The Village Notary: A Romance of Hungarian Life

"Shocking! shocking!" sighed Baron Shoskuty, with an appealing look to heaven; "the robber is in our hands; our honourable friend Mr. Skinner has covered himself with glory, and risked his life, in capturing him; he indicts him before a court-martial, and we—we discharge the fellow! Nobody ever heard of such a thing!"

"I, for one," cried Mr. Skinner, "won't allow you to make a fool of me! What the devil! is a man to risk his life for nothing? You won't catch me again at this kind of thing, I assure you!"

"Not hang the rascal?" roared Zatonyi. "I've attended scores of courts-martial, but I never heard of any thing like it. It's prostituting justice! it's protecting crime! it's – "

"Of course; so it is," said Baron Shoskuty; "it's putting a premium on robbery! it's a deleterious example!"

"Public safety will go to the dogs!" howled Mr. Skinner; and they all spoke at once: "Scandalous! – infamous! – new doctrines! —fautores criminum!– disgrace!" such were the words which predominated in this Babel of angry voices, until Mr. Völgyeshy at length silenced them. He protested what he wanted was not the liberation of the prisoner, but the transmission of the prosecution to the ordinary court.

"Of course!" sneered Mr. Zatonyi; "are we not aware of the practice of the court? I know of three cases, – I was not present, for if I had been I would not have allowed it; but I know of three cases in which the prisoners were sent to the courts; and what was the consequence? Why, one of them was sentenced to three months', and the second to a year's imprisonment; as for the third, they let him off altogether, though I'd bet you any thing the fellow was a robber. Don't you think, sir, we are so green as all that! The county has the right of court-martial for the purpose of using it; and use it we will!"

"I do not think that the courts-martial were granted under the express condition that a few people should be hanged every year," said Völgyeshy.

"It appears," said Mr. Catspaw, "that the liberation of the prisoner, or, at least, his prosecution in a common court, has been proposed for the purpose of favouring the Lady Rety and me. But I feel myself authorised to protest, in Lady Rety's name, that neither she nor I can consent to the court allowing themselves to be influenced by any private feelings in our favour, however flattering those feelings may be to her ladyship."

"Mr. Catspaw, sir, you are a gentleman!" said Baron Shoskuty; and the question was at once put, whether the prisoner's first depositions should be authenticated, or whether it was advisable to make out a new relation of the facts, and to adjourn the sentence to the following day. Kishlaki advocated the second alternative; but he was overruled by the court, and nothing was left to Völgyeshy but to declare that he would not and could not obey the instructions of the court. Kishlaki was greatly shocked by this declaration; Zatonyi swore; the Baron rose, and shaking his most honourable friend's hand, he entreated him to pardon them if their resolution was offensive to him.

"Consider the homo sum, amice! consider the nihil humanum! – we all pay unbounded respect to your principles and talents, but to the majority you ought to submit. Consider that every body does so, and I am sure you will see – "

But Völgyeshy protested that he could not, in the present case, join the decision of the majority, though he acknowledged he had no legal remedy against them. That was the reason why he wished to withdraw. His firmness, or (as Shoskuty called it) obstinacy, threw the court into hopeless confusion, and there is no saying what they would not have done, if Mr. Catspaw had not volunteered to discharge the functions of a notary.

"Sir, your offer is accepted, gratefully accepted, I say," cried Zatonyi. "Mr. Völgyeshy, who has just entered the service, will in time find out that a man is none the worse for doing his duty according to the decision of a majority. Leave him alone with his principles! he'll soon get tired of them, I'll warrant you!"

"Mr. Völgyeshy," said the attorney, with a sneer, "has brought the matter to this point for the purpose of saving the prisoner's life, – a noble and generous feeling, gentlemen, especially in this time of general philanthropy, – quite a romantic feeling, I assure you, gentlemen. But we, who are older, and, let me say so, tougher, cannot imitate his example, though I trust the noble young man gives me credit for appreciating his motives. As I told you, I am ready to officiate in his place; but I think Mr. Völgyeshy, seeing that his refusal to act has no effect upon us, will not persist in his refusal. Am I right, my generous young friend?"

But the generous young friend rose, and pushing his batch of papers to Mr. Catspaw, he declared that nothing could induce him to take a part in the proceedings, which he went to the length of designating as an act of judicial tyranny.

