"Perhaps you are right," said the young man, with a sigh; "although your words were rude." And without further comment, he removed himself from his reclining position, and walked away with hurried steps.
The old domestic followed rapidly, and, as they approached the St Michael's gate, evidently expected that his young master would enter his lodging close by; but, seeing that he still walked on, Farkas paused for a moment, and murmured the words, "He bade me leave him. But he is utterly distraught. He knows not what he says; he has forgotten his command ere now; and who knows what may happen to the poor foolish boy!" And having thus reassured his conscience upon his act of disobedience, he pursued the young man's footsteps at a respectful distance, through the gateway, over the bridge, and along the suburb.
Beyond lay a more open road, skirted by gardens, and enlivened here and there by summer pavilions, belonging to some of the wealthier nobles; and, at about a quarter of a mile from the town, stood, to the left of the wanderers, a stately palace, built in the heavy but ornamented style of the commencement of the same century, and backed by gardens, that stretched out behind it to the foot of that richly wooded and romantic ridge of low mountains which gives so peculiar a charm to the environs of the fine old city of Presburg.
Passing through a side entrance of the court of this palace, which served as a summer residence to the Archbishop Primate of Hungary—at that period the Prince Immeric Esterhazy—and entering the gardens beyond, which the liberality of the wealthy primate opened to public recreation, but which were now empty, the young noble sauntered on, lost in meditation, through statues of heathen divinities, which seemed ill in accordance with the abode of a Christian bishop; and tritoned fountains, and stiff parterres, and huge incommodious stone benches; until, reaching an alley of shady planes and clustering chestnut-trees, he flung himself listlessly down on the mossy bench of a shell and pebble-studded niche. The glow of the last rays of the setting sun faintly penetrated the entrance of the avenue, adding a still richer colour to the rich green shades of the trees, as yet untouched by the influence of autumn; while, in the distant opening of the dark vista, framed, as it were, by the circling trees, appeared a hazy landscape of calm vine-covered hills, dotted with white cottages. It was a spot peculiarly adapted to meditation and repose, the solitude of which was enhanced, rather than disturbed, by its sole occupant—a misanthropic stork, that with its wings folded on its back, like a sulky old gentleman with his arms behind him, placed slowly and deliberately one foot before the other, as it stepped on in lonely thoughtfulness.
For a time the young man sat lost in reflection; and it was not until he at length raised his head to gaze upon a scene congenial to his feelings, that he became aware of the form of old Farkas, standing erect against a tree, like a sentry in his box, at no great distance from him.
"This is a persecution to which I cannot submit," he murmured to himself; and then rising, and calling angrily to his attendant, he cried,
"Did I not bid you leave me, Farkas?"
"Leave you, my lord?" said the attendant, advancing with an air of surprise.
"Yes, leave me. Do you hear now?"
"My duty"—continued the old man, in an expostulatory tone.