rcing cry. Her sister whispered in her ear,
"Be strong. Show your resolution now."

Banfy bit his lips in anger but he knew how to control his feelings
and answered quietly:

"That is not true. I dispute it."

"What! Is it not true? there are people who have seen her."

"Who has seen her?"

"Clement, the Lieutenant of the Circuit."

"Clement, the poet? lying is the poet's trade."

"Good, my lord baron! Since you deny everything I shall convince
myself personally of all these matters. I shall myself go to the place
in question and if I find proof of the accusation brought against you,
be assured that a threefold punishment awaits you; for the abduction
of the Turkish girl, for the violence done a messenger of the Prince
and for your infidelity. But one of these charges is alone sufficient
to bring you down from your fancied height. Csaki, conduct us to the
place mentioned. My lord, Dionysius Banfy, will remain here in the
meantime."

Banfy stood colorless and as if rooted to the ground. His wife had
risen, and summoning all her strength with a mighty effort, advanced
to the Prince and said:

"My lord,--pardon my husband,--he knows of nothing--the guilt is mine;
that woman whom you are looking for found herself pursued and turned
to me for protection and I hid her in that place without the knowledge
of my husband."

Each word that she spoke seemed to cost the pale, weak woman more than
human strength.

Banfy blushed and dropped his eyes before her. Madame Apafi looked at
her sister triumphantly and pressed her hand.

"Good! that is noble. You were strong."

Apafi saw through the generous deceit and turned angrily toward Banfy,
determined that he should not escape him in this way.

"And you permit your wife to take risks which might easily plunge your
family--yes, your country--into peril! for this you deserve
punishment. It is my wish that here in the presence of your guests, to
my satisfaction, you set her right." Madame Banfy sank down on her
knees before the guests, with an air of resignation, and dropped her
head like a criminal who awaits her punishment.

"That is not my custom," replied Banfy, hoarsely.

"Then I will do it," said Apafi, and stepped up to the lady.

"This deed of yours deserves to be punished by imprisonment."

"That I will not permit, my lord," muttered Banfy, between his teeth.

He was already white as a corpse. All the blood seemed to have settled
in his eyes as at a focal