How to escape was my first impulse; but seeing this was impossible, my next was to put a brave face on the matter.
"Well, nephew," said my uncle, twisting his moustache; "red, stammering, out of breath—eh? So you visit here, do you?"
What could I answer? I was not fool enough to say I had come to visit Esztike; and should I say I was visiting Mistress Debora—she may be his wife, I thought, and then he will shoot me through the head!
"I know your errand," continued my uncle, pertinaciously holding the handle of the door. "Storms and thunder! don't think to put your fingers in my eyes! Ten thousand fiery devils! if ever you dare to come within my door again, I swear by the woods of Karpath that I will make leather belts of your skin!"
"Thank you, uncle," I replied, delighted to get off so easily, as, once more commending me to the devil, he entered, and shut the door behind him; while I heard his allegorical phrases—or, as an impartial world would call them, his oaths—echoing wrathfully through the house.
What was to be done? I found myself just where I had been before the death of the cat.
I now considered it prudent to avoid the dogs.
From this day forward, I had very seldom an opportunity of seeing Esztike, except across our gardens; and even then, I exposed myself to the danger of being shot through the head, if my uncle should see me.
On one occasion Esztike gave me to understand by signs, that she dared not approach nearer. I pointed to the attic windows, which my little sweetheart understood at once; and from that day we frequently carried on a pantomimic conversation from our attics. I often laugh when I think how much we contrived to say, and how quickly we comprehended each other's gestures.
One day I heard that my uncle had set out on a long journey, and that the dogs had been tied up, which none would have dared to do till the old man had fairly erased the frontiers of the county.