When the worthy steward had withdrawn, the Nabob sent for his fiskal, or family lawyer, who found him looking out of the window, motionless, with his hands behind his back.
The fiskal stood and waited for his master to turn round. He waited a good half-hour, but the Nabob turned round at last, and said to his man of business, "Pray sit down, sir, and write."
An unusual embarrassment was observable in the Nabob's voice, which would certainly have surprised anybody else but the fiskal.
"My dear younger brother," old Kárpáthy began to dictate, "inasmuch as you are living at present in this realm, and I do not wish the name of Kárpáthy to be slighted on this particular day when I have made peace with all who ever angered me, therefore I now, as becometh a kinsman, offer my hand to you also, my younger brother,[8] in the hope that you will not reject it; and I, at the same time, send you, my younger brother, two hundred thousand florins, which you shall receive from me, so long as I live, from year to year. And I hope that henceforth we shall continue to be good kinsmen."
[8] Öcse, a familiar and affectionate salutation from an elder to a younger kinsman.
The old man's eyes were wet while he recited these words, and if a more sympathetic man than
the fiskal had been present, there might have been something like a tender scene.
"Wrap it up and write on the outside: To the Honourable Bélá Kárpáthy of Kárpát, at Pressburg. A stable lad must mount a horse at once, and deliver this letter personally."
Then he gave a great sigh of relief, as if two hundred thousand stones had been lifted from his heart with these two hundred thousand florins. He had never felt so happy as he was at that moment.
How Abellino received this noble disposition to stretch out the right hand of fellowship and forgiveness, we shall see presently.