"They are always there, dear mother, always before me! I see their dear, dear faces every moment!—oh! why must I outlive them?"
"That you may make others happy, dear child; perhaps, even that you may be a comfort and joy to me in my old age."
Mária threw her arms round the old lady and embraced her warmly.
"Dear, dear mother! how good you are to me! Don't think me ungrateful for what the good God has given me in place of those whom I have lost. Yes, I wish to live, and I will live, if God wills, to thank you for your love, and to love you for a long time. But if you see me sad sometimes, don't forget, good mother, how much I have lost! and—I am afraid, I am afraid! I have only one left to lose besides you, dear mother, and if—if—I don't know how I could go on living then——"
Just then two or three men appeared in the passage leading up from the mouth of the cave, and Mária went back to her stool.
Night had fallen, the men had been engaged in making all safe as usual by barricading the entrance with large pieces of rock, but they had suddenly left their work and were hurrying up to the cavern.
"Someone is coming, Mária! or—but no, we won't think any evil, God is here with us!"
"Mistress Aunt!" said the first of the men, bowing low, "we have brought you a visitor, a great man, Canon Roger, who has but lately escaped from the Mongols, and there are three others, strangers, with him. Leonard here found them all nearly exhausted and not knowing which way to turn."
"Well done, nephew! I'm glad you found them," said Orsolya, "theeing and thouing" him, as she did everyone belonging to her little community. "Roger—Roger," she went on, "I seem to remember the name—why, of course, Italian, isn't he? and lived with my nephew Stephen at one time?"
"Bring them in! bring them in!" she cried eagerly; and in a few moments Father Roger and his companions appeared before the "lady of the castle."