r room here on the right," continued the lady. "The
butler's name is George; he will be your servant. And John is the
coachman, who will stand at your orders."

Lorand's wonder only increased. He wished to make some remark, but he
did not know himself what he wanted to say. Topandy, however, burst
into a Homeric laugh, in which he quite lost himself.

"Why, brother, didn't you tell me you had already arranged matters with
the lady? You would have saved me so much trouble. If matters stand so,
sleep on my sofa, and drink from my glass!"

Lorand wished to play the proud beggar. He raised his head defiantly.

"I shall sleep in the hay, and shall drink from----"

"I advise you to do as I tell you," said the lady, making both men wince
with the flash of her gaze.

"Surely, brother," continued Topandy, "I can give you no better counsel
than that. Well, let us sit down, and drink 'Brotherhood' with a glass
of cognac."

Lorand thought it wise to give way before the commanding gaze of the
lady, and to accept the proffered place, while the latter laughed
outright in sudden good-humor. She was so lovable, so natural, so
pleasant, when she laughed like that, Topandy could not forbear from
kissing her hands.

The lady laughingly, and with jesting prudery, extended the other hand
toward Lorand.

"Well, the other too! Don't be bashful!"

Lorand kissed the other hand.

Upon this, she clapped her hands over her head, and burst into laughter.

"See, see! I have brought you a letter from town," said the lady,
drawing out her purse. "It's a good thing the thief left me this, or
your letter would have been lost as well."

"Thief?" asked Topandy earnestly. "What thief?"

"Why, at the 'Skull-smasher' inn, where we stopped to water our horses,
a thief attacked us, and then wanted to empty our pockets. I threw him
my money and my bracelet, but he wanted to tear this ring from my
finger, too. That I would not give up. Then he caught hold of my hand,
and to prevent my screaming, thrust the butt-end of his pistol into my
mouth--the fool!"

The lady related all this with such an air of indifference that Topandy
could not make out whether she was joking or not.

"What fable is this?"

"Fable indeed!" was the exclamation that greeted him on two sides, on
the one from her ladyship, on the other from the neat little maid, the
latter crying out how much she had been frightened; that she was still
all of a tremble; the former turned