But just as he turned away from Borka, he came face to face with Talabor; and Talabor actually had the impudence to cross-question him as to what he was about. He was not to be shaken off, moreover, and at last, apparently making a virtue of necessity, Libor confessed that he had given the maid a note for Mistress Dora; but he begged and implored Talabor not to betray him, for it would be the utter ruin of him if he did.
Of course he knew that it was most presumptuous that a poor young man like himself could ever aspire to the hand of a daughter of the Szirmays; they both knew that their attachment was hopeless, but—well, they had spent several years under the same roof, and had had opportunities of meeting, and—could not Mr. Talabor understand?
Mr. Talabor understood perfectly, inasmuch as his own admiration of Miss Dora had been growing ever since the first day he saw her. He had worshipped her as something far above him, as all that was good, upright, and honourable, and it was a shock to have it even suggested that she could condescend to underhand dealings with anyone. It was odd, too, if she really cared for Libor, that she should have received and behaved to him as she had done, and though Libor might protest that Master Peter had always shown him marked favour, Talabor was of opinion that he shared his own dislike to the young man, and had shown it pretty plainly.
"Master Peter ought to know what is going on," he said sturdily; but Libor thereupon became frantic in his entreaties. He implored, he positively writhed in his anguish, not for himself, oh no! what did it matter about a poor, insignificant fellow like him? it might ruin all his prospects with the Hédervárys, probably would, and he should not even be able to return to Master Stephen; he should be a vagabond, and beggar—but that was no matter of course compared with Mistress Dora! She would be ruined in the eyes of the world if it came abroad that she had stooped to care for such as he, and it was certain to get about if Talabor betrayed them. Whereas now no one but themselves and Borka knew anything about it; and she was faithful, she would not open her lips, for he had made it worth her while to keep silence.
"An odd sort of fidelity," it seemed to Talabor; but he was not quite clear as to whether it were his business to interfere; and, if it were, to injure Mistress Dora——
Libor saw his advantage and pressed it. He reminded Talabor that Master Peter was hasty, and so incautious when his wrath was aroused that some one would be sure to hear of it; he would certainly tell his brother, Master Stephen would dismiss himself, and—well, the whole thing would come out. Dora would be scorned by the world, and—besides, this was probably his last visit; he was going to a distance, and what was more, they had both realised that their attachment must be given up—it was hopeless.
"If it can't be, it can't!" said Libor, with a deep-drawn sigh.
He threw himself upon Talabor's mercy, and Talabor promised.
"But remember," said he, "it is only because speaking might do more harm than good, as you are not coming again, but if ever you do, and I catch you tampering with Borka, I go straight to Master Peter."
"If I come, and if you catch me, so you may!" said Libor, with a sneer.