Chapter 17. Mr. Margari

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XVII. MR. MARGARI

Mr. Margari had got on in the world. He was now a real gentleman who had a four-roomed domicile, paid house-rent, and had even gone the length of marrying. And can you guess the lady of his choice?--why it was no other than Miss Clementina. That worthy virgin was of just the proper age for him, moreover a cosy little bit of cash might safely be assumed to go with her, which exercised a strong attraction upon Mr. Margari--and goes to prove that iron is not the only metal susceptible of the influence of the magnet. The worthy maiden had persuaded her respected swain to abduct her from Hidvar, an enterprise which he had nobly performed while the lady of the house was travelling with her husband to Arad. It is true there was no necessity whatever for an elopement, for the baroness was very far from being one of those dragons in feminine shape who love to tear asunder hearts that are burning for each other. If Mr. Margari had respectfully solicited the hand of her lady-companion, there is no reason to suppose he would have sued in vain; but Clementina was far too romantic for anything so humdrum as that. She insisted that he should abduct her, at night too and through a window, although she had the key of every door close at hand.

So Margari had managed to set up as a gentleman and become his own master. Clementina's money bought the furniture and they even sported a musical clock.

Mr. Margari had a smoking-room all to himself, in which he did nothing all day but smoke his pipe. No more work for him now, no more copying of MSS. There the happy husband, dressed in a flowered dressing-gown, stretched himself out at full length on the sofa and blew clouds of smoke all around him out of his long csibuk, stuffed full with the best Turkish tobacco.

Clementina was always scolding him for putting his legs upon the sofa. It was a nasty habit she said, and not only unbecoming but expensive, because it ruined the furniture. Clementina, in fact, was scolding him all day; and this was very natural, for any woman who has been condemned to obsequious servility for thirty whole years and has silently endured the caprices of her betters all that time, when she sets up as a lady on her own account will do her best to compensate herself for this interminable suppression of her natural instincts. But Mr. Margari used only to laugh when his wife began nagging at him. "_Alios jam vidi ego ventos, aliasque procellas_," he would say. He was only too glad to have a home of his own at all.

"Don't worry, woman!" he would say with reference to the furniture, "when that's worn out, I'll buy some more. John Lapussa, Esq., will give me whatever I want."

"He may be fool enough to do so now," replied Clementina, "but just you wait till he has won his action against Madame Langai and has no further need of you, he won't care two pence for you then. I know Mr. John Lapussa."

"So do I," retorted Margari. "He has paid me hitherto to say what he tells me, he shall pay me hereafter for holding my tongue. John Lapussa, Esq., will have to take care that Margari has plenty to eat and decent clothes to put on, for, if Margari grows hungry, Margari will bite."

Mr. Margari spoke with an air of such impertinent assurance and blew about such clouds of smoke that Clementina began to respect him, and sat down on the sofa by his side, no doubt to protect her property. "If you hold his honour so completely in the palm of your hand," said she, "why don't you provide better for yourself and me? It is all very well for his honour to fork out now when you press him, but money goes and more is wanted. One of these days something will happen to him and he will die,--and you can't follow him to the moon."

This was indeed a hard nut for Margari to crack. One cannot squeeze much out of dead men. Such an impression did the remark make upon him that he took his feet off the sofa and sat bolt upright.

"Then what do you think I ought to do?" he asked his wife.

"Well, it is of no use his doling you out mere driblets; for the great services you have rendered him he ought to give you something more in proportion to your merits--a little estate in the country, for instance. There we could settle down comfortably."

"True, and he has lots of such little properties which are of no use to him at all. What do you say, for instance, to an estate of one hundred acres or so; it would be a mere flea-bite to him. But flea-bite or no flea-bite that's all one to me. I _wish_ him to give it me and give it he must. I mean to pick and choose."

"And suppose he says no?"

"He'll never say that, or if he does, I shall say something to somebody and then it will be he who will be sorry and not I. Oh, he'll take jolly good care not to make Margari angry. His honour has much more need of Margari's friendship than Margari has of his honour's."

And we shall very soon see under what auspices Margari hoped to get the little country estate from Mr. John Lapussa as a reward for his faithful services.

Meanwhile the action brought by Madame Langai against Mr. John Lapussa was still in its initial stage. Both parties were inexhaustible in producing documents and raising points of law, but it seemed highly probable that Mr. John would win. Mr. John appeared almost daily before the magistrate, whom he called his dear friend and whom he frequently invited to dine, an invitation which, naturally, was never accepted. One day Mr. Monori, for that was the worthy magistrate's name, asked Mr. John whether he knew anything of a certain Margari who was soliciting the post of a clerk in the district court and gave as his reference the Lapussa family in whose service he had been for some years. Mr. John, with his innate niggardliness, at once seized this opportunity for disembarrassing himself of an importunate beggar by saddling the county with him. He exalted "the worthy, excellent man" to the skies, and especially praised his rectitude, his sobriety, his diligence!

