CHAPTER XI
TWO TALES, OF WHICH ONLY ONE IS TRUE
After a couple of days the whole hunting party returned from the mountains. This was much sooner than they had determined, and the cause was a very serious accident which had befallen Baron Hátszegi. They brought him home in an ambulance car to Henrietta's great consternation. The baroness, sitting by the bedside, heard from the doctor that her husband's wounds were serious, but that his life was not in danger, and that he might even be allowed to smoke a cigar if he liked. Then Mr. Gerzson related how it had happened: "Only imagine, your ladyship! This irrepressible friend of ours, not content with pursuing game all day through the thickets, learns, late in the evening, that a gigantic old bear was trotting towards the ice valley, and, without saying a word to anybody, must needs leave the company and set off alone, late at night, on the track, with only a double-barrelled musket and not so much as a dog to keep him company. The bear enticed Leonard further and further. At last down he squats before him in the bright moonlight and begins licking his paws; then suddenly quits the path and disappears. Leonard thought at first that the bear had returned within the deadly circle drawn for him by our beaters, till, all at once, on reaching a steep slope covered with reeds, he again heard a growling and perceived the savage beast trying to scale the slope. The place was too steep for a man to climb, but a bear with the help of his long strong claws can scale it like a fly climbing up a wall. Leonard soon saw that he would be unable to get a close shot at the bear, so he resolved to fire down from where he was at random. But the experienced old brute, guessing this good idea, instantly executed one of those surprising feats which only fall within the observation of veteran hunters. While Leonard was taking aim, the bear rolled rapidly down the steep incline by means of a series of clever somersaults and rushed upon Leonard with a sort of swift shamble. And a cursed bad manoeuvre it is, I can tell you. The acrobatic beast, whether a man hits it or not inevitably bears down the hunter by his sheer weight, and as a man's bones are more brittle than a beast's, and he has no tough pelt to cover him withal, he will be infallibly crushed to pulp,—while the bear takes the whole thing as a mere joke and ambles on further. But the whole affair did not last half as long as I take to tell it. Leonard had just time enough to fling himself on the ground before the first rush came. Then he felt a heavy body fall prone upon him and then they began to roll over and over in company among all sorts of stones and bushes, till a benevolent rock interrupted their rapid descent. Fortunately the bear was underneath and lay stunned at full length upon the ground. Our friend Leonard naturally did not wait for his travelling companions to pick him up. He had lost his musket and it was a good job that his hunting-knife had snapped off close at the hilt instead of running into his body; then, too, his knees and elbows were badly crushed, yet he had sufficient strength and presence of mind to drag himself back to our hunting box, and his story was a very pleasant surprise for us, I can tell you. At first, indeed, we were much alarmed, and fancied that every bone in his body was out of joint, but now we can look on it merely as soldiers' luck. To-morrow he'll be up no doubt, and the day after to-morrow we shall all be dancing."
Henrietta had never removed her eyes from her husband's face during this narration, and it was plain from his looks that he was not proud of his adventure and did not want it talked about. "Why do you frighten my wife to death?" he said. "It is a mere trifle. Let me remain for a whole night in cold wet wraps, and to-morrow I shall be all right. And now, enough of the stupid business. And will you please, Henrietta, look after my guests while I lie here in swaddling bands? All I want is a couple of days of rest and then I shall be on my legs again."
Towards midnight Henrietta disappeared from among her guests and went to enquire after Leonard; but she found his chamber door locked, and received no answer to her gentle enquiries, from which she gathered that Leonard was still dozing. She did not want to disturb him, and as her husband's guests, judging by the noise they made, had evidently begun to amuse themselves in real earnest after her departure, she did not return to them, but hastened to her own chamber.
How amazed was she to find Anicza there closeted with Clementina!
The Roumanian girl had been awaiting Henrietta for some time, and Clementina thought it quite natural to conduct her into her mistress's sleeping-room, imagining that there was some monetary transaction between them, of which the baron and the domestics need know nothing. In order that she might not be bored by waiting, Clementina entertained her for a whole hour with a hair-raising account of the hunting accident, with which the whole castle was full. Anicza let the other talk on without so much as a hint that she had a still more hair-raising and terrific tale to tell of the night just past than ever Miss Clementina had.
As soon as Henrietta perceived Anicza, she politely requested Clementina to be so good as to leave them to themselves, a request which Clementina very naturally regarded as incomprehensible; and, of course, the instant she had crossed the threshold, she diligently took up her position before the keyhole. She was, however, furious to discover that Henrietta proceeded, more prudently than speakers on the stage who regularly allow themselves to be overheard by eaves-droppers, for she drew together the heavy damask curtains of the alcove and retired behind them with Anicza, so that neither prying eyes nor listening ears could find anything there to satisfy their inquisitiveness.
"It almost succeeded!" said the Roumanian girl impatiently, beginning her story at the end instead of at the beginning.
"Only almost?" repeated the dissatisfied Henrietta.