The priest hastily quitted Gerzson and returned towards the forest, while the latter went on to the little town, where he speedily got post horses.
When now he found himself sitting all safe and sound, in the carriage, it suddenly struck him how remarkably odd it was that he and the parson should have actually fled away from a non-existent danger. How they would laugh at him from one end of the kingdom to the other! Suppose Henrietta had been playing a practical joke upon him! But then, on the other hand, Henrietta was not of that sort—so he consoled himself.
But there was another thing which bothered him a good deal. The coachman had been left behind with the four horses and would not know what to make of the disappearance of his master and the priest. When, however, the post chaise stopped in front of his house at Arad who should he see coming to meet him through the gate but this very coachman whose astonishment at the meeting was even greater than his master's. And then, to the amazement of the postillion, master and servant fell upon each other's necks and embraced each other again and again.
"Come into the house," said Mr. Gerzson at last, "and tell me what befell you. I don't want you to bellow it out here before all the world."
"I hardly know how to put it, sir, but I will tell it you as best I can. After watering the horses, I lay down and went to sleep. A loud neighing suddenly awoke me and, looking around, I saw a great light. The parson's house was all in flames. Up I was in a jiffy and ran to the door to call your honour but I found the door was locked from the inside. I then ran to the windows and found that the shutters were nailed down over them. What horrified me most of all, however, was that nobody came from the castle to put the fire out. Then I began to roar for help and while I was roaring and running up and down looking for an axe with which to batter in the door—'burum! burum!' I heard two shots and the bullets whistled to the right and left about my ears. At that all my pluck went down to my heels; I rushed under the shelter of the barn, cut the tether ropes of the horses, swung myself up on to the saddle horse, driving the others before me, and trotted into Arad without once stopping to water them."
So he had reached home more quickly than Squire Gerzson himself.
"Well, my son," said Gerzson, "all that you have told me is gospel truth I have no doubt, but say not a word of it to anybody, or else . . ." (and here he uttered the threat which the ordinary Hungarian common folk fear most of all)—"or else the affair will come before the courts and you will have to give testimony on oath."
After that he was sure of the fellow's silence.