villa rubein and other stories-第55章

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was　in　the　street。









II



A　voice　said　in　English；　〃God　bless　you；　brother！〃



Swithin　looked　round；　and　saw　the　tall　Hungarian　holding　out　his

hand。　　He　took　it；　thinking；　'What　a　fool　I've　been！'　　There　was

something　in　the　Hungarian's　gesture　which　said；　〃You　are　worthy　of

me！'



It　was　annoying；　but　rather　impressive。　　The　man　seemed　even　taller

than　before；　there　was　a　cut　on　his　cheek；　the　blood　from　which　was

trickling　down　his　beard。　　〃You　English！〃　he　said。　　〃I　saw　you　stone

HaynauI　saw　you　cheer　Kossuth。　　The　free　blood　of　your　people　cries

out　to　us。〃　　He　looked　at　Swithin。　　〃You　are　a　big　man；　you　have　a

big　souland　strong；　how　you　flung　them　down！　Ha！〃　　Swithin　had　an

impulse　to　take　to　his　heels。　　〃My　name；〃　said　the　Hungarian；　〃is

Boleskey。　　You　are　my　friend。〃　　His　English　was　good。



'Bulsh…kai…ee；　Burlsh…kai…ee；'　thought　Swithin；　'what　a　devil　of　a

name！'　　〃Mine；〃　he　said　sulkily；　〃is　Forsyte。〃



The　Hungarian　repeated　it。



〃You've　had　a　nasty　jab　on　the　cheek；〃　said　Swithin；　the　sight　of　the

matted　beard　was　making　him　feel　sick。　　The　Hungarian　put　his　fingers

to　his　cheek；　brought　them　away　wet；　stared　at　them；　then　with　an

indifferent　air　gathered　a　wisp　of　his　beard　and　crammed　it　against

the　cut。



〃Ugh！〃　said　Swithin。　　〃Here！　Take　my　handkerchief！〃



The　Hungarian　bowed。　　〃Thank　you！〃　he　said；　〃I　couldn't　think　of　it！

Thank　you　a　thousand　times！〃



〃Take　it！〃　growled　Swithin；　it　seemed　to　him　suddenly　of　the　first

importance。　　He　thrust　the　handkerchief　into　the　Hungarian's　hand；

and　felt　a　pain　in　his　arm。　　'There！'　he　thought；　'I've　strained　a

muscle。'



The　Hungarian　kept　muttering；　regardless　of　passers…by；　〃Swine！　How

you　threw　them　over！　　Two　or　three　cracked　heads；　anywaythe

cowardly　swine！〃



〃Look　here！〃　said　Swithin　suddenly；　〃which　is　my　way　to　the　Goldene

Alp？〃



The　Hungarian　replied；　〃But　you　are　coming　with　me；　for　a　glass　of

wine？〃



Swithin　looked　at　the　ground。　　'Not　if　I　know　it！'　he　thought。



〃Ah！〃　said　the　Hungarian　with　dignity；　〃you　do　not　wish　for　my

friendship！〃



'Touchy　beggar！'　thought　Swithin。　　〃Of　course；〃　he　stammered；　〃if　you

put　it　in　that　way〃



The　Hungarian　bowed；　murmuring；　〃Forgive　me！〃



They　had　not　gone　a　dozen　steps　before　a　youth；　with　a　beardless　face

and　hollow　cheeks；　accosted　them。　　〃For　the　love　of　Christ；

gentlemen；〃　he　said；　〃help　me！〃



〃Are　you　a　German？〃　asked　Boleskey。



〃Yes；〃　said　the　youth。



〃Then　you　may　rot！〃



〃Master；　look　here！〃　Tearing　open　his　coat；　the　youth　displayed　his

skin；　and　a　leather　belt　drawn　tight　round　it。　　Again　Swithin　felt

that　desire　to　take　to　his　heels。　　He　was　filled　with　horrid

forebodingsa　sense　of　perpending　intimacy　with　things　such　as　no

gentleman　had　dealings　with。



The　Hungarian　crossed　himself。　　〃Brother；〃　he　said　to　the　youth；

〃come　you　in！〃



Swithin　looked　at　them　askance；　and　followed。　　By　a　dim　light　they

groped　their　way　up　some　stairs　into　a　large　room；　into　which　the

moon　was　shining　through　a　window　bulging　over　the　street。　　A　lamp

burned　low；　there　was　a　smell　of　spirits　and　tobacco；　with　a　faint；

peculiar　scent；　as　of　rose　leaves。　　In　one　corner　stood　a　czymbal；　in

another　a　great　pile　of　newspapers。　　On　the　wall　hung　some　old…

fashioned　pistols；　and　a　rosary　of　yellow　beads。　　Everything　was

tidily　arranged；　but　dusty。　　Near　an　open　fireplace　was　a　table　with

the　remains　of　a　meal。　　The　ceiling；　floor；　and　walls　were　all　of

dark　wood。　　In　spite　of　the　strange　disharmony；　the　room　had　a　sort

of　refinement。　　The　Hungarian　took　a　bottle　out　of　a　cupboard　and；

filling　some　glasses；　handed　one　to　Swithin。　　Swithin　put　it　gingerly

to　his　nose。　　'You　never　know　your　luck！　Come！'　he　thought；　tilting

it　slowly　into　his　mouth。　　It　was　thick；　too　sweet；　but　of　a　fine

flavour。



〃Brothers！〃　said　the　Hungarian；　refilling；　〃your　healths！〃



The　youth　tossed　off　his　wine。　　And　Swithin　this　time　did　the　same；

he　pitied　this　poor　devil　of　a　youth　now。　　〃Come　round　to…morrow！〃　he

said；　〃I'll　give　you　a　shirt　or　two。〃　　When　the　youth　was　gone；

however；　he　remembered　with　relief　that　he　had　not　given　his　address。



'Better　so；'　he　reflected。　　'A　humbug；　no　doubt。'



