It was past ten o'clock before the small party broke up. During the latter part of the time it had been Rosemary's turn to become silent. Maurus started the subject of politics, and Jasper carried on a desultory argument with him on that inexhaustible question. In almost weird contrast to his previous calmness, Maurus' violent temper broke out once or twice during the course of the discussion, and it needed all Jasper's tact and Rosemary's soothing influence to steer clear of all that tended to aggravate him. It was the real man peeping through the armour of all the previous unnatural self-control, the gipsy blood reasserting itself—self-willed, obstinate, impatient of control, bitter against humiliation. Rosemary almost welcomed the change when it came. It was more like the Maurus she knew—a man eccentric and violent, walking close to, but not overstepping the borderland that separates the sane from the insane. It was only when Philip, or Elza, or Kis-Imre were mentioned that he seemed to step over that borderland, encased in an armour of impish indifference.
The soldier-chauffeur brought the car round at eleven o'clock. Rosemary took affectionate leave of Maurus.
"We meet very soon," she said. "In Hungary."
"Yes," he replied. "In Hungary. I shall be so thankful to be there."
He also shook hands very cordially with Jasper.
"I am afraid this has not been a very agreeable stay for you," he said.
"Better luck next time," Jasper responded, as he settled himself down in the car beside his wife.
The car swung out of the gates. Rosemary, looking back, had a last vision of Maurus, standing under the electric lamp in the porch, his hand waving a last farewell.
[CHAPTER XXXIX]
Rosemary must have fallen asleep in the corner of the carriage, for she woke with a start. The train had come to a halt, as it had done at two or three stations since Cluj was left behind. So it was not the sudden jerk or the sound of the exhaust from the engine, that had caused Rosemary suddenly to sit up straight, wide-awake and with that vague feeling of apprehension which comes on waking when sleep has been unconsciousness rather than rest. Jasper sat in the other corner with eyes closed, but Rosemary did not think that he was asleep. They had a sleeping compartment, but hadn't had the beds made up; it was perhaps less restful for the night journey, but distinctly cleaner. The carriage was in semi-darkness, only a feeble ray of blue light filtered through the shade that tempered the gas-light up above.