The Village Notary: A Romance of Hungarian Life

The Dustbury election was as complete in its arrangements as the zealous care of the rival parties could make it, and there was, moreover, a company of soldiers for the express purpose of assisting the magistrates. This circumstance caused a few of the older assessors to shake their heads with an air of great wisdom. But the young men, who were children of their time, were by no means astonished to see the bayonets, because they knew that soldiers were present at all the elections in the adjacent counties; and why should not Takshony have its soldiers as well as its betters? To cry out against the army was perfectly absurd!

The ceremonies of the election came off in due course. The lord-lieutenant addressed the assembly less (he said) for the purpose of enlightening them, than because he wished to give vent to his feelings and to those of his audience, who drowned his voice in deafening cheers. Rety too made a considerable display of oratorical talent in his farewell speech for himself and his brother magistrates; and, lastly, a provisional court was appointed for the suppression and punishment of any excesses that might be committed. This done, two deputations were sent off under the guidance of Baron Shoskuty and another magistrate in red and blue, for the purpose of collecting the votes, while the parties raised Bantornyi and Rety, and carried them – not without some mutual violence – out of the gate; the yard was left to his Excellency's private enjoyment, a benefit which he shared with three curates and an old assessor. Even the ladies, eager to attend the birth of the new magistrates, and panting for the glory of the fight, turned to the opposite side of the council-house, whence they looked down upon the battle of the vote-collecting deputations.

The council-house, which was built in the form of a square, had, besides the front gate, two more gates at the sides of the building. They were each occupied by a deputation. The front entrance was closed, and the Cortes were invited to pass through either Bantornyi's or Rety's gate, as the case might be.

The county of Takshony had lately become a convert to the ballot, principally at Tengelyi's suggestion. The sight of the preparations for carrying out one of his favorite principles would have gladdened that good man's heart. A small table was placed close to the gate and round it sat Shoskuty, Slatzanek, Kishlaki, and – for the other party too was represented – the brother of the rival candidate. At some distance two screens were placed, and between them the table with the urn. Augustin Karvay and Mr. Skinner watched the gates, to prevent the approach of any unqualified persons. Mr. Catspaw joined the last-named party as a volunteer.

The assessors lighted their pipes; the gates were flung open, and the electors entered for the purpose of secret voting. They, to a man, on seeing the deputation, shouted "Eljen Rety! Eljen Bantornyi!" a shout to which the Cortes outside replied with equal fervor; and the person entering having then done his duty as a nobleman, retired behind the screens to give his vote.

"Nothing in the world so beautiful as this plan of secret voting," said Mr. James, taking his cigar and pushing off the ashes, while he shook the hand of an elector who had come up to the table with a thundering shout of "Eljen Bantornyi!" "If that contrivance could be introduced in England, they would have the most perfect constitution. The ballot, the ballot for ever! that's our cry; it makes a man feel so independent!"

"All this is very well," sighed Kishlaki; "but I wish to goodness they would not go on bawling in that heathenish way. My friend," said he, interrupting one of the Cortes in his shout of "Eljen Rety!" "don't roar so loud. It's secret voting, you know!"

"Of course, so it is! Vivat the Sheriff Rety!" And he disappeared behind the screens.

"I really do beg your pardon," said Kishlaki, rising; "but this must be stopped. It's a mere farce, you know."

"But who can dictate to the feelings of our dear noble friends?" cried Shaskay; "it's natural that they should vent them at such a moment, and they do vent them, and – "

"Very well, let them give vent to their feelings; but what the deuce are the screens for? Besides, they are continually being kicked over."

Shaskay remarked that the screens were placed there by the express order of the magistrates.

"Then let the worshipful magistrates know that they have decreed the thing which cannot be done!" cried Kishlaki. "These fellows roar all the louder for being allowed to roar singly; they vie in showing the strength of their lungs. We shan't come to the end of this kind of thing; and here's a precious cold draught, let me tell you."

"But, begging your pardon," interposed Mr. James, "is there any harm in these people shouting a name? They may still give their secret vote behind the screen. Quite independent, you know."

"Ay, indeed; but – "

"I say," continued Mr. James, "how the deuce can they see for whom we vote, no matter what name they may cry?"

