"I am Kutschuk Pasha. Since my road lay through this country I have come to speak with you, if you have time."
"Your servant," replied Beldi, giving his guest precedence as he showed him to the castle salon. It was a square room, with the walls painted in Oriental landscapes; in the spaces between the windows were great mirrors in metal frames; the marble floor was covered over with large, bright rugs; on the walls above the windows were portraits and trophies of old weapons of strange shapes and settings; in the centre of the room was a large table of green marble, with claw feet, and here and there easy chairs upholstered in leather, with heavy carvings. Opposite the entrance a door led to the terrace from which was a wide view of the snow-covered mountains. The evening light streaming through the painted glass cast a bright reflection over the faces of the men as they entered.
"In what way can I serve you?" asked Beldi.
"You are well aware," replied Kutschuk, "that at present there is a great division in the country over the princely succession in Transylvania."
"That does not concern me and I do not intend to take sides with either party," answered Beldi, guardedly.
"I did not come here to ask you for help or advice in this affair. The question is to be settled by the sword. What has brought me to you is purely a family affair and concerns me and me only."
Beldi, in amazement, bade his guest be seated and said to him, "Speak."
"You may have heard that there was once here in Transylvania a Mademoiselle Kallay, who fell in love with a young Turk and became his wife; naturally, without the knowledge or consent of her parents."
"I do know about it. They used to say that the young Turk knew as well how to conquer a woman's heart as a foe on the battlefield."
"Perhaps so. Conquests in war have meantime effaced the traces of love from his cheeks. As you see, my face is crossed this way and that with scars. For the man who married that woman stands before you."