A Hungarian Nabob | Page 3

anywhere in such dripping weather.
While Mr. Peter Bús was calmly sleeping the sleep of the just, danger
was approaching the house from the other, the further side. In the
direction of Nyiregyháza there was no dike indeed, and the water was
free to go up and down wherever it chose. A stranger venturing that
way might just as well make his will at once, but those who knew the
lie of the land, could get along more easily than if there had been a
regular road; indeed, there were coachmen who had loafed about the
district so long and learnt to know all its boggy and hilly turnings and
windings so thoroughly, that they could make their way across it late at
night in any sort of vehicle.
It must have been close upon midnight, for the cocks of the
"Break-'em-tear-'em" csárda had begun to crow one after the other,
when a light began to twinkle in the twilight. Twelve mounted men
were approaching with burning torches, with a carriage and a waggon
in their midst.
The waggon went in front, the carriage behind, so that if a ditch
presented itself unexpectedly the waggon might tumble into it, and the
carriage might take warning and avoid the spot.
The bearers of the torches were all heydukes wearing a peculiar
uniform. On their heads were tschako-shaped kalpags with white
horse-hair plumes, on their bodies were scarlet dolmans with yellow
facings, over which fox-skin kaczagánys were cast as a protection

against the pouring rain. At every saddle hung a fokos and a couple of
pistols. Their gunyás only reached to the girdle, and below that
followed short, fringed, linen hose which did not go at all well with the
scarlet cloth of the dolmans.
And now the waggon comes in sight. Four good boorish horses were
attached to it, whose manes almost swam in the water; the reins were
handled by an old coachman with the figure of a betyár. The worthy
fellow was sleeping, for, after all, the horses knew the way well, and he
only awoke at such times as his hands closed upon the reins, when he
would give a great snort and look angrily around him.
The interior of the waggon presented a somewhat comical sight, for
though the back seat did not appear to be occupied, in the front seat two
ambiguous looking individuals were sitting with their backs to the
coachman. Who or what they were it was difficult to make out, for they
had wrapped themselves up so completely in their shaggy woollen
mantles, or gubas, and drawn their hoods so low down over their heads,
that they had no resemblance to anything human. Moreover, they were
sleeping soundly. Both their heads were jig-jogging right and left, and
only now and then one or the other, and sometimes both at the same
time, would be thrown backwards by the jolting of the waggon, or they
would bump their heads together, and at such times would sit bolt
upright as if determined to say, "Now, I really am not asleep!" and the
next instant off they were nodding again.
The body of the waggon was fenced about with large baskets, whose
rotundity warranted the suspicion that they must be stuffed with plenty
of all sorts. The basket on the back seat moved slightly now and then,
and, therefore, might fairly have been assumed to contain some living
creature, which the two gentlemen held in high honour or they would
not have given up the best seat to it. Presently a more violent
concussion than usual tilted the basket over, when, after a desperate
struggle, the mysterious something poked out its head, and revealed to
the world a beautiful greyhound. So it was to him that precedence
belonged! And this he seemed to be quite conscious of, for he sat up on
his haunches in the waggon, gaped majestically for a moment, then

condescended to scratch his aristocratic ears with his long legs, shook
his steel-chain collar, and when an impertinent nocturnal gadfly
attempted to cultivate his acquaintance by force, plunged into a
determined contest with it, and snapped at it vigorously with his teeth.
Tiring at last of this diversion, he turned his attention to his sleeping
companions, and being in a condescending humour, and observing that
the lankiest of the two sleepers was nodding at him, the humorous
greyhound raised his front paw and passed it over the face of the
slumberer, who thereupon murmured heavily, "Pah! don't taste it, your
honour!"
And now let us have a look at the carriage. Five full-blooded stallions
were harnessed to it, and all of them were tossing their gaily decked
heads proudly. Two of them were beside the shafts and three in front,
and each of the three