gun on his shoulder and took his dog with him.

Once again this thought agonized me afresh: "Father is dead, and we go
for an afternoon's shooting, with grandmother's consent as if nothing
had happened."

We went down through the gardens, all along the loam-pits; my brother
seemed to be choosing a route where we should meet with no one. He kept
the dog on the leash to prevent its wandering away. We went a long way,
roaming among maize-fields and shrubs, without the idea once occurring
to Lorand to take the gun down from his shoulder. He kept his eyes
continually on the ground, and would always silence the dog, when the
animal scented game.

Meantime we had left the village far behind us. I was already quite
tired out, and yet I did not utter a syllable to suggest our returning.
I would rather have gone to the end of the world than return home.

It was already twilight when we reached a small poplar wood. Here my
brother suggested a little rest. We sat down side by side on the trunk
of a felled tree. Lorand offered me some cakes he had brought in his
wallet for me. How it pained me that he thought I wanted anything to
eat. Then he threw the cake to the hound. The hound picked it up and,
disappearing behind the bushes, we heard him scratch on the ground as he
buried it. Not even he wanted to eat. Next we watched the sunset. Our
village church-tower was already invisible, so far had we wandered, and
yet I did not ask whether we should return.

The weather became suddenly gloomy; only after sunset did the clouds
open, that the dying sun might radiate the heavens with its
storm-burdened red fire. The wind suddenly rose. I remarked to my
brother that an ugly wind was blowing, and he answered that it was good
for us. How this great wind could be good for us, I was unable to
discover.

When later the heavens gradually changed from fire red to purple, from
purple to gray, from gray to black, Lorand loaded his gun, and let the
hound loose. He took my hand. I must now say not a single word, but
remain motionless. In this way we waited long that boisterous night.

I racked my brain to discover the reason why we were there.

On a sudden our hound began to whine in the distance--such a whine as I
had never yet heard.

Some minutes later he came reeling back to us; whimpering and whining,
he leaped up at us, licked our hands, and then raced off again.

"Now let us go," said Lorand, shouldering his gun.

Hurriedly we foll