"But the names of the two candidates are written on the urns: now if a man can't read, how is he to vote? I have seen ten of them at least who I know never knew a letter. Hollo, Pishta!" cried Kishlaki, stopping the man who was just walking to the screens; "do you know your letters?" And Pishta replied, with great pride, "I do not read before the Lord our God."

"But then you can read!" suggested Shoskuty. "You do not read because you don't choose; but you could if you would?"

"No, I never learnt it. I am none of your Slowak students; neither did my grandfather learn it in his time."

"I told you so!" cried Kishlaki, triumphantly; and addressing the Cortes, "What urn did you throw your ball in?"

"The right-hand one!" replied the Cortes, adjusting his bunda. "Any thing to please my judge. Eljen Bantornyi!"

"This man came to vote for Bantornyi, and you see, gentlemen, he has voted for Rety," said Kishlaki, with great satisfaction. "Now I ask whether this sort of thing is to continue?"

"It is very extraordinary!" sighed Mr. James; while Slatzanek, stroking his moustache, protested that accidents would happen.

"Accidents, indeed! let us have another look at these accidents. Can you read?"

"No."

"And you?"

"God forbid!"

"And you?"

"I learnt it when a child, but – "

"And you?"

"A little!"

Mr. Shaskay, who seemed greatly amused by these questions, and the answers which they elicited, said he hoped Mr. Kishlaki was now satisfied that the illiterate were in the majority; and James hastened to the gate, where he implored every new comer to vote for his brother. But Shoskuty, desirous to carry out the resolution of the county magistrates, placed two assessors behind the screens for the purpose of explaining the names on the urns to the voters.

The ballot was being proceeded with on this improved and practical principle, when Tengelyi, accompanied by Kalman Kishlaki and others, approached the gate. A single look showed him the absurdity of the proceedings. "How, in the name of Heaven," said he, addressing Shoskuty, "can you, dare you, allow this gross violation of the county law?"

"Violation!" cried Shoskuty. "What violation? What do you mean, sir?"

"Did not the county magistrates give an order that the voting should be secret?"

"And because they gave that order, sir, we obey that order, sir! Or do you think, sir, that we sit here for the mere joke of the thing? What are the screens for, I should like to know? Secret voting, indeed! What do you call this, sir? Hasn't the draught given me a cold already? and how dare you say, sir, that I violate my instructions?"

"You cannot go on in this manner!" said Tengelyi, with great warmth; "I'll speak to the lord-lieutenant. This election is null and void."

"Hold you tongue, sir notary!" cried Slatzanek, angrily; "don't you mistake this place for one of your alehouse clubs. You may give your vote if you please, and for whom you please, but we won't be lectured, and, least of all, by the like of you."

"Stop, sir!" cried Kalman. "Tengelyi is right. There can be no secret voting in the presence of two people."

"I thought so too," said old Kishlaki, "but the majority – "

"Sir, I do pray – "

"Rogo humillime– "

"I say – "

"I am going to explain it!" cried Slatzanek, Shoskuty, and another assessor; but Shoskuty's shrill voice overcrowed them, and the baron said: —

"My dear young sir, I do pray you will consider what your honoured father was pleased to observe just now, namely, that the majority of this deputation are agreed on all the arrangements of this ballot, and that it is quite ridiculous to talk of errors or faults. And besides, are you not aware that no act is valid in Hungary without the testimonium legale of two magistrates? Very well, then, the gentlemen behind the screen will – if need be – prove that the Cortes gave secret votes —absque irâ et studio– quite independent."

Kalman laughed. Tengelyi spoke, though no one listened, of the sanctity of the laws, and the proceedings came to a stand-still. Mr. Skinner, to whom Catspaw had whispered, advanced, and, seizing Tengelyi by the collar, said, "Be off, sir; you have no business here, not being a nobleman!"

The astonishment which these few words created was prodigious. Shoskuty wrung his hands; Shaskay sighed and looked up to heaven; Slatzanek looked fierce and scornful; and old Kishlaki, who felt most for Tengelyi, exclaimed, "Did I ever! – no, I never!" Saying which he fell back into his chair.

Tengelyi's face was purple with rage; but the justice, addressing the deputation, said, "Strange though it may seem to you, gentlemen, this man is not noble; I move that he shall not be allowed to vote."

Tengelyi had meanwhile regained his self-possession. "And who," said he, "is there to prove that I am not noble?"

