ch out the right
hand of fellowship and forgiveness, we shall see presently.

* * * * *

Master Jock could scarce await the dawn of St. John Baptist's Day; he
was as delighted as a child who knows that some long-wished-for
amusement awaits him. He was awakened long before sunrise by the baying
of the dogs and the rattling of the baggage-waggons into the courtyard.
The huntsmen were coming back from the forest with newly shot game; over
the sides of the lofty wains the horned heads of the noble antlered
stags bobbed up and down; heaps of pheasants were carried between two
poles; well-fattened heath fowl were slung over the shoulders of the
beaters. The cook came forth to meet them in his white _kantus_, and
tapped row after row of the fat game, his face beaming with satisfaction
all the time. Master Jock himself was looking down from the
latticed-window into the courtyard; even then the day had only just
begun to dawn, and the eastern curtain of the sky was aflame with
purple, pink, carmine, and saffron hues. The whole plain around was calm
and still; and silver mists lay here and there over the fields like
fairy lakes.

And now the Nabob lay down for another little snatch of slumber. We
know, of course, that early morning dreams are the sweetest. And he
dreamt that he was speaking to his eagerly desired nephew Bela, sitting
beside him, and drinking the loving cup with him; and so it came about
that the sun was already high in the heavens when Palko shook him out of
his slumbers by bawling in his ear: "Get up! Here are your boots!"

Master Jock leaped out of his bed with the vigour of a sprightly lad.
The first question he asked was: "Has any one come?"

"As many as muck," replied the old servant; thereby showing _his_
appreciation of the arrivals.

"Is Mike Kis here?" continued Master Jock, as he drew on his boots.

"He was the first of all. His father could not have been a gentleman; no
gentleman could have had a son who is up and about two hours after
dawn."

"Who else is here?"

"There's Mike Horhi. No sooner had he got to the door than he suddenly
recollected that he had left his tobacco-pouch in the inn at Szabadka,
and would have gone back for it had I not torn him out of the carriage
by force."

"The fool! And who else is there?"

"All the good birds of the order of gentleman have already appeared.
Friczi Kalotai is also here, in his own conveyance. I wonder where he