"But is he trustworthy?" inquired the magistrate. "You see there are various little cash payments he will have to see to, is he clean handed?"

"As good as gold, I assure you. I could trust him with thousands. Why some of my own bills are in his keeping--" and with that he proceeded to say as many pretty things of Margari as if he were a horse dealer trying to palm off a blind nag on some ignorant bumpkin at a fair.

In his delight at having so successfully rid himself of such an incubus, he made his _valet-de-chambre_ slip over to Margari to tell the worthy man to wait upon him on the morrow at 11 o'clock precisely, as he had a very pleasant piece of news to impart to him; for he meant to make Margari believe that it was through his, Mr. John Lapussa's special influence, that he had obtained the coveted appointment and so get him to renounce all further claims upon his old patron.

On the very same day Mr. John was surprised to receive a visit from the magistrate, Mr. Monori, and this certainly was a wonder, for the magistrate never made any but official visits.

"To what do I owe this extraordinary pleasure?" asked Mr. John, familiarly inviting the magistrate to sit down on a couch.

"I have come in the matter of this Margari," said Monori, holding himself very stiffly and fixing his eyes sharply on Mr. John. "Since our conversation of this morning, the circumstance has come to my knowledge that one of my colleagues in the county of Arad has succeeded in finding the long-lost Coloman Lapussa."

At these words Mr. John began to smooth out the ends of his mustache and chew them attentively.

"The young man confesses to having forged the bill, but asserts that it was Margari who led him to do so, and that the bill signed by him was originally for forty florins only, so that undoubtedly somebody else must have turned it into 40,000."

Mr. John coughed very much at these words,--no doubt the bit of mustache which he had bit off stuck in his throat.

"This is a very ticklish circumstance, I must confess," continued Monori, "for although the young man's offence has thereby been considerably lightened, yet the burden of the charge has now been shifted to other shoulders hitherto quite free from suspicion. No doubt, he being a minor, under strict control, did what he did as a mere schoolboy frolic, but this Margari and an unknown somebody else will find it not quite such a laughing matter."

Mr. John's mustache was by this time not enough for him, he began nibbling his nails as well.

"But what are you driving at?" he said. "How does all this concern me?"

"It concerns you, sir, in this way: you told me that Margari was your confidential agent, and therefore he must have destroyed the bill at your bidding."

"I only said that to help him to get a small official post. I am responsible for nobody. What have I to do with the characters of my servants, my lacqueys."

"But you assured me that your bills often passed through his hands."

Mr. John fancied that the best way out of this unpleasant _cul-de-sac_ was by adopting a little energetic bluffing.

"What do you mean by cross-examining me in my own house?" he cried, with affected _hauteur_, springing from the sofa.

The magistrate rose at the same time.

"Pardon me, but I am here not as a visitor, but in my official capacity--as your judge."

And with that he coolly unbuttoned his _attila_[40] and drew forth from the inside pocket a large sealed letter.

[Footnote 40: A fur pelisse, worn on state occasions.]

"You must swear to every one of the interrogatories administered to you by me."

"I? I'll swear to nothing," cried Mr. John. "I am a Quaker and therefore cannot take an oath."

"This document, sir, is a royal mandate and whoever refuses to obey it is liable to penalties."

"What penalties?"

"A fine of eighty florins."

"Eighty florins? There you are then, take them!" cried Mr. John flinging down the amount eagerly and thinking to himself that this mandate was indeed a juridical masterpiece, not being binding on a rich man--for what after all is eighty florins?

"Very good," said Mr. Monori, giving him a receipt for the amount, "I'll come again to-morrow."

"What for?"

"I shall again call upon you to answer my interrogatories upon oath."

"And if I won't swear?"

"Why then you'll have to pay the court fine _toties-quoties_. A _juratus tabulae regiae notarius_ will call regularly every day and exact the fine from you until such time as you make up your mind to take the oaths. Good-day."

After the magistrate had withdrawn Mr. John's fury reached its climax. First of all he poured forth his wrath upon the poor inkstand, with the ink from which Monori had written out the receipt. This he dashed to the ground. The lacquey who rushed in at the commotion to inquire if his honour had rung, he seized by the nape of the neck and flung out of the room. Then he rushed after the man and pommelled him for daring to go out before he had been told to go. Finally he dashed out and, for the lowest silver coin he could make up his mind to part with, hired a hackney coach to take him to his villa near the park, for thither he had resolved to fly.

On arriving there he recovered himself somewhat.

