"Alas, your ladyship!" cried Milly, when she saw that her husband could not immediately find an answer, "I fear me greatly that my husband will never do for such a post as that. He is, like me, very ignorant. He did not learn very much at school and they kicked him out at last. Now, a castellan has to speak with many great lords, and read many letters which are written in Latin and German, and even French perhaps. How could my poor dear husband read and answer all these letters? A mischief would surely come of it."

"I tell you what," said the countess; "I know Latin, German, and French. Come to me at the castle twice a day, and I'll instruct you in all those languages. Nay, you must. I have nothing else to do, and what you learn from me you must teach your husband at home, and thus he will very soon know everything required of him in his new office."

"That will do very well," said the count.

Now it would have been downright rudeness to have rejected such a generous offer. A greater reward and distinction they could not have desired. Nevertheless, they resolved to keep the matter secret and not even tell it to Dame Sarah, who would certainly have boasted of it all over the town. All they let her know was that the countess had permitted Milly to come to the castle daily to learn cookery from her cook and st.i.tching from her housekeeper. Now _we_ know that Milly could do all these things ever so long ago; but the astonishment of Dame Sarah was great indeed when her daughter-in-law, every time she returned from the castle, proceeded to manufacture some new cake or pastry, while she soon hemmed handkerchiefs so beautifully that it was a marvel how she did it.

It was also a great surprise for Dame Sarah when Valentine chose for her from among the imprisoned Turks a good-humored fellow who had been a butcher's apprentice in his native place. To him the shop could safely be intrusted, for a Turk, when properly treated, is an upright, diligent, and sober servant, and devoted to his master.

Dame Sarah treated him like her own son, and would not allow him to be branded, as was usually done in those days.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Wherein occur such astounding transformations that people are scarcely able to recognize their very selves. Michal, however, is calumniated in a matter wherein she is absolutely innocent.

However great was the astonishment of Dame Sarah at Milly's rapid proficiency in the culinary and other female sciences, it was as nothing compared with the astonishment of the Countess Hommonai at the swift apprehension of her pupil. You had only to read a pa.s.sage over to her once, and she immediately knew it by heart, and what is more, never again forgot it. She could repeat one hundred foreign words after hearing them p.r.o.nounced for the first time. "This young woman is a genius," said the countess to her husband. She had no idea that her pupil had learnt long ago what she was now teaching her.

Moreover, the countess gradually weaned her from all her boorish habits, and accustomed her to polite manners, which Milly appropriated all the more readily as they were what she had always been used to, whereas her rusticity was a mere disguise and pretense.

Wonderful, too, was the scientific progress which Milly brought about in worthy Valentine, her husband.

For Valentine had taken her at her word, and made it the goal of his ambition to obtain the post of castellan, so that his wife might enjoy the t.i.tle of chatelaine. And wondrous indeed were his advances on the path of learning. Perhaps, too, Valentine might have proved an apter scholar in his younger days if grammar and syntax had only been recited to him by such sweet lips, and if the _hic_, _haec_, _hoc_ had been impressed upon him with sweet kisses instead of with _ferula_ and _signum_. Perhaps, too, the stronger will that goes hand in hand with mental maturity helped him more quickly onward.

After some months he had got on so well that he could not only clearly expound the Latin and German letters which the count laid before him, but could even reply to them; nay, even in French he got so far that no one could have cheated him in a bargain conducted in that language.

So Milly was instructed by the countess, and Valentine was instructed by Milly, and all three took delight in the progress that was being made.

"What a pity it is," said the countess to her husband on one occasion, "that such a clever, highly endowed young woman, who has such a fine figure, such good features, and such a pleasant manner, should be disfigured by so many hideous freckles. If only we could remedy this evil! I have a wash, the famous Aqua Regina, which dates from the days of Elizabeth, the mother of our king, Louis the Great; my face is quite smooth and soft from using it--let us try it on her, perhaps it will do something to remove these hideous freckles."

Milly dared not a.s.sent at once, but said she must first ask her husband if he wished her face to be free from freckles, as it was with her freckled face that he had fallen in love originally. She must also communicate beforehand with her mother-in-law, as that lady might possibly regard her daughter-in-law's endeavor to beautify her face as a species of coquetry.

But both Valentine and his mother acquiesced in the experiment. They said that a medicament which the countess used herself could not possibly do Milly any harm.

The disfiguring freckles which had been produced by the juice of the euphorbia naturally vanished from Michal's face after she had washed herself twice or thrice with the Aqua Regina. In a few days she had quite a different appearance. She got a white and red complexion, and a skin as pure as dew. The countess was triumphant with joy that her wash should have produced such a marvelous effect, and Dame Sarah also was beside herself with astonishment when she saw her daughter-in-law growing daily in grace and beauty; but the happiest of all was Valentine, as he gradually won back his adored Michal, whom he regarded as the fairest, best, and wisest woman in the whole world.

