"Lord deliver us, if it isn't his lordship! And only just married now, eh!—after all these years! But which is the bride, your lordship? Surely not this one (pointing to Clementina) for she is an old dear!—and yet the other is but a child!"
The baron hastened to interrupt this uncalled-for outburst.
"Come, come, my good woman! No chatter now, please, for the hail will be upon us in a moment; but take these ladies into a room and see that it is clean and comfortable. Henrietta! pray get out of the rain."
The csárdá[10] woman kissed Henrietta's hand with great familiarity and kept on saying in a quavering voice: "Oh, thou tender little creature! to think of giving them to husbands so early!" cried she. But Clementina, who was always nervous in strange places, called the baron's attention to the fact that loud masculine voices were proceeding from somewhere within the csárdá.
[10] Inn.
"Have you anyone here now?" enquired the baron of the csárdá woman.
"Yes, three or four lads and Ripa. The old fellow has just been released from the prison at Arad. I don't know whether he served his full time. Pray walk in!"
"They are not robbers, are they?" asked Clementina hesitating.
"No, dear heart alive, there are no robbers in these parts, but only poor vagabonds. You will not find robbers nearer than the Bakony forest. These poor fellows hurt nobody, least of all ladies. I don't count old Ripa at all, but only the other three. It would be another thing if Blackey were here, for he is a fine gentleman and likes to amuse himself with the ladies. But don't think, dear soul, that his features are black, oh, dear, no! I call him 'Blackey' because he always wears a mask of black velvet lest he should be recognized, only his eyes and mouth are ever visible."
And with such comforting assurances she escorted Henrietta and Clementina up the narrow staircase.