This bold declaration called forth a fresh torrent of abuse.

"Disgraceful!" cried Mr. Skinner.

"It's infamous!" said Zatonyi.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir!" snarled Mr. Catspaw.

"Gentlemen," said Völgyeshy, when their frantic rage had in a manner subsided, "I meant no offence to any of you. Allow me to explain what I said."

"Explain? What the devil do you mean to explain, sir?" cried Zatonyi. "Do you mean to say, sir, that we are murderers? Are you aware that you have no vote? To insult the judges is an infamous act; d – n you, sir, you're infamous, sir!"

"Yes!" said the Baron; "let us pass a resolution to that effect."

"Do you mean to do it by court-martial?" asked Völgyeshy, with a scornful smile.

"Yes, sir! In any way, sir! I'm sure I don't care. Whoever insults the judges or the court is infamous! That's written law, sir! it's in the corpus juris. And you'll find it law, sir, and to your cost, sir!"

"It is ad horribilationem!" groaned Zatonyi.

"You may, if you please, pass a resolution of infamy against me," said Völgyeshy; "but permit me, not indeed for the sake of those who care for nothing except the execution of the prisoner, but out of love and respect for your president – "

"Captatio benevolentiæ!" cried Zatonyi. "Our respected president wants no flatteries from the like of you!"

" – direct the attention of the court – "

"The attention of the court wants no direction whatever," said the Baron.

" – to the heavy responsibility which rests with every one of you, if the present proceedings are brought to a fatal end."

"What, the devil! are the judges to be made responsible? I never in all my life – "

"Halljuk! halljuk!" said Kishlaki, who listened with great eagerness.

Völgyeshy took the articles, and pointed out to the court that their safety consisted in the strict legality of their proceedings, and that the present case did not come within their jurisdiction.

"Crassa ignorantia!" said Zatonyi, contemptuously, "as is but too common among the young gentlemen of the present day. Viola's case is a court-martial case with a vengeance!"

"But the details – "

"Crassa ignorantia!" cried the assessor, raising his voice. "Did he not resist the capture? Did he steal Tengelyi's papers because they were eatables? which, I admit, would constitute an extenuating circumstance; or is he under age, or a lunatic? Or is the gang to which he belongs indicted before any court at law?"

Völgyeshy remarked, that the case was so intricate that it would take the court at least three days to sift it.

"Three days, indeed! I'd do away with twenty of these rascals in much less time than that!"

"It seems you have forgotten what the prisoner said concerning certain accusations – "

"Which have nothing whatever to do with the question at issue," cried Baron Shoskuty; "there's no mention of them in the minutes. I mean to forget them."

"Sir!"

"Baron Shoskuty is right," said the assessor; "the prisoner's nonsensical talk has nothing in common with the species facti– it's no use mentioning it."

"But what is to become of the completeness of the record?" cried Völgyeshy, angrily.

"It's a stupid formality. See chapter 6. paragraph 5. of the articles, where it is provided that the court is at liberty to dispense with the forms of the courts at law."

"Yes, we can do as we please, and in the very teeth of all manners of forms, too," said the Baron.

"Of course you can hang the prisoner!" shouted Völgyeshy; "but I protest that what you do is an act of violence, not of justice!"

"Hold your tongue, sir! – "

"The members of this court have no right to sit in it! – I appeal to the articles!"

"Outrageous!" cried Zatonyi, rising from his chair; "what! are we not assessors? – have we not taken our oaths? – are we not – ?"

"Are we not lawyers of unblemished character? – men of firmness and impartiality?" continued the Baron.

"Turn him out!" roared Mr. Skinner.

"Actio! Actio!" gasped Baron Shoskuty in his turn.

"I protest you are not impartial!" said Völgyeshy.

"Bliktri!" snarled Zatonyi; "what have the articles to do with impartiality?"

"Very true! but suppose impartiality were required," said Shoskuty, violently, "suppose it were required, what then? Are we not strictly impartial? Which of us has said a single word in favour of the prisoner, unless it be you? but, goodness be thanked! you've no vote, sir!"

"I am curious to know how you would manage to prove our want of impartiality?" said Mr. Catspaw.

