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I shall wait, and in this waiting I have enough gladness." Oh how I would have loved to kiss her for those words: but that face was so holy before me, I should have considered it a sacrilege to touch it with my lips. "We remain then as we were." "Very well." "Not a word of it for two years yet, when you are released from your word of honor you gave to Lorand, and may discover his whereabouts.
"With pleasure: please sit down. I am very glad to see you," said Sárvölgyi, in a husky tone, as if some invisible hand were choking his throat. "Desiderius has grown a big boy, has he not?" said Lorand, taking a seat between Madame Bálnokházy and Melanie, while Desiderius sat opposite Sárvölgyi, who could not take his eyes off the lad. "Big and handsome," affirmed Madame Bálnokházy.
Lorand made me give him my word of honor, not to betray his whereabouts not to his mother and grandmother. He said he had a great reason to ask this, and said any neglect of my promise would produce great misfortune. I gave him my word, and that word I must keep." Poor mother fell on her knees before me, embraced me, showered kisses upon me, and begged me so to tell her where Lorand was.
"Stop a moment," Lorand exclaimed, taking out his purse. "Let no one say that you were paid for any services you did me with other people's money." "Wha-at?" roughly grumbled Móczli. "Pay me? Am I a 'Hanák fuvaros' that someone should pay me for helping a 'juratus' to escape? That has never happened yet." With that he whipped up his horses, and drove out of the courtyard.
But you are playing a dangerous game, sir: maybe the time will come when I shall not cast out him whom I have hated!" "Well, that will be your own business, my dear. But the first business is to tell our relation Lorand that by ten o'clock this evening he must not be found here: for at that hour they will come to arrest him." Hermine walked up and down her room in anger.
"Never be afraid of me; now Lorand might have reason to be: we both want what is ready; we do not court your little girl, but her mother. If the old wigged councillor is not jealous of us, don't you be so." I expected Lorand to smite that fair mouth for this despicable calumny. Instead of which he merely said, half muttering: "Don't; before the child..."
The girl fell against the wall. Lorand at once took her in his arms and carried her into his room. The lamp was still burning: he had just finished his letters. He laid the wounded girl upon his bed. He was terrified to see her covered with blood. "Are you badly wounded?" "Oh, no," said the girl: "see, the knife only went in so deep."
At first she shuffled the cards, then, placing them on her hand offered them to Lorand. "Here they are, cut them: the one, whose future is being told, must cut. Not with the left hand, that is not good. With the right hand, towards you." Lorand did so, to please her. Czipra piled the cards in packs before her.
Dear mother often rose from her seat to kiss and embrace Lorand, overwhelmed him with caresses, and made him promise to write much; if anything happened to him, he must write and tell it at once, and must always consider that bad news would afflict two hearts at home. She only spoke to me to bid me drink my coffee warm, as the morning air would be chilly.
"There will be something else, Czipra," said Lorand. "Now I am going away with my brother to celebrate his marriage, then I shall return again." Thereupon there was no more need to insist on Czipra's being good-humored the whole day. Her good-humor came voluntarily. Poor girl, so little was required to make her happy.
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