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It stood at the furthest end of the village, away from the main road, and the cool meadows beside the Maros, away from the church and the barn and all the brightest spots of Marosfalva.

And now when Andor face to face with the first great sorrow of his life felt as if his heart must break under it, he loved to hear the gipsy musician softly caressing the strings of his violin as he played close to his ear the sweetest, saddest melody among all the sweet, sad melodies in the Magyar tongue. It begins thus: "A Maros vize folyik csendesen!" "The waters of the Maros flow sluggishly "

The Vandal princes were stimulated by fear and revenge; the Gothic kings aspired to extend their dominion from the Euxine to the frontiers of Germany; and the waters of the Maros, a small river which falls into the Teyss, were stained with the blood of the contending Barbarians.

This rugged path is the highway from Maros to the Bugis country beyond the mountains. During the rainy season it is quite impassable, the river filling its bed and rushing between perpendicular cliffs many hundred feet high. It was along the path between the lower and the upper falls, and about the margin of the upper pool, that I found most insects.

Every morning he would consume one of his rolls and wash it down with the lukewarm brackish water of the Maros and bitter enough he found the taste of it too. He never quitted the carriage for more than two or three minutes at a time, and he presented his pistols point blank at everyone who approached him with inquisitive questions.

But the air seemed suddenly to have become absolutely still, not a breath of wind stirred the leaves of the acacia trees, and all those soft sighings and mysterious whisperings which make the plain always appear so full of life were for the moment hushed. Only from far away came the murmur of the sluggish waters of the Maros, and from its shores the call of a heron to its mate.

"Now that he is dead." Stranger, if you should ever be driving on the main road between Szeged and Arad, tell your driver to pull up at the village of Marosfalva; its one broad street runs inland at right angles from the road; you will then have on your right two or three bits of meadowland overshadowed by willow trees, which slope down to the Maros; beyond the Maros lies the great plain the fields of maize and pumpkin, of hemp and sunflower.

And Erös Béla, walking arm-in-arm with Kapus Elsa on that warm Sunday afternoon, had talked much of Andor and of his untoward fate. The two young people had met outside the church after Benediction, they had strolled down as far as the Maros and back again into the village.

John Lapussa must needs call upon Mr. Sipos. He was wearing mourning in his hat and tried hard to lend his face a funereal appearance also. "Have you heard the news?" he asked. Mr. Sipos had heard nothing. "Don't you see the mourning in my hat? Alas! my poor niece, unhappy Henrietta!" "Well, what has happened?" "Hátszegi has been drowned in the Maros." "Impossible, he was a first-rate swimmer."

And then others come back about this time, those who have completed their three years, and they must be made welcome with dancing and music the things which a Hungarian peasant loves best in all the world. And as the days are still long and the evenings warm there are the strolls hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm after the dancing up the village street as far as the slowly-flowing Maros.