"If they perished on the spot, Sirrah, what business is it of yours? When one pursues the enemy in time of war, does one think of food or fodder?"—whence the coachman concluded that there was some one whom the squire meant to cut to pieces.
It was only when they came to the road leading to Hidvár that the coachman began to suspect that they were about to go in that direction. It was now the evening of the second day and both man and beast were tired to death. It was indispensable that they should stay the night here, for if they passed Hidvár they would have to go on the whole night before they reached the next stage—or come to grief on the road, which was much more probable.
"You will stop in front of the castle!" commanded Mr. Gerzson when they were crossing the castle bridge.
The coachman looked back and shook his head. He did not like it at all.
"Shan't we turn into the castle yard?" enquired he.
"No!" bellowed Squire Gerzson, so venomously that the "why not?" he was about to say, stuck in the poor coachman's throat like a fish-bone.
"Now listen to me," said Gerzson, when they had fairly got across to the other side: "Keep your eyes open and try and take in what I am going to say to you. I don't know how long I may remain inside there—possibly some time. At any rate you must not loiter about here with the horses but go on to the priest and beg him, civilly, mind, to kindly accommodate my nags in his stable and give them two bushels of maize. As soon as I return I'll settle with him, but don't say anything about payment, or else you will offend him. Kiss his hand, for he is a priest and you are only a lazy vagabond. If you hear no news of me by to-morrow morning, put the horses into the carriage again and return to Arad where Count Kengyelesy will tell you what to do next."
Then he turned upon his heel and set off towards the castle.
It was already evening. In the upper story seven of the windows were lit up and the moon shone into the eighth. That was Henrietta's bedroom. Squire Gerzson knew it. He was quite at home in the castle.
At the hall entrance he encountered Leonard's huntsman, an impertinent, bony, jowly loafer whom he had never been able to endure. The fellow barred the way.