"Onus probandi semper privato incumbit!" said the recorder.

"Of course it does!" cried Shoskuty. "Incumbit privato, which means you must give us proof of your noble descent, or you may go and be – for all I care. Noble descent is proved – "

The worthy baron's memory failed him, and the recorder resumed the argument.

"Have you a royal donation, sir, the 'Armales,' or have you an authentic Transsumtum, or the Statuaries with the clause 'Cum nos,' or, at least, according to Verbötzi I. 6., the receipts for the quartalitium?"

"Why," said Tengelyi, pettishly, "there is not a man in all Hungary who can give such satisfactory proofs of his noble descent as I can, but – "

"Very good sir; give them!" cried the recorder. "Perhaps you claim a prescriptive right; but that too must be proved with documents. You prove it with extracts from baptismal registers, royal grants of land – come sir, give us something of the kind!"

"My papers are in my house."

"Then bring them here. As soon as you bring those documents we will admit you to the vote," said the recorder, with a sneer.

"Of course," cried Shoskuty. "Show us your papers!"

"But I always enjoyed the privileges of a nobleman; I always paid my contributions to their rates."

"Fraus et dolus nemini opitulatur!" cried Shaskay. "Why did you not register your patent in the county?"

"Because no one ever doubted of my nobility," said the notary, trembling with passion. "Because I stood for a justice seat, and was actually appointed to a notariat."

"It's a good thing for a man to have his patent properly registered," said the recorder: "if you had been more cautious, you would have avoided this awkward inquiry. But your having pretended or been appointed to a post of honor cannot decide any thing. It's not legal evidence. Are there not plenty of instances of the recorders having neglected their duties, by allowing the number of noblemen to increase in the said illegal manner, to the no slight detriment and prejudice of the tax-paying population?"

The notary found it impossible to repress the feelings of scorn which the recorder's last words called forth. "Ay, ay, sir," said he, "you are indeed a generous man. What a blessing to the tax-payers if they could always have you for an advocate!"

"Don't stand losing your time!" cried Shoskuty; "tell them to go on with the ballot, and let Mr. Tengelyi send for his documents."

"I insist on giving my vote," said Tengelyi. "A nobleman cannot lose his rights on the ground of an information; and pending the proceedings I have a right to my present position."

"Mr. Tengelyi is right," said a young solicitor; "the act of – "

"De 21 Julii 1785?" added the recorder, shaking his head. "The said bill enacts that while the inquiry on the nobility cujuscunque is pending, the defendant is to remain in his former position."

"Which means in the fourth estate, which is the notary's case until he procures his documents," suggested Slatzanek.

"I have always passed for a nobleman – have I not?" said Tengelyi, turning round upon Mr. Catspaw. "You ought to know, for you have known me these thirty years."

"All I can say," said the little attorney, rubbing his hands, "is that my worshipful master, the sheriff, has always treated Mr. Tengelyi as he would a nobleman; but then all the world knows that my master is a most charitable gentleman, though indeed he gets no thanks for his goodness. I never saw Mr. Tengelyi's documents. His patent is not registered. To tell you the truth, he came from some distant place; and there are cases in which – "

"Knock him down! kick him out!" roared the crowd; and Karvay, whose voice was most conspicuous in the general confusion, advanced and seized Tengelyi.

"Come on, any man who is tired of his life!" cried Kalman, taking his stand in front of the old man. "Tengelyi is my friend; and whoever touches him is a dead man, even if he had as many lives as a cat!"

The gallant Captain Karvay retreated almost as quickly as he had advanced. Kishlaky hastened to his son's side, and reminded him of his alliance with the Rety party. Baron Shoskuty spoke with great energy about the sanctity of the place; and the recorder was heard to pronounce the ominous word "Actio."

But Kalman was not the man to be either cajoled or intimidated; and old Kishlaky himself would have been at a loss to say whether he wept tears of joy or of sorrow when his generous son exclaimed:

"What alliances? what do I care for engagements? they are nothing to the duty which I owe to every honest man and to myself! I cannot, and I will not, allow anybody to be treated with injustice, if I can help it!"

"But, domine spectabilis, I must humbly implore you to consider that this is the council-house!" groaned Shaskay.

