omewhere from the earth, or
from the wall, a thundering voice was heard promising to take him at
his word--that they would continue playing till the end of the world.
And ever since, the checkers are heard rattling, and the two damned
souls are still playing the game in the tower-room.

When we were boys, the secret did not give us any rest, and we were
always discussing and plotting as to how we could discover it. We made
at least a hundred various plans, but all failed. It was an
impossibility to get into the tower, because of a heavy iron-barred
oaken door. The windows were too high to be reached. We had to satisfy
ourselves with throwing a well-aimed stone, which hit the room through
the window. Such an achievement was somewhat of a success, for
oftentimes we drove out an alarmed flock of birds.

One day I decided that the best way would be to find out the secret of
the tower from Balint's father himself. "He is the head of the
family," I thought, "and if any light is to be had on the mystery, it
is through him." But Balint didn't like the idea of approaching the
old man; he knew his father's temper.

However, once he ventured the question, but he was sorry for it
afterwards, for the older Orzo flew into a passion, and scolded and
raged, ending by telling him that he must not listen to such
nursery-tales; that the tower was moldering and decaying with age;
that the floor timbers and staircase were so infirm that it would fall
to pieces should anyone approach it; and that this was why no one
could gain admittance.

For a long time afterwards neither of us spoke of it.

But curiosity was incessantly working within us, and one evening
Balint solemnly vowed to me that as soon as he became of age and had
looked into the room, he would call for me, should I be even at the
end of the world, and would let me into the secret. In order to make
it more solemn, we called this a "blood-contract."

With this vow we parted. My parents sent me to college; Balint had a
private tutor and was kept at home in the castle. After that we only
met at vacation time.

Eight years passed before I saw the Orzo home again. At Balint's
urgent, sudden invitation I had hurriedly journeyed back to my rocky
fatherland.

I had scarcely stepped on the wide stone stairway leading from the
terrace in the front of the castle, when someone shouted that the
honorable master was near! He came galloping in on a foaming horse. I
looked at him and s