A look of joy lighted up the young girl's face when the beginning of the letter met her eyes. "That is really his writing,—'My dear mother.'"
"There, didn't I tell, you so!" declared the other in triumph.
But, as when a cloud suddenly passes over the sun, Aranka's bright face lost its radiance the next moment.
"What is it this time?" asked the baroness.
"Only those first three words are in his hand; the rest is written by some one else, and in French."
"By some one else? Oh, read quickly!"
The letter trembled in the girl's hands. "'Dear madam,'" she read; "'forgive the well-meant deception committed by me on the cover of this letter. To spare you unnecessary alarm, I have imitated my friend's handwriting—for which I must go to the galleys if you betray me. Ödön wished to write himself, but after the first three words the pen fell from his hand. He is still very weak. Don't be alarmed, however. He was in great danger, but is now happily on the road to recovery. In two weeks more he will be able to resume his journey.'"
"He was in great danger!" exclaimed the anxious mother. "Oh, read on, read on!" Despite her own agitation, she did not fail to note how deeply the girl was affected. Aranka was forced to use the utmost self-command in order to go on with the letter.
"'I will write you everything without reserve, just as it occurred. When Ödön received your letter calling him home, he dropped everything and hastened to set out. I resolved to accompany him as far as the border, but would that I had not! Then he would have stopped over at Smolensk, and would not have been overtaken by a snow-storm; we should not have been chased by wolves and compelled to save our lives by skating for two hours down the Dnieper.
"'Your son Ödön, my dear madam, is a son to be proud of. When one of my skates came off in the course of our headlong flight, and I was left helpless by the accident, he turned, single-handed, against our pursuers, and, with dagger and pistols, warded them off while I buckled on my skate again. He killed four of the pack, and I owe it to him that I am now alive.'"