THE ROAD THROUGH THE WINTER WOODS
There was a long silence after this. I changed my position on the box against the wall and thought possibly that I must have dozed for a few minutes and missed part of the story, but was not sure of it. I looked up on the stairway, but apparently my ghost was not there. Evidently he had faded with the first gray morning light that was now stealing into the tower, and had taken his long lingering thirst down below to his phantom flagon of musty wine.
I waited for some time, but remembering what he had said about a possible sudden disappearance, I concluded that it was useless to remain longer.
I arrived at the farm house just in time for breakfast, and, immediately afterward I began this tale of what I had seen and heard in the tower, while the facts were still fresh in my mind.
Up to that memorable Christmas eve I was entirely unfamiliar with Hungarian history, and did not know whether anybody by the name of Emric Szapolyia had ever lived or not. Naturally I was very curious on the subject and anxious to convince myself that I had not been dreaming in the tower.
I obtained a copy of Godkin’s “History of Hungary and the Magyars,” and succeeded in locating my ghostly friend in a chapter devoted to the career of King Mathias Corvinus, who reigned between 1457 and 1480. The account given of him coincided with what he had told me as far as it went. While he was referred to as a general and duke, it did not mention his tower, or the fact that he had ever been a “robber baron,” but the omission of such trifling details in a brief summary of his period was to be expected. He was mentioned as “an able and experienced officer, never at a loss for an expedient in the midst of the most unpromising circumstances, always cool and collected.”
His friend Paul Kinisi was alluded to as “the Murat of the Magyar army—fiery, brilliant, ostentatious, galloping to the charge with flashing sabre and in splendid costume.” I also found confirmation of Kinisi’s exploit with the three Turks, related by the ghost. As the historical allusions in his narrative corresponded with such authentic fragments as I was able to find concerning him and his friend Kinisi, I assumed that the rest of his story was equally reliable. While I was unable to verify all of his statements, any doubts as to the reality of the interview were dissipated.
I carefully searched such piratical lore as I had access to and found that there was nothing in the tale in the tower that was inconsistent with recorded facts relating to piracy on the high seas from Szapolyia’s time on earth down to that of the sojourn of the ghostly crew on the Island of Manhattan. In “The Book of Pirates” I found the life stories of nearly all of the sea faring Wizards of Finance with whom he stated that he had associated. There appears to be no record of any of them having been haunted at any time, but the haunter was of course much better qualified to tell of this than some skeptical, and perhaps careless, historian who was not there at the time.
One of our illustrations is from an old photograph of Wall Street and Trinity Church, probably taken some time before the ghost left New York. It is unfortunate that it could not have been made at night and possibly have revealed at least some of the filmy forms of the piratical crew on the sub-treasury steps. It would then be a welcome bit of corroborative evidence in case the specter’s veracity should ever be questioned.
I thought that some of the strictures and comparisons made by my phantom friend were somewhat severe, but I have included them in this chronicle for the sake of accuracy. We all have different points of view, and I suppose, from his standpoint, the elucidation of present day business methods by the shade of the case-hardened Mr. Waters, did make that spectral little band of freebooters feel rather cheap and disgruntled. The contrasts between their times and ours of course shocked them, but they should have remembered that in an age of progress everything must advance, and human villainy would naturally be deeper and greater now than during their periods. I thought that Waters might have been a little more tactful and considerate. He should have revealed the situation in a way that would not have humiliated the gentle little crew in the belfry by making them feel that they had been out classed and, that if they had been alive, they would have been without professional distinction.