But the moment Talabor appeared with his flaming torch they were cowed, turned tail, and tumbled, rather than ran, down the steps in a panic. Head over heels they rushed towards the gate, some of the hindmost getting their tails singed as they fled.
Meantime the two strangers seeing the enemy thus put to flight, took courage, and thought apparently to complete the rout, for they rushed off after the retreating wolves and were for pursuing them even beyond the gate, when they were checked by a shout from Talabor, who called to them to stop.
They stood still, up to their waists in snow, and looked at him, wondering and half doubting who and what he might be.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Magyars! infelices captivi—Unfortunate captives," answered the learnèd one.
"We are Magyars!" said the other in Hungarian.
"If you are Magyars, follow me," said Talabor, and the strangers obeyed.
It was dark no longer, but still it was difficult to judge of the men by their looks, for they wore the rough Tartar hoods over their heads, and the one who had been mauled by the wolf had his hanging about his face in lappets and ribbons.
Talabor could see just so much as this, that neither was very young, that both were wasted to the last degree, and that they were as begrimed as if they had been hung up to dry in the smoke for some weeks.
"Come along, come along!" he said, for he was anxious to get back to Dora, and to make up the fire again. Should he take them into, the warmer inner room, or keep them in the other until he knew more about them? He was still undecided what to do when a sudden exclamation from one of the wanderers, followed by the fervent words, "Glory be to Jesus!" startled him.