So Coloman had been discovered and had confessed about his own doings and Margari's. Well he must simply disavow Margari, that's all. But suppose Margari were to make a clean breast of it? Well he could repudiate the whole thing of course. But then that wretched royal mandate? He must either swear or pay the court fine every day. It would be best perhaps to fly, to leave the capital of the magistrate behind him and set out on his travels. Perhaps then they would forget all about it. But then there was the law-suit! And suppose it should be decided in the meantime and decided against him! It was an absurd dilemma! To remain here was dangerous and to go away was also dangerous. What a good job it would be if that cursed forged-bill business could disappear from the face of the earth. The bill ought to be withdrawn. But that was impossible because it was already in the magistrate's hands, and therefore could not be ignored. And then the oath required of him. Either he must confess that he was personally interested in the matter and then he would not be required to swear but would at the same time make himself an object of suspicion, or else he must go on paying this infernal toll money in order to be able to cross the non-juratory bridge, so to speak. It was an absolutely desperating syllogism, and after tossing about sleeplessly all night in the midst of this vicious circle, Mr. John resolved in the morning to set off at once for the vineyards of Promontor,[41] tell his servants that he meant to remain there and enjoy himself, and immediately afterwards get into a post-chaise and drive to his Sarfeneki property. Nobody should know his real address but his lawyer, and there he would await developments, only emerging in case of the most urgent necessity.

[Footnote 41: A village a few miles out of Pest.]

So he hastily swallowed his chocolate, wrapped himself in his mantle and fancied that now he might safely fly; but he reckoned without his host, for, on the very doorstep, he came face to face with Margari!

"What do you want here, eh?" he inquired fiercely of the humble man he feared so much.

"You were so good as to make an appointment with me, your honour," said Margari cringingly.

"Yes, yes, I know, I know" (he was afraid to warn him of his danger, with all the servants listening to them), "but I cannot spare the time now, come some other day. I cannot give you anything here."

"But your honour was good enough to say that you had some glad tidings to communicate."

"Another time, another time! I am very busy just now."

Mr. John would have shaken off Margari altogether, but Margari was not so easily got rid of. He had already ascertained from the coachman that Mr. John was off to Promontor and did not mean to return again in a hurry, so he resolved to take his measures accordingly. He rushed forward to open the carriage door, helped Mr. John to get into the coach, wished him a most pleasant journey, no end of enjoyment and other meaningless things, all of which made much the same agreeable impression upon Mr. John as if an ant had crept into his boot and he could not kill it because he was in company. Only when the carriage door was shut to and he saw Margari's face no more did he begin to breathe freely again.

Margari however attributed this reception, or rather, non-reception, to the capricious humours to which his honour was constantly liable without rhyme or reason (it is a peculiarity of self-made plutocrats as everybody knows); but he was not a bit offended,--he knew his place. His honour doesn't want to see Margari just now, very well, he shall not see him so he jumped up behind the carriage alongside the lacquey. But how surprised his honour will be when he gets to Promontor to see Margari open the carriage door for him? How he will bid him go to the devil and immediately after burst out laughing and give him a present! And what will the present be? Has it anything to do with the good news with which he meant to surprise him? And all the while, Mr. John, inside the carriage was hugging himself with the idea that he had rid himself of Margari for a time and devoutly wishing that the cholera, or some other equally rapid and effectual disease, might remove the old rascal off the face of the earth altogether.

When the carriage stopped at the picturesque vineyards of Promontor, Mr. John almost had a stroke when, on looking through the glass window, the first feature of the panorama that presented itself was the figure of Margari, hastening to open the door with obsequious familiarity.

"You here, Sirrah," he roared (he would have choked with rage on the spot if he had not said Sirrah). "How on earth did _you_ get here?"

Margari instantly imagined that his honour's flashing eyes, convulsive mouth and distorted face were the outward signs of a jocose frame of mind, for there was always a sort of travesty of humour in Mr. John's features whenever he was angry. So, to his own confusion, it occurred to him to make a joke for the first time in his life.

"Crying your honour's pardon, I _flew_," said he.

And in fact the very next instant he was sent flying so impetuously that he did not stop till he plumped right into the trellis-work surrounding a bed of vines. Never in all his life before had Mr. John dispensed such a buffet. Margari fairly disappeared among the leaves of the friendly vine arbours.

It was now Mr. John's turn to be frightened at what he had done. He was frightened because every box on the ears he gave used regularly to cost him 200 florins, a very costly passion to indulge in. And besides he was particularly anxious just then to keep Margari in a good humour. A man may loathe a viper but he had better not tread on its tail if he cannot tread on its head. Horrified at his own outburst of rage, the moment he saw Margari disappear in the vine-arbours, he rushed after him, freed him with his own hands, picked him up, set him on his legs again and began to comfort him.

