asn't
aimed at us." Then he shouted, in stentorian tones: "Don't shoot,
Ciprianu, don't shoot! There's a lady with us, and she can't bear the
noise."

At this there was heard a great commotion among the dogs, as of some one
quieting the unruly beasts with a whip. Then the gate opened and a
six-foot giant in a sheepskin coat, wool outward, and bearing a club,
appeared. He exchanged greetings in Rumanian with Aaron, and the
conversation that followed was likewise in that language, so that Blanka
could not understand a word of it. The Wallach pointed to the
signal-fires on the mountains, and his face assumed an expression of
alarm. Finally he took one of the horses by the bridle, and conducted
the carriage through the gate and into his stronghold.

"Why are we stopped here?" asked Blanka.

Aaron gave her a reassuring reply. "Ciprianu says it is not best for us
to go any farther to-night, as the rains have washed out the road in
some places, and we might get into trouble in the dark. So we must
accept his invitation and spend the rest of the night under his roof."

Aaron had explained the situation only in part. The Wallachian's
argument for detaining them had much less to do with water than with the
fires on the mountain tops.

The dogs were kicked aside to make room for the strangers, and sundry
villagers appeared out of the gloom to reconnoitre the new arrivals.
The country peasantry never give themselves a regular night's sleep, but
lie down half-dressed in order to get up occasionally and look around in
house and stable, to make sure all is as it should be.

Ciprianu had a handsome daughter, as tall as himself and with regular
features of the old Roman cast. At her father's call she came out,
lifted Blanka like a child from the carriage, and carried her into the
house. It was a pleasant little abode, built of smoothly planed oak
beams and planks. The kitchen, which served also as entrance hall, was
as neat as wax and cheerfully adorned with brightly polished tinware.
The fire on the hearth was still smouldering, and it needed only a
handful of shavings to make it blaze up and crackle merrily. The wall
which separated the great fireplace from the next room was of glazed
tiles, and thus the adjoining apartment was heated by the same fire that
warmed the kitchen. Both the master of the house and his daughter were
most cordial toward their guests. The father spread the table, while the
girl put on the kettle and bro