"I'll satisfy your curiosity, sir," said the young lawyer. "As for you, you are accused, and it is evidently your interest to do away with the accusation and the accuser. Of Mr. Skinner's want of impartiality there can be no question. What shall we say of a judge who degrades his office to the level of the hangman?"

"Meanness! Impertinence! Turn him out! Actio!" screamed the judges.

"No! You are not impartial! You are thirsting for the prisoner's blood! You want his life to shield your own misdeeds! There is vendetta between you and the prisoner! But I will not suffer it! I will publish the proceedings! I will complain to the lord-lieutenant! I will – "

"Base informer! are you aware of the laws of 1805? Turn him out!" roared the court; and Völgyeshy, finding that nothing could persuade them, turned to leave the room, when Mr. Skinner rose and seized him by the arm.

"Be off, you miscreant!" roared the valorous judge.

Völgyeshy pushed him back, and taking his hat, he bowed to the president, and withdrew.

The uproar in the justice-room attracted the attention of the people outside in no slight degree. The conversation of the haiduks, Pandurs, witnesses, and servants gradually ceased, and every one listened to the noise of angry voices in the justice-room. The Liptaka sat close by the door listening to the dispute, and from time to time she would turn to the smith and inform him that Viola's case was very bad; "for," said she, "if the gentlemen get out of temper with each other, they always manage to make a poor body suffer for it: " a remark to which the smith did not fail to respond with deep sighs.

Viola alone paid no attention to the quarrels of his judges. Surrounded by a troop of armed men, he leaned against one of the wooden pillars of the hall, looking towards the gate where his wife and children stood. All the robber's thoughts were of them. When the door opened, and Völgyeshy entered the hall, Viola turned round, for he thought they had sent for him to read his sentence. He longed for it; for the Pandurs had told him that, after hearing it, he would be allowed to speak to his wife. Calling to Völgyeshy, as the latter approached, he said: "Is it over?"

"Not quite," answered the lawyer.

"But why do you leave them?"

"I have no vote. I cannot be of any use to you."

"I thought so," said Viola, with a bitter smile. "God bless you for having given yourself all this trouble for the sake of a poor man; but, if you will show me pity, tell them to allow my wife to come to me. There she stands, by the gate; there she stands, with her children! They've pushed her back: they will not let her speak to me! All I want is to have her with me. You see I am chained and closely watched, and in a few hours I shall be a dead man. What harm can there be in lessening the anguish of my poor, wretched wife!"

Völgyeshy said nothing; but he walked precipitately up to the place where Susi stood, took her by the hand, and led her to Viola's arms. The wretched people did not speak: they wept, and trembled; the little boy took and kissed his father's hand, sore as it was with the weight of the chain: and the large tear-drops rolled over the robber's pale face.

The burst of generous indignation in which the members of the court had for a time indulged was, meanwhile, subsiding. Mr. Catspaw, seated in Völgyeshy's place, arranged that gentleman's papers and notes to his own liking; and though Mr. Skinner still continued to vent his spleen in frequent and indecent exclamations against the young lawyer's impertinence, it was found that none of the other members of the court sympathised with his protracted irascibility. Baron Shoskuty and the assessor Zatonyi talked of their dinner and other important matters. Mr. Kishlaki alone seemed distressed and nervous.

Viola was at length summoned before the court to sign his depositions. When they were read to him, he observed that they contained none of his statements about Tengelyi's papers; but upon Mr. Catspaw informing him that he was merely required to testify to the correctness of those things which were stated, and that the other parts of his confession would be taken down separately, he made no further objections, but signed his name, to the immoderate satisfaction of the cunning attorney.

Nothing was now wanting but the sentence. The assessor yawned fearfully, offered his snuff-box to everybody, and protested that he had never had so troublesome a sitting. Baron Shoskuty consulted his watch (for the twentieth time, at least), and informed the court that it was past three o'clock, and that the want of his dinner had given him a headache: denique, (to use his own words,) "there was no time to be lost." Acting up to this hint, Mr. Catspaw made a short résumé of the facts; and concluded by protesting that there could be no doubt about the sentence of capital punishment. Mr. Skinner said the same. Mr. Zatonyi laughed, and swore that Miss Lydia Languish herself could not find another verdict! – an opinion upon which the Baron commented at great length, for the purpose of finally adopting it. Mr. Kishlaki alone sat silent and anxious, turning to each of the judges with a sigh as each recorded his sentence; until, at length, he pretended to fall into a fit of profound meditation.

