Anna took up the lantern, which she hid under her cloak, and, all three clinging together, we hastened to the postern as noiselessly as shadows. The snow fell, but the wind had all subsided, and the air was now so still that the cold struck no chill.
Outside the postern, seeing no one in sight, we paused.
“I have told János to be at the bottom of the lane,” said I to Anna, as she pocketed the key after turning the lock. And then to my wife, who hung close and silent to my arm: “It is but a little way, and then you shall rest.”
Even as I spoke I turned to lead her, but Anna arrested me:
“I have thought better,” she said. “To leave the town in a carriage is dangerous. I have arranged otherwise.”
I was about, I believe, to protest, or at least discuss, when Ottilie, who had hitherto permitted herself to be led whither I would, like one in a dream, suddenly cried to me in an urgent undertone to let Anna have her way: “Believe me,” she said, “you will not repent it.” I would have gone anywhere at the command of that voice.
“It shall be so,” said I; “but there is János, and we cannot leave him in the lurch.”
“No, we must have János with us,” said Anna; “but that is easy. Follow me, children.” And uncovering her lantern, with her skirts well kilted up, she preceded us with fearless strides to the secluded turn at the bottom of the lane, where, true to his promise, I found the heiduck and his conveyance.
For the greater security the lamps of the carriage had not been lit, but we could see its bulk rise in denser black against the gloom before us, and feel the warmth of the horses steam out upon us, with a pleasant stable odour, into the purity of the air.
There was a rapid colloquy between our two old servants. János, the cunning fox! at once and appreciatively agreed to Anna’s superior plan of action, and indeed his old campaigner’s wits promptly went one better than the peasant’s shrewdness: instead of merely dismissing the carriage as she suggested, he bade the coachman drive out by the East Gate of the town and, halting at Gleiwitz, await at the main hostelry there the party that would come on the morrow. And in the dark I could see him emphasise the order by the transfer of some pieces, that clicked knowingly in the night silence. The point of the manœuvre, however, was only manifest to me when, turning to follow Anna’s lead again down a side alley, the fellow breathed into my ear with a chuckle: