ad been exposed, and
cried out in terror, "My dear Helen!" Then he took her hand with a
smile and glanced at the bystanders with triumph.

"Did I not tell you that she was of my blood?" Every man hurried
forward to compliment the brave heroine, who on this occasion seemed
to experience that extraordinary pleasure peculiar to the lucky
hunter.

"Nicholas, my son, do the boars grow as large as that in
Transylvania?"

The Transylvanian, already somewhat out of sorts from his recent
accident, could not let this pass without denying that there was
anything in Hungary better worth having than Transylvania could
produce, so he answered sulkily, "Yes, indeed, and even larger." No
reply possible could have so angered the knight as this;--to say to an
excited hunter that there is better game anywhere than that he has
just praised; and still more, that had been laid low by his own
darling.

"Good, my son, good," growled the knight, "it remains to be seen."

With undisguised signs of annoyance on his countenance he turned aside
from the ill-natured Transylvanian and gave orders to have the game
carried back to the hunting castle. On the way thither he spoke no
word except to his dear one, whom he flattered and extolled to the
very heavens.

* * * * *

It was already late in the afternoon when the hunters sat down to
their meal. The simple but appetizing food had been arranged on a
large grassplot in the middle of the forest; wine and joy thawed out
their spirits and they talked of this and of that, of the war and of
the chase, of beautiful women and of poesy, which at that time was in
great favor among the upper circles. But in spite of the merry
conversation the knight could not keep from asking, in a tone of
reproach, "So, then, there really is better game in Transylvania?"
until the repeated question became irksome to the young man, who had
not intended his reply to be taken with such seriousness.

The bald head saw the situation and attempted to give another turn to
the conversation by taking up his beaker and proposing this
toast;--"May God put the Turks in good spirits."

The knight in his vexation overturned his glass and replied angrily,
"That He shall not! I have not grown old fighting against them to turn
round now and pray for them. He is a fool who changes only to find a
new master."

"The Turk is a gracious master for us," said the young man, with an
ambiguous smile.

"Di