"Really," said Baron Shoskuty, at length, producing his watch to add to the strength of his arguments, "I must ask my honourable friend's pardon for disturbing him in his reflections on the enormity of the crime; but really we ought not to abuse Lady Kishlaki's patience."

"You are right," said the president, greatly relieved; "quite right, my dear sir: let us adjourn till to-morrow morning. This confounded execution cannot possibly take place to-day."

"Oh! why should it not?" asked Zatonyi, indignantly. "Did I not tell you that I must go home? My potatoes – "

"We are bound to grant the prisoner at least three hours," said the president; "and it's quite dark at five o'clock. You would not hang him by candlelight, would you?"

"My honourable friend is quite right," cried Shoskuty. "We ought to have a game at tarok after all this trouble. Besides, I owe the gentlemen their revenge for the pagat. But why should we not pass the sentence to-night, and have it executed at an early hour to-morrow morning?"

"Because," said Mr. Kishlaki, nervously, – "because the decision rests with me; and – because – I must own – that I have not yet made up my mind."

"Domine spectabilis!" cried Zatonyi, clasping his hands. "You, at your time of life! You, who have served the county so many years, you have not made up your mind? I've attended a score of courts-martial, and I always made up my mind in less than a second. What would your enemies say, if they knew it?"

Mr. Skinner, too, expressed his scorn of such weakness of mind in the strongest terms; still Kishlaki would not be persuaded either to absolve or to condemn the prisoner. He entreated his friends to wait till the morrow. But his request was obstinately opposed by Mr. Catspaw, who knew the man he had to deal with, and who was aware that Kishlaki would not be able to resist the entreaties of his wife and son, and the reasonings of Völgyeshy, if he was allowed to appear in their presence before he had recorded his decision.

"I am sure," pleaded the attorney, "it cannot matter to us whether you deliver your judgment to-day or to-morrow; but my wish is, that there should be an end to the business. I wish it for the prisoner's sake. After the sentence he will be at liberty to talk to his wife, to prepare for death, and to make any arrangements he has to make. But if it is really inconvenient, of course we cannot pretend that the prisoner's wishes should be consulted in preference to yours."

Zatonyi, seeing the effect which these words had upon Kishlaki, remarked that Viola was indeed a great criminal, whose agony ought in strict justice to be prolonged ad infinitum; but that some consideration was due to humanity, for he could not, he said, believe that any man in his senses could for a moment doubt of the nature of the sentence, which his honourable friend wished to delay. To this Mr. Catspaw replied, that their worthy president could not have any such intention, and that he (Mr. Catspaw) would never have dared to insinuate any such thing; but that no one could be more fully aware than he (Mr. Catspaw) was, of the solemn duty by which every judge was bound to disregard his own feelings and passions; and that he (Mr. Catspaw) was convinced that his worthy friend, Mr. Kishlaki, would eventually prove himself deserving of the confidence of the county. And Baron Shoskuty gave them a homily on the beauty of humane feelings, which, he said, imperatively demanded that Viola should be sentenced off hand. And it was said, that it was necessary to make an example, and that kindness to the wicked is cruelty to the good. And Mr. Skinner told fearful tales of the enormities of which Viola and his comrades had been guilty, and would be guilty, unless a wholesome fear of courts-martial were propagated among the people; till the poor old man, attacked on all sides, and unable to make head against a torrent of arguments, which he had always been taught to consider as irrefutable, was at length reduced to submission to the will of his more crafty colleagues. With a deep sigh, he confirmed their verdict.

"God sees my heart," said he, raising his eyes to heaven. "I know not what I would give to spare the life of this man! but I cannot violate my duty."

Mr. Catspaw commenced at once to draw up the sentence, while his friends strove hard to dispel the gloom which settled on Kishlaki's face; when the door was suddenly thrown open, and Susi, with a child in her arms, rushed into the room, followed by two haiduks, who vainly strove to detain her.

"Pity!" cried the wretched woman, throwing herself at Kishlaki's feet. "Pity, sir! oh sir, don't kill my husband!"

Kishlaki would have raised her, but she resisted.