The ladies of Ka.s.sa, however, were by no means disposed to regard this wondrous transformation with favorable eyes. At that time (now, of course, it is quite different) the complexions of the fair Ka.s.sa burgesses, owing to the bad spring water, the close air, the sour wine, but also and especially to the plague which broke out there on the average every seven years--the complexions of the fair Ka.s.sa burgesses, I say, were then of that peculiar yellowish tinge which in the faces of the Venetian ladies is called _morbidezza_, but which in Hungary usually went by the name of the Ka.s.sa color. Lest, however, we should be saddled with the charge of calumny, we hasten, in our justification, to cite the following words from one of the original sources of our present history: "The people, more particularly the women folk, are of a pale and yellow color, which in Hungary is called the Ka.s.sa color." (_Vide_ Johan Christopher Wagner's "Town and History Mirror," 1687.)

That, however, was two hundred years ago. Nowadays, the complexion of the ladies of Ka.s.sa, like the complexions of their fair sisters elsewhere, consists of roses and lilies; and it is also no longer true what the same author says of the wine of Ka.s.sa, to wit, that it gives foreigners the gout.

Now when the women at morning service in church on Christmas Day perceived Milly sitting demurely in the countess's pew, they were scandalized beyond expression at her red and white cheeks, on which not the smallest freckle was to be seen.

They could not of course insult her to her face, because her distinguished patroness was present; but they put their heads together in the vestry, and quitted it with the steadfast determination to submit the case to the consideration of the dean.

Dame Furmender took it upon herself to be the mouthpiece of the pious sisterhood. She informed the dean that a young woman had come to church that very morning with her cheeks painted white and red, which lewd and unchristian conduct had sorely troubled the whole of the pious congregation.

There was service again in the afternoon, when the very reverend gentleman was wont to catechize. For in those days it was the custom for young persons, both bachelors and spinsters, and especially young married people from foreign parts, to be called forth into the midst of the congregation and be catechized by the very reverend gentleman in front of the Lord's Table; so that it might be made manifest whether they were well grounded in the principles of the creed and the confession, and also that they might confess publicly, before the whole church, that they belonged to the true evangelical Christian faith; lest at the distribution of the Lord's Supper, on the following day, the bread and wine might be given to such as did not even know why the sacred elements were so given, or lest those should communicate who were morally unworthy so to do.

The first person whom the very reverend gentleman called up that afternoon was the young wife of Valentine Kalondai.

Milly rose from her place and stepped modestly but fearlessly forward. She felt quite secure, for she knew her whole catechism by heart. It came as easy to her as the Paternoster.

But great was her astonishment when the very reverend gentleman, instead of questioning her on the mystery of the Trinity or as to the necessity of communicating in both kinds, roughly addressed her as follows:

"Dost thou know, pious Christian lady! the commandment of G.o.d which forbids all the faithful daughters of his Church to make of the face which he of his grace has given to each one of them, another face after the manner of the heathen, by anointing it with all kinds of false and meretricious salves as the daughters of Midian were wont to do?"

Milly answered with a perfectly clear conscience:

"I know it."

"Then, if thou knowest it, wherefore doest thou the contrary?"

"My countenance is just as G.o.d has made it," replied Milly, with a tranquil heart.

"If what thou hast said be true, come wash thyself herein!"

The very reverend gentleman beckoned, and the sacristan placed on the marble font a large silver basin full of crystal clear water.

Milly most willingly washed her face in the basin, and after she had done so, the water was as pure as it had been before.

"And now wipe thy face with this!"

With that he handed the young woman a towel, with which she rubbed her face all over with all her might, yet not the smallest trace of anything red or white was to be seen upon the snowy napkin, while her face had only become rosier than ever from the scrubbing.

The dean was astonished.

"How comes it," cried he, "that thy face, which was once so full of freckles, is now without a single speck upon it?"

"Freckles always disappear in winter," answered Milly.

And that was no more than the truth. From many faces freckles disappear in winter, and it was just then the very depth of winter.

At this, the very reverend gentleman grew very wroth. He struck the table violently with his book, and stretching forth his hand, exclaimed:

"Then thou hast been foully calumniated by thine accuser, Dame Furmender, the wife of Augustus Zwirina, who, by way of punishment for such a calumny, is excluded from to-morrow's communion."

Dame Furmender, who was sitting in the corner of the front pew, where everyone could see it, got up, courtesied, and went straight out of the church.

But the dean kept Michal back in order to catechize her, and began to put various questions to her, which she answered so promptly and so correctly that he was perfectly delighted. He absolutely could not leave off catechizing her.

He went out of his way to find harder and ever harder questions, to every one of which the lady nevertheless found an appropriate answer, so that at last the audience began to whisper to each other that the maids of Bartfa must be as learned as chaplains. Finally the dean sent her back to her place with a warm eulogy and his benediction.

Thus the day on which Michal was to have been put to shame ended with her exaltation and the utter discomfiture of her calumniators.

Dame Sarah was naturally triumphant, but she was not more delighted than the good Countess Hommonai, who justly imagined that Michal had her to thank for all her knowledge.

And the countess was quite right in thinking so, for though it is true that Milly had originally received her beauty and her wisdom from G.o.d, nevertheless, both her bodily and her spiritual excellences had been so completely killed and buried by the contrarieties of fate that their resurrection might well be regarded as the work of the countess.