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Updated: June 17, 2025
Everything went to prove that St. Peter had been in Glogova lately. After all it was no common case. The only real mystery in the whole affair was how the umbrella had come to be spread over little Veronica's basket; but that was enough to make the umbrella noted.
They got into the carriage, the two ladies on the back seat, and Gyuri on the box with the coachman, but his face turned toward the ladies. Whether he would hold out in that uncomfortable position till Glogova remained to be seen.
"It is really a blessing," he murmured, "that the child did not get wet through; she might have caught her death of cold, and I could not even have given her dry clothes." But where had the umbrella come from? It was incomprehensible, for in the whole of Glogova there was not a single umbrella. In the next yard some peasants were digging holes for the water to run into.
"To Glogova," said Gyuri to the coachman, and János cracked his whip and the horses started, but hardly were they out of the yard, when the mayor's wife came tripping after them, calling out to them at the top of her voice to stop. They did so, wondering what had happened. But nothing serious was the matter, only Mrs.
Well, now listen to me, Gyuri, for I have something to tell you." "I am listening." But his thoughts were elsewhere, as he drummed on the table with his fingers. You know him?" Yes, Gyuri remembered him. "I told him to give me two rings, and he asked whom they were for. So I said they were going a good distance. Then he asked where to, and I told him to Glogova.
Well, among the Kvet mountains I met a tinker walking beside his cart, a very chatty man he seemed to be. I asked him, as I did every one we met, if he had not seen an old Jew about there lately. 'Yes, he answered, 'I saw him a few weeks ago in Glogova during a downpour of rain; he was spreading an umbrella over a child on the veranda of a small house, and when he had done so he moved on."
If you would promise a reward for any information, in an hour's time you will have plenty, I am sure. In a small village like Glogova, every one knows everything." "It is quite unnecessary," replied the lawyer, "for I am going to Glogova myself. Thanks all the same." "Oh, sir, it is I who have to thank you; you have behaved in a princely fashion. Fifty florins for such a trifle!
Gyuri blew out the light and lay down again under the big eider-down quilt, and imagined he saw the corpse Mr. Mravucsán had spoken of, hanging from a tree, waving from side to side in the wind, and nodding its head at him, saying: "Oh, yes, Mr. Wibra, you'll be well laughed at in the parish of Glogova." "Never mind," thought he, "the umbrella is mine after all.
Of course now and then a falling tree in the woods strikes one or the other dead; or an accident happens to a cart, and the driver is killed. You may reckon a year with eight deaths a good one as far as you are concerned." "But they don't all belong to the priest," said the nabob of Glogova, smoothing back his hair. "Why, how is that?" asked the priest.
On he raced, but as he passed the gingerbread stall, Móricz Müncz stood before him again. "Excuse me for running after you," he exclaimed breathlessly, "but it suddenly occurred to me that I might give you a word of advice, which is this. There are a good many people from Glogova here at the fair, so you really might get the crier to go round and find out if they know anything of the umbrella.
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