"'I am wanting to come across Mr. Samson; I am tired of living on my own bread, and I should like to enter his service. If you belong to the castle, it would be better for you to take me to him, instead of attacking me; for I am not in the least afraid of you—and, what's more, a couple of chaps like you won't outwit me.'
"As soon as I had said my say with all possible speed, but in a firm rough voice, one of the scamps looked me all over from top to toe, as if he were going to buy me of a broker. The man was a sturdy, stout-limbed fellow, and as black as the darkest gipsy; and standing only a span from the muzzle of my pistol, without winking an eyelid, he said,—
"'Who are you, and what do you want with Mr. Samson? If you have come to spy, you may say your last prayer, for you won't see the sun again.'
"The man said this in such a soft, drawling voice, and so deliberately, that it suddenly struck me he was imbecile; for I had my finger on the trigger all the time, and one touch would have stretched him on the ground. However, I won't deny that his cool composure made me shudder a little.
"I answered as coolly as I could, 'I want to enter his service, sir, for I fancy he is a fine brave man; and a fellow like me, who cares nothing for his life, might be useful to him.'
"My man kept his eye upon my every movement. At last he said,—
"'I don't know who you are yet.'
"I hesitated half a moment, for I did not want to tell him my real name, and then I said they called me Alpár János, that I was an orphan, and that until now I had made a poor living by doing just anything that came to hand—which was true enough.
"As far as I could see in the twilight, the man's face began to clear; he whispered a few words to his companion in a language I did not know, Slovack or Latin, then looked me over again from top to toe, and said,—
"'Good! then you can come with us. We will show you the way in; it will be your own affair how you get out again, if you grow tired of scanty dinners.'