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Updated: May 17, 2025
The parson was evidently still awake, his voice resounded from within the house: "All good spirits praise the Lord!" "Amen! 'Tis I who am at the door. Let me in reverend father." The priest immediately opened the door and, full of amazement, asked Mr. Gerzson what had happened. "Read that!" said Gerzson handing him the letter and lighting him with the lamp.
It was indispensable that they should stay the night here, for if they passed Hidvár they would have to go on the whole night before they reached the next stage or come to grief on the road, which was much more probable. "You will stop in front of the castle!" commanded Mr. Gerzson when they were crossing the castle bridge. The coachman looked back and shook his head. He did not like it at all.
"No more than Fatia Negra deserves," replied Mr. Gerzson with a sombre grimace. "Is your wife up and dressed?" "I fancy she lay down ready dressed." "All the better. It'll be as well if we start early." "I hear the opening and closing of doors in her apartments, no doubt your ringing disturbed her. She will be here in an instant, for she is very impatient." "That is only natural."
Why, comrade, where have you been in hiding all this time?" "A truce to jesting," cried Gerzson fiercely. "Tell me all you know about it, for it is no joking matter for me, I can assure you."
The baroness, sitting by the bedside, heard from the doctor that her husband's wounds were serious, but that his life was not in danger, and that he might even be allowed to smoke a cigar if he liked. Then Mr. Gerzson related how it had happened: "Only imagine, your ladyship!
About midnight the coachman will arrive with the fresh relay of horses. Won't your ladyship rest a little in the adjoining room?" Henrietta shook her head. "Well, I suppose you are right. How indeed could you remain all alone in the room of a suicide? Let us stay together then and tell each other tales." "Yes, that will be nice, and I'll begin by telling papa Gerzson something."
"My dear lady," said he, "you eat so little that if I were a day labourer I could easily support you on my wages." The company laughed aloud at this. The idea of a day labourer with such hands and feet as that! Then Gerzson proceeded to relate to them the exploits or misadventures in which his various limbs had more or less come to grief.
Gerzson wrapped his bunda round his shoulders and went towards the bee-house, but the priest returned to his chamber, blew out the light, lay down fully dressed on his bed, took up his rosary and fell a-praying like one who does not expect to see the dawn of another day. He knew his man; he knew what was coming.
Why, everyone there can now sleep with open doors and if you yourself were to lie dead drunk in the public thoroughfare you would not have your money stolen from your pocket any more." Squire Gerzson protested vehemently against the assumption that he was in the habit of sprawling tipsily on the king's high road. "I'll tell you," said he, "why everything is so secure just now.
Drahhowecz and Muntya, and Harastory, and Brinkó, and Bandán, and Kerakoricz, and . . ." "That will do," interrupted Mr. Gerzson, aghast at so many odd, strange names not one of which he had ever heard of before. "New comers, I suppose?"
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