"Let us not part from each other in tears," continued the old man, "let us rejoice as they rejoice who have found again those whom they fancied they had lost, and now let me bless you as a father may bless his son when he is about to undertake a long journey."
And then he placed his trembling hands on his son's head, while his eyes looked up to Heaven, and his dumb lips murmured an inaudible prayer to the Lord of life and death.
"And now, my son, brace yourself up for your long journey!"
But Maria came rushing towards them.
"To work, my friend! bear a hand! The evil game has begun. Let us but gain half an hour and all our lives will be saved."
"Who is that apparition," whispered old Hétfalusy to his son, "who has twice descended from Heaven to save us?"
Imré looked with some hesitation at Maria, the girl gazed back at him encouragingly.
"Yes, tell him! Why not? I am your wife, the famous Maria Kamienszka, and this is not the first time I have been in the midst of a scrimmage. Courage, my father, your son is now in your embrace, and in half an hour your grand-daughter will be there also. Trust in God and be not faint-hearted!"
"Ah, yes!" whispered the old man, with a transfigured countenance and a voice full of enthusiasm, "this cannot be the hour of my death, no, my God! it cannot, cannot be!"
The youth and the valiant young woman then warmly pressed each other's hands, and hastened back to their posts. It was indeed high time.