Mr. Hajek had not been in the village, and knew nothing of the great meeting. He had gone to a mess breakfast at Zablotow, Captain Mihaly, of the Palffy hussars, in garrison there, having invited him over. It was a merry gathering, comprising, besides the officers, several young nobles of the neighbourhood. But none so merry as Hajek himself; and he kept up his spirits when, breakfast over, he was invited to preside at the gaming table. He was winning largely, and was a very fountain of fun to the dissipated party. They went on gambling for the best part of the day.
But there was a strange interruption, the captain's man announcing, with a queer expression, that the under-steward, Boleslaw, had arrived, bearing an important message to the mandatar--a certain peasant named Barabola having that day declared war against the Emperor.
The news produced the greatest hilarity; the officers roared with laughter. But Wenceslas Hajek grew deadly pale, and, dropping the cards from his hands, he jumped from his seat shaking from head to foot. "Gentlemen," he gasped, "you would not laugh if you knew the man ... this is a matter of life and death ... excuse me, I must have particulars...."
He moved to the door, but the captain was before him. "No!" he cried, facetiously, "you shall not monopolise this declaration of war. We are His Majesty's officers, and ought to have our share--let the man enter!"
The under-steward appeared, his gigantic frame positively limp with dismay, as he reported the chief contents of Taras's speech. "You know what sort of man you have to deal with, sir," he said, in conclusion, turning to the mandatar. "This day week he means to make his beginning--make it upon you, sir! He has retired for the present in the direction of the Red Hollow. Four men are with him to-day; there will be fifty before the week is out."
The gentlemen ceased to be amused; somehow the giant's consternation had affected them. But when he had done, their laughter returned. "War!" they cried, "what fun! Double pay and promotion for all of us!" The captain adding: "But he has given us a week's grace, so let us finish our rubber. Mr. Hajek, I think you were meditating a trump ... but, good heavens, man!" he interrupted himself, evidently alarmed, "what is the matter? ... He is fainting!"
And, indeed, the mandatar's appearance was enough to startle his companions. He had sunk down on the nearest chair, the bloodless face distorted with terror; and as they gazed at him his head sank lower, till it rested on the table.
"Belshazzar!" cried a youthful lieutenant, "Mene, Tekel, Upharsin! Yes, yes, my dear Mr. Hajek, your conscience seems ill at ease concerning these peasants! Why, you are crying!"
The mandatar actually had begun to sob. "Ah!" he moaned, "I must be off to the town...." He attempted to rise, but fell back on his chair. "No ... I must go back to the manor first ... my papers.... Captain!" he shrieked, imploringly, "I entreat you, let your troop be mounted, and escort me to Zulawce--I mean, stay with me till you can bring me away again in safety. I'm a dead man, and the manor will be in ruins, if you refuse!"
"Nonsense!" cried the captain, in disgust. "I should not have believed it of you! This sudden news has made a coward of you! Don't you know that I am not at liberty to order my men about in that fashion?"