Chapter 12. The Ice-Blocked Flood

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_ CHAPTER XII. THE ICE-BLOCKED FLOOD

This night was not for sleep. Idalia went from room to room with the death-wound at her heart. She did not herself know what she was looking for. She stopped before her mirror and gazed at herself for some time. Her deep sorrow, her restless passion, had made her face still more beautiful. The tears shining in her eyes lent a peculiar charm to her features. "You lie. I am not beautiful! I am a demon--the demon that pursues him!" The mirror then said to her, "You are hideous." Now she knew what she must do. She sat down to write a letter.

"To his Lordship, Grazian Likovay.

Honored Lord: If you would know whose lover Father Peter really is, keep watch to-night and when you hear the bells ring at midnight,--those bells that you think are rung by spirits, since they have no cord--then, instead of covering up your head in fear, arise and go with your servants into the ghost-haunted chapel; there you shall learn which one of us has cause to go begging for his lost honor. What I have said, I have said--to-night after midnight. If you take warning, well and good; if not, also good. It matters not to me whether you accept it, or whether you do not. You will repent if you listen to me: you will repent still more if you do not.

I remain, your respectful servant,

The widow of Franz Karponay."

She sealed the letter with her own crest. Meantime, it had been gradually growing light. She sent for the Fool.

"Hirsko," she said, "Can one cross the Waag?"

"Hare and hounds can; but man could hardly do it."

"Why not?"

"Because during the night, the ice began to move, and if it has not caught fast on the island, it must be going right merrily."

"Would you dare cross over with this letter?"

"If I had two heads, and could lose one there and leave the other here, I do not say but that I would undertake it."

"Listen, Hirsko; I'll give you a new suit from head to foot, if you'll take this letter through. If you return, you shall have wine enough for a lifetime."

"And if I go to the bottom, I shall have water enough for a lifetime."

"Just try it. It's not so very dangerous. See this purse, it's full of money; that too is yours, if you succeed."

The Fool shook his big head. He was not ready to accept her proposition that he should "just try it, for he could float like a pumpkin."

"Now listen, Hirsko; I know that you have always been in love with me. If you carry this letter over and come back, I'll be your wife."

At this the Fool gave a bound, and then began tugging with both hands at his shoe strings.

"Tira li! You're not joking, just give me a kiss."

Idalia offered her lips to the monster. He hurried out of the room with the letter, down to the Waag, striding along with a six-foot pole. Idalia stationed herself at the balcony window and watched her messenger. The ice had already begun to move on the Waag; single fields of it floated down the centre of the stream, and giant cakes were heaped one above another; only a Fool would undertake such a task. The messenger's figure disappeared at times behind the barricades and then reappeared: now and then, he broke in, and worked his way out again with his pole. After an hour's struggle in the very face of Providence, he reached the other shore.

"He's well over," said Idalia, and left the window. For Hirsko it was hardly well; for Lord Grazian, when he had read the letter, in his first outburst of anger, had him bound and scourged to the full value of a woman's kiss. But the arrow had not missed its mark; it clung fast by the barb to his heart.--

Now Idalia can go to breakfast. Father Peter was already there; his face showed no change.

"I did not find the boy in his bed this morning," he said good-naturedly.

"No, naturally not," she said, with a suppressed laugh. "After you had laid him down, put him to sleep, and closed the door between the two rooms, he awoke, and becoming frightened to find himself alone, ran to me, and he is asleep still."

Father Peter made an effort to appear calm. The lady continued pertly: "Shall I guess why you closed the door between the two rooms? You found in your room a new suit of clothes, and did not wish the child to see you try them on."

There was a whirring sound in Father Peter's head. It was dangerous to say that he had not done so, for perhaps the lady would send for the garments and see that there were traces of mud on the boots. He had to answer the question with a smile. "Yes, you are right."

"Well, how do they fit?"

"That's for another to say."

"And when shall she say it?"

"When I answer your late questions."

"And when shall I get that answer?"

"To-morrow."

The lady clapped her hands with a laugh. "Ha, ha! To-morrow. So you won't keep me waiting a week. Not until next Sunday? To-morrow I shall learn whether you are Father Peter or Tihamer Csorbai! To-morrow, even to-morrow!"

And with that she jumped up and danced the cushion dance, singing enchantingly as she danced. Then she threw the cap from her head at the feet of the man, and knelt on her cap, as on a cushion.

If Tihamer Csorbai had entered into the joke and set free with a kiss the woman on her knees before him, then would she have plunged a poisoned dagger into his heart, and the other woman, at least, would have been saved. But nothing of the kind entered into the knight's thoughts. The woman rose without a kiss, and danced and danced, until she danced herself out of the room. No expression on her face betrayed what was raging in her soul. She went to her room to waken her boy. She was tenderness itself. Young Cupid complained of the frightful dreams he had had in the night. He saw first Father Peter and then his mother push Saint Nepomeck aside and follow each other down to hell.

"You little goose, you ate too much plum-cake last evening."

"But I did not dream this, I saw it with my own eyes. I was in Father Peter's room."

"Oh, you darling, you were with me all night long. I could not cover you up often enough, you kicked about so."

"Where's my little silver whistle?"

"Your little silver whistle! Dear soul, you left that in the land of dreams."

"I am still cold. I am all of a tremble."

"You are feverish, sweetheart; stay in bed to-day, and I'll bring your playthings to you, and make you a nice tea that will make you well again." _

Read next: Chapter 13. In The Ghost's Hour

Read previous: Chapter 11. Underground

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