Master Boltay gave way, led the gentleman into the innermost apartment, made him sit down, and remained standing before him to hear what he had to say.
"First of all," said the old gentleman, regarding the master-carpenter with a comical smile—"first of all, allow me to introduce myself. I will begin by saying that I bear a name which will not be exactly music to your ear. I am John Kárpáthy. Yes! out with the oath that hangs on your lips as loudly and soundly as you like! I know very well that it is not meant for me, but for my nephew, whose name is Bélá, but who, fool as he is, has re-christened himself Abellino. You have good cause to curse him, for he has brought misfortune to your house."
"Not yet, sir," said Boltay, "and I hope to God he will not bring it."
"I hope so too; but, alas! the devil never slumbers, especially when pretty girls are about. My nephew has taken upon himself the glorious resolution of seducing your ward."
"I know it, sir; but I am on my guard."
"My good sir, you know not half the artful tricks of the young bucks who have served an apprenticeship in the great world before engaging in such enterprises."
"Stop, sir! One thing I do know. I know that, all because of your nephew, she is condemned to a cloister-like life, and cannot so much as step into the street unless I am with her. And when, at last, I have had too much of this persecution, I will leave my workshop, I will go into another part of the world, I will quit my country, which I love as well as, ay, and ever so much better than, many of those who call themselves the fathers of the fatherland. But till then, sir, till then, never let me catch hold of any of these painted butterflies! I am not a gentleman, I will fight no duel; but I'll smash whomsoever comes in my way—I'll smash 'em like a piece of rotten glass. Just tell that to your dear nephew!"
"Pardon me, my friend, but I am not in the habit of carrying messages to my nephew, neither have I come hither merely to gossip, but to carry out a well-devised thoroughly thought-out plan. I hate this man more than you do. You need not shake your head like that, for so it is. Abellino is my mortal foe, and I am his. You will better understand the amicable relations between us when I tell you that he wishes me to die, and I will not consent, and as in all probability my road to death is much shorter than his, the contest is conducted with very unequal weapons. On my birthday he sent me a coffin as a present, in the expectation
that I should make use of it as speedily as possible. Now his birthday is approaching, and I am going to send him, as a present, a beggar's staff, and I hope he will live a long time to use it."