"But what sort of a house can this be, then?" inquired the terrified Simon.
"A house of robbers and murderers. Sir Fulko is a bandit-chief; he is not my father, but my step-father, who tormented my mother to death.
Meryza, on the contrary, _is_ his daughter, of whom they relate horrors.
These guests, who walk about in cloth of gold, the companions of Fulko and his daughter, are every one of them murderers a hundred times over, and accursed. Formerly, until last year, they scoured the counties far and wide, in bands, on their predatory adventures. Sometimes Meryza herself led them, and she is more merciless even than her father in these nocturnal massacres. Since, however, Heaven in its wrath has inflicted this great blow on our country, and let loose the Tatars upon it, Fulko's bands have not gone forth plundering. They fear to fall in with stronger robbers than themselves, so they hung large bells in their towers, and the far-sounding voices of the bells decoy from afar those who are seeking a refuge from the Tartars. When rich nobles or chapmen come hither they are hospitably welcomed; their treasures are taken charge of, and they themselves are disposed of the very first night. If there are handsome youths amongst them they are made sport of, as you were. Fulko offers them the choice of his daughters. The youth, intoxicated by the drugged wine, demand the hand of Meryza, and they conduct him to the altar. A robber, clothed in the vestments of some murdered priest, unites them, and he finds himself her husband. When Meryza gives the signal they ring the bell outside; an alarm of 'fire'
is raised; the young husband is aroused from his slumbers, and the moment he rushes from the bedroom all trace of him is lost, and the next day there is a fresh comer, another death, another sacrifice."
"Horrible!" cried Sir Simon. "And is Michael there at this moment? Where is he, I say?"
"Speak softly! He is not there now. In the adjoining room gapes an abyss twenty fathoms wide. Every day we walk over it. The floor on which we walk turns downwards on a hinge, which is in the centre of it, and on the withdrawal of a bolt is ready to yawn open from end to end. At this moment the bolt is withdrawn. If any one were to tread upon the floor it would give way beneath him, and precipitate him below into a deep well, which leads into a long corridor, extending right away to the base of the mountain, and only admitting the light of day through a narrow opening. If by some miracle any one falls to the bottom of the dry well without dashing out his brains, he is torn to pieces in the depths by two bloodhounds of Fulko, Orcus and Erebus he calls them. On the following day, Fulko and his men descend into the cave-like corridor, scare away the dogs, and divide among them the gems and ornaments of the dead men."
"And my brother? What has happened to my brother?"
Siona dried the tears from her eyes.
"Listen, and I'll tell you the designs of your enemies. A hand will begin tapping softly on the window of the bedroom, and then they will whisper that your brother wants a word with you. They are tapping at Michael's window now."
"And he?"
"Dead, without doubt. It was impossible to save him, for Meryza would come with him to the very door, and kiss him there; and then there would be a shout--and a great silence."
Words failed Sir Simon for sheer sorrow of heart.
"All you can do now is to save yourself. Here is a long rope; tie it round your body. Here is a good sword; gird it on to your belt. Take this burning torch in your left hand; don't wait till they call. Step out upon the drawbridge. I will let you down softly by this cord, and when you have got down I'll fling the cord after you. If you meet the bloodhounds cry: 'Be off, Orcus and Erebus,' and dash the torch in their eyes, and they will not hurt you. Kill them not, for then it will be known that you have escaped, and Fulko and his men will go after you and capture you. And now hasten. When you are in a place of safety, I wish you a long life; and perhaps you will sometimes think that the poor orphan whom you chose for your faithful consort really was faithful to you."
Sir Simon embraced and kissed Siona with great emotion.
"I am really your husband, and will not leave you here; come along with me!"
"That would mean the destruction of us both. They would know in an hour that I had betrayed them, and before dawn we should be again in their hands. The whole neighbourhood is in league with them. In three days'
time they will not be able to make out which of the bones are yours.
Hasten! Tarry not!"
Sir Simon thereupon vowed to God that if he escaped from thence, and the realm ever righted itself again, he would return thither to release his bride and take vengeance on the murderers of his brother. He did everything that Siona wished. His sword in one hand, his torch in the other, the card of deliverance round his body, he cautiously stepped upon the bridge of sighs, and when it gave way beneath him, he softly descended into the terrible abyss, from whose depths a dull howling greeted him.
