so. I heard nothing."

Gregorics pointed to a clock in the next room.

"Stop it," he said. "I can't hear anything. Quick, quick!"

Anna got on a chair, and stopped the clock. In that moment she heard a sound in the next room, something like a groan, then the muttered words: "I hear the horn!" then another groan.

Anna jumped off the chair, and ran into the next room. There all was still; on the bed were large spots of blood, and Gregorics lay there dead, his face white, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. One hand hung down by his side, the other firmly held the umbrella.

Thus died poor Pal Gregorics, and the news of his death soon spread among his relations and his neighbors. The doctor said he had died of some illness with a long Latin name, which no one had ever heard, and said that if he had been called sooner he might have saved him.

Boldizsar was soon on the spot, also his brother Gaspar with all his family. Mrs. Panyoki, the eldest sister, was in the country at the time, and on receipt of the news late the same evening, exclaimed despairingly:

"What a deception! Here have I been praying all my life for him to die in the winter, and he must needs go and die in the summer. Is there any use in praying nowadays? What a deception! Those two thieves will take everything they can lay their hands on."

She ordered the horses to be harnessed, and drove off as fast as she could, arriving about midnight, by which time the two brothers were in possession of everything, had even taken up their abode in the house, and driven Anna out in spite of her protests that the house was hers, and she was mistress there.

"Only the four walls are yours, and those you shall have. The rest is ours, and a good-for-nothing creature like you has no right here. So off you go!"

Gaspar was a lawyer, and understood things; how was poor Anna to take her stand against him. She could only cry, put on her hat, pack up her box, and limp over the road to Matyko's mother. But before she went the two brothers turned her box out, to see she took nothing with her to which she had no right.

The funeral took place on the third day. It was not a grand one by any means; no one shed a tear except poor Anna, who did not dare go near the coffin for fear of being sent off by the relations. The boy had not yet arrived from Szeged, and it was better so, for he would probably have been turned out of the courtyard by the two brothers of the dead man.

But even though Anna did not walk with the mourners, she was the centre of all eyes, for did not that big house outside the town belong to her now? And when she dropped her handkerchief wet with her tears, did not all the unmarried men, one of them even a lawyer, rush to pick it up for her?

This incident went to prove how much she had risen in people's estimation. After the funeral, there was a general gathering of all the family at Sztolarik's in order to hear the will read. Well, it was a rather strange one on the whole.

The old gentleman had left 2000 florins to the Academy of Arts and Sciences, and 2000 florins to each of the ladies at whose houses he had visited years before, and to those who had refused to marry him. Nine ladies were mentioned by name, and the legacy had been placed in the hands of Sztolarik to be paid at once to the legatees.

The relations listened with bated breath, every now and then throwing in a remark, such as, "Very good. Quite right of him," etc. Only Mrs.

Panyoki muttered, when the nine ladies' names were read out: "Dear me, how very strange!"

Boldizsar, who was of opinion it was not worth while worrying over such trifles (after all, Pal had been slightly mad all his life), said grandly:

"Please continue, Mr. Sztolarik."

The lawyer answered shortly: "There is no more!"

Their surprise was great, and there was a general rush to look at the will.

"Impossible!" they all exclaimed at once.

The lawyer turned his back on them repeating:

"I tell you there is not another word!"

"And the rest of his fortune, his estates in Bohemia?"

"There is no mention of them. I can only read what I see written here; you must at least understand that, gentlemen."

"It is incomprehensible," groaned Gaspar.

"The curious part of it is," remarked Boldizsar, "that there is no mention of that woman and her son."

"Yes, of course," answered Gaspar, "it does seem strange."

The lawyer hastened to rea.s.sure them.

"It can make no difference to you," he said. "Whatever fortune there may be that is not mentioned in the will falls to you in any case."

"Yes, of course," said Gaspar, "and that is only right. But the money?