"Yes, you old swine, and drink up every drop of wine that remains in the meantime."
"Your pardon, sir, but it all turned to vinegar when the landlady killed herself. That is always the case."
"None of your nonsense, Sirrah, but listen to me. There's a shilling for you, forget for the time that you are a guest here. Take out the horses, put them into the stable, give them hay at once and water them in about an hour's time. Don't steal them for they are lame and you would be caught at once. We shall remain here till our coachman returns with four fresh horses. Should any troublesome person look in, you may tell him that the consort of Baron Hátszegi is here and that Gerzson of Satrakovics is mounting guard before her door."
Old Ripa kissed her ladyship's hand without so much as thanking Squire Gerzson for his tip, but he quietly unyoked the horses and brought into the house some of the things he found in the coach.
And Henrietta stood once more in the landlady's room and gazed pensively out of the window. Her meditations were presently disturbed by Squire Gerzson.
"My dear good lady," he began, "fate has certainly sworn to be our enemy in every possible way to-day. I would not have believed it myself if I had not actually experienced it. First of all, all our four horses fall lame on the road. Then, at the very place where we decide to take up our quarters, we find that the landlady has jumped down the well. Truly fate pursues us with a vengeance. But we'll defy it, won't we my lady? Fate is very much mistaken if it fancies it will get the better of us, eh? it does not know with whom it has to deal, I'll be bound. For our hearts are in the right place and we'll pretty soon show that we have not lost our heads. Our greatest misfortune is that the fine supper we promised ourselves has vanished to dust beneath our very noses. Never mind. We have brought with us in our knapsack, after the custom of our ancestors, some good ham, some hung beef and some white loaves, to say nothing of a flask of prime wine; we don't mean to starve ourselves do we, my lady?"
The good old gentleman then took out of his knapsack all these good things and piled them up on the table, then he fetched the carriage lamp to light up the room a bit and politely invited Henrietta to partake of his simple banquet.
The young lady smilingly took her place on the bench.
"We really cannot drink the water here, your ladyship," said Gerzson, handing her his flask; "to all appearance nobody will ever drink the water out of the well of this shanty again. Such wells are generally walled up."
Merely to oblige the old man, Henrietta raised the flask to her lips and pretended to drink out of it so as not to spoil her companion's good humour, but really she drank not a drop. She never used to drink wine and wiped off the drops that remained on her lips with her pocket handkerchief. Nor did she eat anything except an apple which was just sufficient to keep the pangs of hunger off.