"God be with you!" cried the voice of Siona above his head, when he already stood at the bottom of the well. He lifted the torch and lit up everything around him. There lay his brother Michael, his beautiful head crushed to death. The two bloodhounds, which were licking up his blood, fell back before the torch into the darkness; their blood-red eyes sparkled in the distance.
Sir Simon kissed the face of his dead brother, and suffered him not to lie there for the wild beasts, but threw him over his shoulder and carried him through the long corridor till he came to the forest. The two dogs followed him all the way, but dare not attack him because of the torch.
In the forest beyond he dug a grave for the dead body, piled a great heap of stones upon it, cut crosses in the bark of four trees which towered above it so that he might recognize the spot, and earnestly prayed God to allow him to rest there in peace.
The north star now led him onwards towards the Carpathians.
Two nights he travelled continuously; in the daytime he kept closely under cover. On the third day at dawn he beheld in the distance the simple cross on the hilltop, of which the hermit had told him.
It was indeed the Stone of Refuge.
The worthy and valiant Templars, the Red Brothers, as the common folks called them, had built there a place of refuge for the fugitives of the whole kingdom, and whenever a vagrant Tatar band came after them they were bravely repulsed, and could not take them by force.
And in the third year the hand of the Lord swept away from the bereaved Magyar land the hordes of Gog and Magog, and every one returned to his devastated fatherland.
The King came back and re-created a nation and a kingdom, and laid an iron hand on the traitors and malefactors who had competed with the enemy in the devastation of their country.
Ambulatory tribunals were formed which, under the presidency of the Palatine, summoned the accused to appear at the bar on the borders of every county. Those charged with such grievous crimes had to submit to the judgments of God by means of the fire or water ordeal, or if they were warriors they had to contend with the royal warriors, whose faces were defended by helmets, and their bodies by coats of mail, while the accused had no other weapons than sword and targe.
Many an impious offender was caught in this way, to wit, renegades, traitors, saracens, cannibals, highwaymen, and spies. And at last it came to the turn of Sir Fulko. The royal herald fastened the accusing iron-glove on his gates also, and so great was the confidence of the robber chief that, though he might have fled, he did not fly, but appeared with all his retainers, with his captain Saksin, and his daughter Meryza, before the tribunal, only Siona remained behind in the earth.
Meryza put heart into Captain Saksin, who was a frightfully strong man and experienced in duelling, and bade him have no fear, but embrace the royal champion firmly, and to that end she had made for him a shirt of mail which was a masterpiece of sorcery, for no weapon could pierce it, and gave him a sword besides, which could pierce iron as if it were velvet.
Thus caparisoned, Sir Saksin planted himself in the lists where the royal champion stood; over against him and in the midst of the lists sat the Palatine beneath a canopy, with the Pristaldus standing below him, and the Pristaldus recited from a long list, in a loud voice, the charges brought against the accused, to wit, that they had faithlessly murdered those who had sought refuge with them, and had profaned the Holy Sacrament.
The accused replied that the charges against them were lies, in the belief that those who could testify against them were all dead.
"I declare the accusation to be pure calumny, and I demand a duel with the royal champion," cried Sir Saksin, defiantly.
"Then recognize whom you fight with," said the champion, pulling off his barred helmet; "I am Simon Koppand, whom Orcus and Erebus did not devour."
On hearing that name and seeing that face, the enchanted sword fell from the hand of the big powerful man; he had no more stomach for fighting.
He stretched out his hand for the fetters, and promised to confess everything.
Sir Fulko, when he heard the names of Orcus and Erebus, swiftly flung himself on his horse and galloped off; they pursued, but could not overtake him. None to this day knows what became of him.
Only Meryza remained defiant. When her father fled, and Saksin confessed everything, even she denied her crimes, and refused to tell anything.
Then she was subjected to the water ordeal, and died beneath it.
Saksin they quartered; the other robbers were beheaded.
After this the King bestowed upon Simon Koppand the castle of Sir Fulko, and Simon Koppand presented the enormous treasure he found there to the Church, to the glory of God.
But Siona he really took to wife, and was married to her a second time, canonically, and she lived with him long and happily as his faithful consort. And the name of Koppand continued for centuries.
And may the Lord God bless the Magyars hereafter as He hath done heretofore.
THE END
_Jarrold and Sons, Ltd., The Empire Press, Norwich._
NEW & FORTHCOMING PUBLICATIONS.
SHORTLY.
THE BRAIN BOOK AND HOW TO READ IT.
BY H. C. DONOVAN.