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Updated: June 24, 2025
One of them, the youngest and prettiest, a gypsy, was seized by the Russian officer, and, when peace was declared soon after, carried off by him to Russia. This was Tisza Laszlo, Marsa's mother. The officer, a great Russian nobleman, a handsome fellow and extremely rich, really loved her with a mad sort of love.
You used as a weapon the letters of a woman, and of a woman whom you had deceived by promising her your name when it was no longer yours to give!" "Are you here to defend Mademoiselle Marsa Laszlo?" asked Michel, a trifle haughtily. "I am here to defend the Princess Zilah, and to avenge Prince Andras.
She spoke these words in grave, sweet accents, which seemed more melodious to Prince Andras than all the music of Baroness Dinati's concert. He divined that Marsa Laszlo found as much pleasure in speaking to him as he felt in listening.
Michel Menko was advancing to salute Marsa Laszlo, and take with affectionate respect the hand which Andras extended to him. Marsa coldly returned the low bow of the young man, and took no part in the conversation which followed.
And the years passed without the Tzigana pardoning the Russian, and without Marsa ever having called him father. In the name of their child, the Prince one day solemnly asked Tisza Laszlo to consent to become his wife, and the mother refused. "But our daughter?" said the Prince. "My daughter? She will bear the name of her mother, which at least is not a Russian name." The Prince was silenced.
It was like a recovery from an illness, or the disappearance of a nightmare in the dawn of morning. Now, Marsa Laszlo, who, two years before, had longed for annihilation and death, occasionally thought the little Baroness Dinati right when she said, in her laughing voice: "What are you thinking of, my dear child? Is it well for a girl of your age to bury herself voluntarily and avoid society?"
This was worse than all the rest. How could he punish her? Punish her? Why not? Was not Marsa Laszlo his wife? That villa of Maisons-Lafitte, where she thought herself so safe, was his by law. He, the husband, had a right to enter there at any hour and demand of his wife an account of his honor. "She wished this name of Zilah!
And was not this existence sweet and pleasant, compared with the life led by Tisza in the castle of the suburbs of Moscow? In this solitude, in the villa of Maisons-Lafitte, Andras Zilah was again to see Marsa Laszlo. He came not once, but again and again.
And, in the great halls hung with tapestry and filled with pictures which the conquerors had respected, before those portraits of magnates superb in their robes of red or green velvet edged with fur, curved sabres by their sides and aigrettes upon their heads, all reproducing a common trait of rough frankness, with their long moustaches, their armor and their hussar uniforms Marsa Laszlo, who knew them well, these heroes of her country, these Zilah princes who had fallen upon the field of battle, said to the last of them all, to Andras Zilah, before Ferency Zilah, before Sandor, before the Princesses Zilah who had long slept in "dull, cold marble," and who had been no prouder than she of the great name they bore: "Do you know the reason why, equal to these in devotion and courage, you are superior to them all!
Her tone and expression made Michel Menko tremble as if each syllable of these few words was a blow in the face. "Marsa!" he exclaimed, imploringly. "Marsa!" "My name is Marsa Laszlo; and, in a few days, I shall be Princess Zilah," responded the young girl, passing haughtily by him, "and I think you will hardly force me to make you remember it."
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