tural ornament
two pairs of columns, which flank the main entrance on both sides.
Panna entered the narrow space between the two columns at the left, and
sat down with her back resting against the fluted shaft at the stone
base of the pillar, whose shadow completely concealed her.

She was very weary and exhausted; the tempest of thoughts in her brain
were followed by fatigue and a dull stupor; the silence, the darkness,
the warmth of the shawl wrapped closely around her, the motionless
position which her narrow hiding-place required, exerted a drowsy
influence, and she soon sank into a torpor which imperceptibly passed
into an uneasy, agitated half slumber, visited by terrible dreams.
Panna saw horrible shapes dancing around her, which grasped her with
their icy hands and dragged her away; sometimes it seemed as if her
brother was brought out and a bullet fired into his head; while she was
trying anxiously to find the wound, it was not her brother, but Pista,
who lay there with the hole in his forehead; she wailed aloud and the
dead man rose, seized a brick, and dashed it on her head so that she
fell bleeding; then again it seemed as though it was not she who lay on
the ground in a pool of blood, but Abonyi, who still held the smoking
revolver in his rigid hand; so the frightful dream faces blended in
terrible, spectral changes, one horrible visage drove out another, till
Panna, with a low cry of fear, suddenly started from her troubled
sleep. A heavy hand had grasped her by the shoulder, and a harsh voice
shouted unintelligible words into her ear.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a policeman standing before her,
shaking her and asking what she was doing here. Panna was terribly
startled for a moment, but she quickly regained her presence of mind,
and said:

"My husband is in the jail and will be released early in the morning;
so I came here to wait for him."

"Why, my dear woman, you can't stay here," replied the policeman; "find
a night's lodging, and in the morning you can be here in ample time to
meet your husband."

"Oh, do let me stay here, I don't know anybody in the city, where am I
to go now in the night, it will surely be morning in two or three
hours," pleaded Panna, at the same time drawing from her pocket a
florin, one of the last she had left, which she slipped into the hand
of the guardian of order. After this argument the latter evidently
discovered that it would be no very serious crime if a