"No I won't. I prefer to go out and have a turn in the open air and get the cobwebs out of my head. I'll have a look round outside a bit."
And with that he planted both his arms on the table, laid his head upon them and fell fast asleep.
Henrietta could not help smiling. Poor old gentleman, he had had a good deal of exertion and no doubt that wine was uncommonly strong. Let him rest a bit. He had had no sleep the night before. It would be quite sufficient if one of them kept awake.
Then she took up the lamp and went out into the hall observing to her great satisfaction that the door thereof was provided with a good lock. So she locked and fastened it. With timid curiosity she then explored every corner with the lamp and came upon nothing suspicious. Finally she returned to the guest room, locked the door of that also and placed the carriage lamp on the table, turning its shade towards the sleeping old man so that he might not be awakened by the glare of the lamp; and there she remained all alone, watching in the csárdá of the desolate puszta, patiently waiting for the night to pass over her homeless head.
So patient was she that only once did she take her watch from her bosom to see what the time was.
It was now past midnight.
She began to calculate how long it would take the coachman to get to Oroshaza and how much time he would require to reach this place. If he had got horses at once he ought to be near now.
A short time afterwards she heard the tread of horses' feet in the courtyard. Those must be our horses, thought she, and hastening to the window looking out upon the courtyard, she pulled the blind a little to one side and looked out.
The night was so light outside that she could see the four horses quite plainly in the courtyard—but she observed that a man was sitting on each of them.