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Updated: May 5, 2025
"It seems to you silly, but Chunda Lal is of the East; and he has promised. Oh! be quick! I am afraid. I tell you something. Fo-Hi does not know, but the police Inspector and many men search the river bank for the house! I see them from a window " "What!" cried Stuart "Dunbar is here!" "Ssh! ssh!" Miska clutched him wildly. "He is not far away. You will go and bring him here.
When Franz again heard Tzigany music it was under very different circumstances. A fete was given by a Hungarian gentleman, of which this music was to be one of the attractions, the most distinguished performers being Farkas Miska and Remenyi Ede.
"We do not know how much they read of what he had written. Why do we wait?" "He has some plan, Chunda Lal," replied Miska wearily. "Does he ever fail?" Her words rekindled the Hindu's ardour; his eyes lighted up anew. "I tell you his plan," he whispered tensely. "Oh! you shall hear me! He watch you grow from a little lovely child, as he watch his death-spiders and his grey scorpions grow!
The ants shall pick your bones!" He grasped the upstanding door of the trap and closed it. It descended with a reverberating boom. Fo-Hi raised his clenched fists and stepped to the door. Finding it locked, he stood looking toward the open screen before the window. "Miska!" he whispered despairingly.
"There is one frailty, Miska, that even the Adept cannot conquer. It is inherent in every man. Miska, I would not force you to grasp the joy I offer; I would have you accept it willingly. No! do not turn from me! No woman in all the world has ever heard me plead, as I plead to you. Never before have I sued for favours. Do not turn from me, Miska."
The huge ball of cotton, inside of which, according to the placard hanging at the top of the bed, was hidden the head of First Lieutenant of the Reserves, Otto Kadar, of the th Regiment of Field Artillery, sank back on the pillow, and Miska seated himself again on his knapsack, snuffed up his tears, put his head between his big unwashed hands, and speculated despairingly about his future.
Suddenly, from somewhere outside the room, came the sound of dull, regular blows ... then, a smothered moan! Miska sprang forward and threw herself upon her knees before Fo-Hi, clutching at his robe frantically. "Ah! merciful God! he is there! Spare him! spare him! No more no more!" "He is there?" repeated Fo-Hi suavely. "Assuredly he is there, Miska.
Chunda Las started also, but almost immediately smiled and his smile was tender as a woman's. "It is the voice of the black smoke that speaks, Miska. We are alone. Those are dead men speaking from their tombs." "Ah-Fang-Fu is in the shop," whispered Miska. "And there he remain." "But what of ... him!" Miska pointed toward the eastern wall of the room in which they stood.
The name of Miska Hauser is seldom mentioned in these days, and yet it was once known all over the world. No virtuoso of his time travelled more extensively, and few created more enthusiasm than did Hauser. He was born in Pressburg, Hungary, in 1822, and became a pupil of Böhm and of Mayseder at Vienna, also of Kreutzer and Sechter.
But Master Jock not only did not laugh at these funny things, but actually took Miska Horhi to task for making such a blockhead of himself, and bade him divert himself more decently in future.
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