"Thank you for reminding me of it I!" roared Kalman. "This house – yes! it was built for the maintenance of public order and safety, and it is here that honest men are in danger of being knocked down. Men come here to seek justice, but, confound you all! they don't find it. We look for judges and find cudgels. God knows, to look at you all, one would fancy that this place is a robbers' den!"

"D – n him, he abuses us!" cried a leader of the Cortes. "He attacks the nobility. Actio! Actio!" And the crowd roared, "Actio! Actio!"

"Actio? Very well, you worshipful gentlemen!" sneered Kalman; "make it an action if you please, and put it on record that it is enough in the county of Takshony for such a fellow" – here he pointed at Mr. Skinner – "to calumniate an honest man, to rob the latter of all his rights." And flinging his ring on the table, he took Tengelyi's arm.

"Come along, dear sir. I myself will drive you to Tissaret. I promise you I will bring you back before the day is over."

The noble mob groaned, and Slatzanek said to Kishlaki, "If Mr. Kalman is not elected, you will not accuse us, I am sure." Old Kishlaki sighed.

CHAP. XI

The notary's house was now indeed the abode of care and sorrow. Young Rety's wound was not dangerous, for only his arm was hurt; and at his own entreaty, and with Vandory's consent, he had that very night been removed to the Castle: but the theft, Vilma's state of excitement and despondency, and the consciousness of having disobeyed her husband's orders in receiving Akosh in her house, – all this plunged Mrs. Ershebet into the lowest depth of misery and remorse. The whole place was in confusion. Vilma had gone to bed; and the servants ran to and fro, scared and gossiping. Mother Liptaka was scarcely able to reply to and send away the crowd of curious inquirers who entered the house, thus adding to its confused and cheerless aspect. Vandory was the only friend the family had; and it was owing to his gentle persuasion that Vilma became gradually calmer, and that even Mrs. Ershebet mustered up some courage against her husband's return. Vandory had been sent for immediately after the accident, and he had not left the house since. He examined the safe, and ascertained the loss of his own papers and of most of Tengelyi's. He knew, therefore, the extent of his loss; but his pious confidence, and his firm conviction that God will not abandon the righteous, imparted itself to those who surrounded him, and shielded poor Ershebet from despair.

"She is asleep," said she, entering the room in which Vandory sat; "the poor girl is asleep. Oh, God! what will Jonas say when he sees her looking so pale! When he left us she was fresh and blooming; and now – "

"Vilma will be all right before Tengelyi comes home. Akosh has given orders that none of the people of the house are to go to Dustbury; you need not expect your husband until the election is over."

"Oh, I am miserable! I am ruined!"

"Now pray be calm, my dear Mrs. Ershebet," said Vandory, taking her hands. "Rety's wound is not dangerous; and the loss of the papers is not so serious a matter as you seem to think. They will be restored."

"Perhaps; but my husband's confidence – will that, too, be restored? I have lost his love, his respect – in short, I am ruined! How often did he not intreat me, 'Pray do not allow Akosh to come to our house! Do not allow him to speak to Vilma, – the girl's peace of mind and her honour are at stake!' And I promised to – but I did not obey!"

"It is a sad case; but I know Tengelyi is kind; he will pardon you: I know he will. And do not be concerned about your daughter's reputation. Vilma and Akosh are betrothed. Who knows but that his wound will be of use to him? for neither the Retys nor Jonas can oppose the marriage after this."

"Oh, these Retys!" sobbed Mrs. Ershebet.

"These Retys! dearest Mrs. Ershebet. I am afraid you take them to be worse than they really are. Rety is weak, but good and kind; and his wife – can there be any woman who would not, after such an event, urge her son to act the part of an honest man?"

"And to consider," said Mrs. Ershebet, "that it is Viola who did all this to us, and that we took pity on his wife and children when no one else would pity them!"

"I have my doubts whether it was Viola."

"There can be no doubt. When the Jew recovered, he told us that, passing our house on his way to his home, he saw our gate open; and, knowing that my husband was at Dustbury, he thought that something must be wrong; he entered for the purpose of inquiring whether my husband had come back. At that very moment Viola left the room with his booty; and, meeting the Jew, he knocked him down. The smith, who went in pursuit of the robber, tells me the man whom he saw was Tzifra, one of Viola's men: and the Liptaka, too, has confessed that Viola was in the village, and even in her house. – There can be no doubt. – Besides, you may ask the Jew, who is still suffering from Viola's violence."

