Mathias Kracskó did as he was bidden; he went off, and returned shortly with an empty municipal cash-box under his cloak.
Mr. Zabváry had his own box ready, sealed not only at the lock, but at the four corners.
"Here it is. Hide it away by all means, and directly the commission is off our track you can restore it to me again. And give me your written promise to give it me back as soon as I ask for it. For it's a sad world, and we are the only two honest men left in it."
So the notary signed the document, tucked the chest of savings under his cloak, and hid it carefully away.
Mathias Ráby was taking his way to Szent-Endre to attend the inquiry into the municipal scandals. On the road he met his uncle, who appeared to be looking for someone.
"Halloa, uncle! what are you waiting for?"
"I'm waiting for you, nephew, to have a talk with you. Remember, it's some time since we met!"
"Surely, uncle, that is not my fault," exclaimed Ráby, "considering that you never once crossed my threshold during my illness."
"No, indeed; small chance of doing so, seeing that every time I came, I found a heyduke before your door, who told me that only the doctor was allowed to see you."