of he would probably live
later.

She must be a lively, good-natured creature. She shared every morsel
with her servant, and sent what remained to the coachman. Perhaps if she
had known she had another nameless travelling companion, she would have
invited him to the repast. As she ate she poured some rye-whiskey into
her tin plate; to this she added figs, raisins and sugar, and then
lighted it. This beverage is called in our country "krampampuli." It
must be very healthy on a night journey for a healthy stomach.

When the repast was over, the door leading to the courtyard opened: and
there entered the rogue who had been left outside, his hat pressed over
his eyes, and in his hand one of his pistols that he had taken from his
girdle.

"Under the table! under the bed! all whose lives are dear to them!" he
cried, standing in the doorway. At these terrible words the Slavonian
and the other who were sleeping on the floor clambered up into the
chimney-place, the host disappeared into the cellar, banging the door
after him, while the servant hid herself under the bench; then the
robber stepped up to the table and extinguished both candles with his
hat, so that there remained no light on the table save that of the
burning spirit.

The latter gave a weird light. When sugar burns in spirits, a sepulchral
light appears on everything: living faces look like faces of the dead;
all color disappears from them, the ruddiness of the countenance, the
brilliance of the lips, the glitter of the eyes,--all turn green. It is
as if phantoms rose from the grave and were gazing at one another.

Lorand watched the scene in horror.

This gay, smiling woman's face became at once like that of one raised
from the tomb; and that other who stood face to face with her, weapon in
hand, was like Death himself, with black beard and black eyelids.

Yet for one moment it seemed to Lorand as if both were laughing--the
face of the dead and the face of Death, but it was only for a moment;
and perhaps, too, that was merely an illusion.

Then the robber addressed her in a strong, authoritative voice:

"Your money, quickly!"

The woman took her purse, and without a word threw it down on the table
before him.

The robber snatched it up and by the light of the spirit began to
examine its contents.

"What is this?" he asked wrathfully.

"Money," replied the lady briefly, beginning to make a tooth-pick from a
chicken bone with her silver-handled anti