"The Jew is a liar!" said a female voice in the room. Mrs. Ershebet and Vandory turned round, and saw Viola's wife, Susi, who had entered during the latter part of their conversation. "Ay," continued Susi, "it is I who say it. Viola did not steal in this house; he'd never do it, though he were to live for a hundred years!"

"Thank God that it is so!" said Vandory, who was loth to lose his faith in his fellow-creatures. He was happy to see the effect which Susi's words produced on Mrs. Ershebet.

"Trust me, so it is!" cried Susi. "Viola is a poor, ruined man, driven from house and home, hunted from place to place like a wild beast; but I know that he has not done this. Cut him to pieces! – tear his heart out! – you will never find him ungrateful!"

"You are right, Susi," said Mrs. Ershebet; "you are right in taking your husband's part, for you have vowed to be his own for better and for worse; and I, too, wish I could believe you; but it is in vain. Everything is against him; and – I do not mean to hurt you, my good woman; but you know your husband is a robber."

The words were repented almost as soon as spoken. Vandory said something to calm the poor woman's mind; but Susi advanced, and, leaning her arms on the table, stood with a flushed and frowning face. "Yes," said she, "Viola is a robber; you are right: I am a robber's wife. They know it in the village; they know it in the county. A reward has been offered for his capture. The very children in the streets know it. But when the Day of Judgment comes, and when God appears visibly to our eyes, with His Son at His right hand, and all the angels round him, and when He judges our crimes, do you think He will call Viola to account for being a robber? No, He will not. He will enter into judgment with those who forced him to be a robber – with those who punished him before he was guilty. God is just. He cares not who is rich and who is poor. He looks into our heart; and I know that Viola is pure before his God!"

The Liptaka, who entered in that moment, overheard Susi's last words. "You are right, my child," said she: "trust in God, who will not abandon you."

"Oh, you bid me trust in God!" said Susi, gloomily. "You've told me that at least a hundred times, and, indeed, what would poor people come to, if they did not trust in God? But when I think of our misfortunes, and when I see that we are suspected by everybody, and that the honestest people – such as the curate and Mrs. Tengelyi – believe that my husband would injure his greatest benefactors, why then, you see, my good angel leaves me, and there is a voice that whispers in my ear that there is no God for the poor!"

"Fye, Susi!" said the Liptaka. "It is written that 'it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.' The poor, of all men, ought not to doubt God's goodness, for His Son chose His disciples from among our number. And suppose Mrs. Tengelyi said bitter things, you ought to consider that she did all she could for you. The best of us are unjust when we suffer; even my own husband – may God give him eternal rest! – suspected Peti, the gipsy, when they stole our cow. Bear your cross humbly with your Saviour."

"Aye, but He was the Son of God! and I am but a sinful child; and besides, can you, can anybody know what I have suffered? I was a poor orphan. My father and mother died when I was a child, and if you had not taken me to your house, I'd have perished, as many children do who have no mother to take care of them. But you, God bless you! brought me up, and there wasn't a merrier girl in the village than I was. O, though my sweet mother died when I was born, yet you loved me as much as she would have done, I'm sure!"

Vandory and Ershebet were silent; the eyes of the Liptaka filled with tears.

"Yes, I was a merry girl!" said Susi. "I didn't think I could be happier, and I thanked God for my happiness. But this was not all. It is since I knew Viola that I know what it is to have a heaven on earth. At first I did not think that a man such as he could love me. Viola was wealthy. He had inherited a fine farm from his father. Next to the notary's, his house was the finest in the village; he had splendid cattle, – how then could I, poor orphan, expect him to love me? When I was reaping the harvest in the field, and he stopped by my side, with his four beasts, and helped me to tie up the corn, – or at the Theiss, when he filled my pails, – or at weddings, when he brought me bunches of rosemary, I said to myself, 'Viola is good, ay, very good and kind;' but I never thought that he would marry me, and I prayed that such proud thoughts might be kept out of my mind. But when he called at Christmas, and asked me whether I loved him, and when I did not reply to that, but looked down, and he took me in his arms and said that he would marry me in the spring, oh! it was then I felt giddy with happiness, and I fancied the angels of heaven must envy my joy!"