He turned the bridle of his horse toward the forest before him and disappeared among the trees.
The storm raged, the trees creaked in the wind, the rain fell and the swollen streams roared. The horizon was surrounded by steep rocks and at their feet in a pathless valley a rider stumbled along, who from the heights above looked like a mere ant. May God be gracious to him in this storm, at night, in such a place! It is Gregyina-Drakuluj.
Before our eyes is a splendid Oriental apartment, hundreds of wax candles are lighted, but the ceiling is too high for their gleam to reach; two rows of columns support the heavy architrave, slender columns with the heads of animals for capitals, such as are found in Persian temples. The space between the columns is hung with bright draperies, the walls are covered with arabesques. This was the hidden apartment of the Devil's Garden, and the one who dwelt here, woman, fairy or demon, was Azraele. Here she shaped the future, made endless plans, dreamed of power and battles, and new countries in which she should be queen, of new stars in which she should be the sun.
Suddenly she heard a sound as if some one had ridden over the vaulted ceiling: steps were heard in the passage adjoining and there were three knocks at the door. She sprang hurriedly from her couch, drew the heavy bolts and pulled open the door. There stood Dionysius Banfy, sad, silent and dispirited, with no greeting for this beautiful woman. A shiver passed over him. It is true he wore a tiger-skin over his usual clothing, but the heavy rain had penetrated it.
"You are wet through," said Azraele. "Warm yourself quickly. Come here and rest."
With these words she drew Banfy to a sofa, took off his cloak and covered him with her own lined with fur, and placed a cushion under his feet. But Banfy was cold and silent. His misfortune seemed written on his face even to a less keen eye and to a mind more free from suspicion than Azraele's. It could not be concealed that his proud features no longer bore the stamp of the lord in power but of a fallen king, whose fall had been the lower since his height was great; who had not come because he wished to leave all that was dear to him but because he was left by everybody. Not for all the world would Azraele have shown that she noticed the change in Banfy's face. She tripped off like a doe and came back bearing a great silver tray of gold drinking cups.
"Not the gold ones, they do not break when you throw them at the wall. Let us have our wine in Venetian crystal." He seized the first glass and said in bitter scorn, "This glass to my friends!" He drank it off and hurled it in contempt to the wall where it was shattered to pieces.
At once he seized a second. "This second glass to my enemies!" and emptying the glass he hurled it with mad laughter into the air. It went almost to the ceiling and when it fell dropped on a cushion, and did not break.