She did as she was asked, and the priest, going on in front, led his visitors through the church.
"This way, gentlemen, into the sacristy."
As they stepped in there it was before them! Pál Gregorics's old umbrella smiled at them, and seemed like an old friend, only the handle, yes, the handle was unknown to them, for it was of silver.
Gyuri gazed at it speechlessly, and felt that the end was near. A demon was behind him, constantly urging him on, and whispering: "Go on, go on, and look for your inheritance!" A second demon ran on before him, beckoning and crying: "Come along, it is this way!"
But there was a third one, the liveliest of all, who followed in the wake of the second one, and each time Gyuri thought he had attained his end, this demon turned round, and laughed in his face, saying: "There is nothing here!"
Sztolarik kept his countenance, and carefully examined the handle of the umbrella, as though he were admiring the work.
"Had it always this same handle?" he asked.
"Oh dear no, this is of real silver, and very finely chased. The jeweller in Besztercebánya made it, and he is quite an artist. Just look at the style, and what taste is displayed in it. My parishioners had it made last summer as a surprise for me while I was away at the baths. The old handle had been broken off, and it was almost impossible to make use of the umbrella. I expect it was Klincsok's idea, for he started the collection. There are still plenty of good Christian hearts to be found."
Then he turned to Gyuri.
"I will introduce you to Klincsok, he is a very worthy man."