But what a state he was in, covered with dirt and dust; on his face traces of the awful night he had passed, sleepless and despairing, suffering the pangs of hunger. He hardly looked like a human being, and we (that is, my readers and I) who knew him years before would have looked in vain for the handsome, youthful face we remember. He was an elderly man now, with streaks of gray in his chestnut hair. Only the pleasant, amiable expression in his thin face was the same. He was surprised to see such a well-dressed young man before him—a rarity on the borders of the Glogova woods.
"How can I show you my gratitude?" he exclaimed, with a certain pathos which reminded one strongly of the pulpit.
He took a few steps in the direction of the stream, intending to wash his hands and face, but he stumbled and felt a sharp pain in his back.
"I must have hurt myself last night, when I fell, I cannot walk very well."
"Lean on me, your reverence," said Gyuri. "Luckily my carriage is not far off. János, you go on cutting down that tree, while we walk slowly on."
They certainly did go slowly, for the priest could hardly lift his left foot, and frequently stumbled over the roots of trees. The carriage was some way off, so they had plenty of time for conversation, and every now and then they sat down to rest on the trunk of a fallen tree.
"Tell me, your reverence, how did you come to be in this part of the country late at night?"
And then the priest related how he had expected his sister home yesterday, who had gone to meet her governess. As time went on, and there were no signs of them, he began to feel anxious, and toward evening became so restless that he did as he had often done before, and walked to the borders of the little wood. He walked on and on, finding the way by keeping his eye on the hills on both sides, and listened for the sounds of wheels in the distance. All at once it occurred to him that they might have gone round by the Pribalszky mill, which was a longer but prettier way to Glogova, and Veronica, his sister, was fond of the shade there. Of course that was what they had done, and they must have arrived at home long ago while he was looking for them. So the best way was to turn back at once, and in order to get home as soon as possible, he unfortunately struck across a side path. In his haste he must have stepped too near to the edge of the precipice and had fallen in.
"My poor little sister!" he sighed. "How anxious she must be about me!"
Gyuri would have liked to turn the priest's sorrow into joy.