"No! no!" sobbed she; "let us kneel! let my child kneel! Come Pishta, come, kiss this gentleman's hands! it is he who has to judge of your father's life! Entreat him! pray to him, Pishta!"

"I pray, sir, do not kill my father!" sobbed the little boy.

"Did I ever – what impertinence!" cried Mr. Skinner. "This worshipful court does not kill anybody!"

"No, God forbid!" said the poor woman; "do not mind the child's asking you not to kill his father. He does not know what he says. He is the son of a poor peasant; he has no education. I know I too talk wildly, but – "

"My good woman," said Kishlaki, "my duties as a judge are painful, but imperative and – "

"Oh, I do not ask the court to absolve him from all punishment. No! I do not mean to say that. Punish him severely, cruelly, no matter how, only don't kill him! – Oh! pardon me for saying the word. Oh, pardon me! Send Viola to gaol for many years, for ever, if it must be so; but do spare his life! Perhaps he has told you that he cares not for death – he is fond of talking in this way – but don't believe what he said! When he said it, he had not seen his children; but now he has kissed little Pishta, I am sure he will not say so; and the baby too smiled at him as he stood in his chains. Oh! if you could but see the baby, and if you could hear it calling its father with its small sweet voice, you'd never believe Viola when he says he wishes to die!"

"D – n your squeaking!" growled Mr. Skinner, "and d – n the blockhead that let her come in! Be off, I say! Your husband's a dead man; if he's afraid of death, why so much the better!"

"Did I say he was afraid of death?" sighed poor Susi. "I told you a lie! Viola longs for death! Death is no punishment for him! If you want to punish him, you must lock him up! He's often told me he would rather die than live in a prison!"

Kishlaki looked at her with streaming eyes. Shoskuty produced his watch.

"Oh! sir, I know you will send him to prison! What is death to him? It's but the pain of a moment; but we are the sufferers. I have two children – this boy and the other child, which the Liptaka has in her arms – the Liptaka, I mean the old woman at the door; and what am I to do if their father is hanged?"

Zatonyi remarked, very judiciously, that it made no difference to the children whether their father was hanged or sent to prison for life.

"Oh! but it does, sir. It may make no difference to your worships, but it does to us. I know he will be of good behaviour. I will walk to Vienna, I will crawl on my hands and knees after the king until he pardons my husband; and if he will not pardon him, I shall at least be allowed to see him in prison; I can show him the children, and how they have grown! I can bring him something to eat and to put on – oh! for pity's sake, send him to prison! It's a heaven for me; but death is fearful!"

"Fearful, indeed! It's half-past three!" sighed Shoskuty.

"Now do be quiet," said Zatonyi, taking a pinch of snuff. "Besides, it's too late. We've passed the sentence."

"The sentence! The sentence of death!" shrieked Susi.

"It's at your service," sneered Mr. Skinner, pointing to a paper which was just being folded up by Mr. Catspaw.

"But suppose it is bad – it is faulty," muttered the woman. "Suppose I say it's wrong – for death is not a punishment to Viola – it's I that am punished!"

"It's done, and can't be undone," said Zatonyi; "don't bore us with your useless lamentations."

"It wants but a quarter to four," said the Baron. "I wonder whether this scene is to last any longer?"

"But I pray," said Susi, shuddering; "it's but a sheet of paper. If you take another, and write some other words upon it, you can allow Viola to live."

"Oh indeed! Why should we not? Be off, we've had trouble enough on your account! Mr. Catspaw won't write another sentence to please you."

"Not to please me; but because it's a question of life and death."

"My good woman," sighed Kishlaki, wiping his eyes, "we have no power to alter the sentence!"

"No power? No – "

"It is impossible!" said Zatonyi.

The poor woman shrieked and fell on the floor. She was taken away; and the sentence was read to Viola.

As the judges left the room, Shoskuty said to Zatonyi: —

"God be thanked that it is over!"

"God be thanked, indeed! I've never heard of such a court-martial – "

"Denique, if the president is a donkey," remarked Shoskuty.

"Yes; a man who weeps at the mere squeaking of a woman!" said Mr. Skinner, as he joined the two worthies; "unless we all dun him he won't allow the execution to take place."

"It's four o'clock now, and I'll bet you any thing the dinner is spoilt; and the roast meats used to be excellent!" said the Baron, with a deep sigh.

CHAP. VIII