"Did he say anything about Veronica?"
"You shall hear in a minute. While he was wrapping up the rings he went on talking. How had he got to know the priest's sister? 'I was in Glogova last year.' 'And what the devil were you doing in Glogova?' 'Why, the villagers were having a silver handle made here for a wretched-looking old umbrella, which they keep in their church, and the stupid things were afraid to send the umbrella here for fear any one should steal it, though it was not worth twopence; so I was obliged to go there in order to fasten the handle on.'"
"Why, this is dreadful!" exclaimed Gyuri, turning pale.
Sztolarik smiled.
"That is only why I said, my friend, that we had better wait a bit before deciding anything."
"Let us go at once to Father János and ask him to show us the umbrella."
He could not wait a minute longer. He had been so near to his object, and now it was slipping from him again, like a Fata Morgana, which lures the wanderer on to look for it.
It was easy to find the priest; he was feeding his pigeons in the garden.
"Father János," began Gyuri, "now Mr. Sztolarik is here he would like to look at your wonderful umbrella. Can we see it?"
"Of course. Mrs. Adamecz," he called out to the old woman, who was plucking a fowl at the kitchen door, "will you bring me out the key of the church, please?"