"Come, come, my dear friend! compose yourself. I did not mean to hurt you. You are not angry, are you. I hope you are not hurt? Where did you hit yourself?"

Margari, however, began whimpering like a schoolboy, the more the other tried to quiet him, the more loudly he bellowed.

"Come, come! don't make such a noise! Come under the verandah and wipe the blood from your face!"

"But I am not a dog!" roared Margari. "I won't go under the verandah, I'll go into the street. I'll howl at the top of my voice. The whole town shall see me bleed."

"Margari, don't be a fool! I didn't mean to hurt you. I was too violent, I admit it. Look here! I'll give you money. How much do you want? Will 200 florins be enough?"

At the words "200 florins," Margari stopped roaring a bit, but he wanted to see the colour of the money, for he thought to himself that if he quieted down first he would get nothing at all. So he kept on whining and limped first on one leg and then on the other and plastered his whole face over with blood from the one little scratch he had got.

Mr. John hastened to wipe Margari's face with his own pocket handkerchief.

"Come, come my dear Margari. I have told you I did not mean to do it. Here are the two hundred florins I promised you. But now leave me alone. Go abroad with the money and enjoy yourself and I will give you some more later on."

"I most humbly thank you," lisped the buffeted wretch with a conciliatory voice and he kissed Mr. John's two hundred florined hand repeatedly, while the other did all in his power to hustle him out of the door; and so engrossed was he in the effort that he never observed that some one had been observing the scene the whole time. He therefore regularly collapsed when a voice which he instantly recognized, addressed him: "Good morning, sir!"

The Lernean Hydra was not more petrified at the sight of the head of Medusa than was Mr. John by the sight of the person who had just addressed him. It was the magistrate, Mr. Monori.

At first he feared he had come after him for his diurnal eighty florins, but something very much worse than that was in store for him.

"Pardon me," said the magistrate drawing nearer, "but by order of the High Court, I am here to arrest Margari, and ascertaining that you had taken him away with you, I was obliged to follow to prevent him from escaping altogether."

Two stout _pandurs_[42] behind the magistrate gave additional emphasis to his words.

[Footnote 42: Hungarian police officers.]

"Arrest me?" cried Margari, "why me? I am as honest as the day. I am neither a murderer nor yet a robber. Mr. John Lapussa can answer for me. I am his confidential agent!"--and he clung convulsively to the coat tail of his principal.

Mr. John plainly perceived that never in his life before had he been in such an awkward situation. They could accuse him now of having instigated Margari to make a bolt of it. Had not the magistrate seen him give the wretched man money to run away with? His first care was to disengage Margari's hands from his coat tail and next to hold him at arm's length so that he should not clutch his collar. Then with pompous impertinence he pretended not to know him.

"What does the man want? Who is he? How did he come hither?" he exclaimed. "I know nothing about him. I boxed his ears for molesting me, and then I gave him 200 florins which is the usual legal fine for an assault of that kind, to prevent him bringing an action against me. We have nothing else in common. Take him away by all means. Put him in irons. Give him whatever punishment he has deserved. Yes," he continued, seizing the astounded Margari by the cravat, "you are a refined scoundrel. You persuaded my dear nephew Coloman to take that false step and then you yourself changed the forty florins into forty thousand. You wanted to ruin the young man's future and bring a slur upon the family. I know everything. His honour the magistrate told me all about it yesterday, and that is why I hand you over to the law for punishment." And with that he shook him so violently that he fell on his back again, this time into a bed of tomatoes, whereby his white linen pantaloons very speedily became stained with the national colours.[43]

[Footnote 43: Red, white and green.]

The dialogue that thereupon ensued no shorthand reporter could have reproduced, for the pair of them began forthwith to rave and storm at one another with all their might, stamping, swearing, shaking their fists, and loading each other with abuse. When they had got as far as calling each other robber and scoundrel, the magistrate thought it high time to interfere, and at his command Margari was torn forcibly out of the tomato bed, led to a hackney coach and thrust inside; yet even then he put his head out of the window and shouted that he did not mean to sit in prison alone but would very soon have Mr. John Lapussa there also, as his companion. All the efforts of the two pandurs were powerless to silence him.

As for Mr. John, the magistrate simply said to him: "Sir, it is not good for a man to make use of nasty tools, for by so doing he only dirties his own hands."

Then he got into a second hackney coach and drove away after the first one.

Even Mr. John could see that it was now quite impossible for him under the circumstances to think of quitting Pest. _

Read next: Chapter 18. The Undiscoverable Lady

Read previous: Chapter 16. Leander Baberossy

Table of content of Poor Plutocrats


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book