〃What　was　that　you　said　to　him？〃　he　asked　of　the　Hungarian。



〃I　said；〃　answered　BoLeskey；　〃'You　have　eaten　and　drunk；　and　now　you

are　my　enemy！'〃



〃Quite　right！〃　said　Swithin；　〃quite　right！　A　beggar　is　every　man's

enemy。〃



〃You　do　not　understand；〃　the　Hungarian　replied　politely。　　〃While　he

was　a　beggarI；　too；　have　had　to　beg〃　（Swithin　thought；　'Good　God！

this　is　awful！'）；　〃but　now　that　he　is　no　longer　hungry；　what　is　he

but　a　German？　　No　Austrian　dog　soils　my　floors！〃



His　nostrils；　as　it　seemed　to　Swithin；　had　distended　in　an　unpleasant

fashion；　and　a　wholly　unnecessary　raucousness　invaded　his　voice。　　〃I

am　an　exileall　of　my　blood　are　exiles。　　Those　Godless　dogs！〃

Swithin　hurriedly　assented。



As　he　spoke；　a　face　peeped　in　at　the　door。



〃Rozsi！〃　said　the　Hungarian。　　A　young　girl　came　in。　　She　was　rather

short；　with　a　deliciously　round　figure　and　a　thick　plait　of　hair。

She　smiled；　and　showed　her　even　teeth；　her　little；　bright；　wide…set

grey　eyes　glanced　from　one　man　to　the　other。　　Her　face　was　round；

too；　high　in　the　cheekbones；　the　colour　of　wild　roses；　with　brows

that　had　a　twist…up　at　the　corners。　　With　a　gesture　of　alarm；　she　put

her　hand　to　her　cheek；　and　called；　〃Margit！〃　　An　older　girl　appeared；

taller；　with　fine　shoulders；　large　eyes；　a　pretty　mouth；　and　what

Swithin　described　to　himself　afterwards　as　a　〃pudding〃　nose。　　Both

girls；　with　little　cooing　sounds；　began　attending　to　their　father's

face。



Swithin　turned　his　back　to　them。　　His　arm　pained　him。



'This　is　what　comes　of　interfering；'　he　thought　sulkily；　'I　might

have　had　my　neck　broken！'　Suddenly　a　soft　palm　was　placed　in　his；　two

eyes；　half…fascinated；　half…shy；　looked　at　him；　then　a　voice　called；

〃Rozsi！〃　the　door　was　slammed；　he　was　alone　again　with　the　Hungarian；

harassed　by　a　sense　of　soft　disturbance。



〃Your　daughter's　name　is　Rosy？〃　he　said；　〃we　have　it　in　Englandfrom

rose；　a　flower。〃



〃Rozsi　（Rozgi）；〃　the　Hungarian　replied；　〃your　English　is　a　hard

tongue；　harder　than　French；　German；　or　Czechish；　harder　than　Russian；

or　RoumanianI　know　no　more。〃



〃What？〃　said　Swithin；　〃six　languages？〃　　Privately　he　thought；　'He

knows　how　to　lie；　anyway。'



〃If　you　lived　in　a　country　like　mine；〃　muttered　the　Hungarian；　〃with

all　men's　hands　against　you！　　A　free　peopledyingbut　not　dead！〃



Swithin　could　not　imagine　what　he　was　talking　of。　　This　man's　face；

with　its　linen　bandage；　gloomy　eyes；　and　great　black　wisps　of　beard；

his　fierce　mutterings；　and　hollow　cough；　were　all　most　unpleasant。

He　seemed　to　be　suffering　from　some　kind　of　mental　dog…bite。　　His

emotion　indeed　appeared　so　indecent；　so　uncontrolled　and　open；　that

its　obvious　sincerity　produced　a　sort　of　awe　in　Swithin。　　It　was　like

being　forced　to　look　into　a　furnace。　　Boleskey　stopped　roaming　up　and

down。　　〃You　think　it's　over？〃　he　said；　〃I　tell　you；　in　the　breast　of

each　one　of　us　Magyars　there　is　a　hell。　　What　is　sweeter　than　life？

What　is　more　sacred　than　each　breath　we　draw？　　Ah！　my　country！〃

These　words　were　uttered　so　slowly；　with　such　intense　mournfulness；

that　Swithin's　jaw　relaxed；　he　converted　the　movement　to　a　yawn。



〃Tell　me；〃　said　Boleskey；　〃what　would　you　do　if　the　French　conquered

you？〃



Swithin　smiled。　　Then　suddenly；　as　though　something　had　hurt　him；　he

grunted；　〃The　'Froggies'？　　Let　'em　try！〃



〃Drink！〃　said　Boleskey〃there　is　nothing　like　it〃；　he　filled

Swithin's　glass。　　〃I　will　tell　you　my　story。〃



Swithin　rose　hurriedly。　　〃It's　late；〃　he　said。　　〃This　is　good　stuff；

though；　have　you　much　of　it？〃



〃It　is　the　last　bottle。〃



〃What？〃　said　Swithin；　〃and　you　gave　it　to　a　beggar？〃



〃My　name　is　BoleskeyStefan；〃