by a small path cut in the rock.

A young man ascended this path. He was attired in a peasant's garb and
although he evidently had traveled far, his step was light and fleet.
When he had ascended about halfway, he was suddenly stopped by an
armed Wallachian, who had been kneeling before a shrine in the rock,
and seeing the stranger, rose and stood in his path.

The latter pronounced the Decurio's name, and produced his paszura.

The Wallachian examined it on every side, and then stepped back to let
the stranger pass, after which he once more laid down his scythe and
cap, and knelt before the shrine.

The stranger knocked at the Decurio's door, which was locked, and an
armed Wallachian appeared from behind the rocks, and informed him that
the Decurio was not at home, only his wife.

"His wife?" exclaimed the stranger in surprise.

"Yes, that pale girl who fell to him by lot."

"And she is his wife."

"He told us so himself, and swore that if any of us dared so much as
lift his eye upon her, he would send him to St. Nicholas in paradise."

"Can I not see her?"

"I would not advise you; for if the Decurio hears of it, he will make
halves of you; but you may go around to the window if you like--only
let me get out of the way first, that the Decurio may not find me
here."

The stranger hastened to the window, and looking in, he saw the young
girl seated on an armchair made of rough birch boughs, with a little
prayer-book on her knee; her fair arm supporting her head, while a
mass of golden ringlets half veiled her face, which was as pale as an
alabaster statue; the extreme sadness of its expression rendering her
beauty still more touching.

"Jolanka!" exclaimed the stranger passionately.

She started at the well-known voice, and, uttering a cry of joy,
rushed to the window.

"Oh, Imre!" she murmured, "are you come at last!"

"Can I not enter? can I not speak with you?"

The young girl hastened to unbar the door, which was locked on the
inside, and as Imre entered she threw herself into his arms, while he
pressed her fondly to his heart.

The Wallachian, who had stolen to the window, stood aghast with terror
and, soon as the Decurio arrived, he ran to meet him, and related,
with vehement gesticulations, how the girl had thrown herself into the
peasant's arms.

"And how did you know that?" asked Numa coldly.

"I saw them through the window."

"And dared you look through my window? Did I not forbid yo