in its right place
at last. She did not say a word, nor did she look at that dreadful
Goliath, but turned away her head, so that he could not see her face.
But Goliath was quite satisfied at seeing the rose where he had wished
it to be, and out of gratitude would have liked to restore the lizard to
life, but that was of course impossible.

At the foot of the hill the carriage was waiting, and the travellers
took their places again, this time with an uncomfortable feeling.
Silently they sat opposite each other, one looking to the right, the
other to the left, and if their eyes happened to meet they hastily
turned them away. When they spoke, their remarks were addressed to
Madame Krisbay, who began to notice that something had happened.

But what? Only a few childish words to which their minds had given a
more serious meaning than they were meant to have, and had increased in
size as once the professor's narrow cell in Hatvan, which the devil
enlarged to such an extent that the whole town had place in it. Well, in
those few words, everything was contained.

But now something else happened. I don't know how it was, but I think a
pin dropped, and at the same moment Veronica bent down as though to look
for it. In doing so the pink fell out of her hair into Gyuri's lap, and
he picked it up in order to return it to her. But she made him a sign to
keep it.

"If it _would_ not stay in my hair, and fell into your lap, you may as
well keep it."

_Would_ it not have stayed in her hair? Was it quite an accident?
thought Gyuri, as he smelt the flower. What a pleasant odor it had! Was
it from her hair?

Now they were driving beside the Brana, the far-famed Brana, which quite
shuts this part of the country off from the rest of the world, like an
immense gate. That is why it is called the Brana, or gate. It is no
common mountain, but an aristocrat among its kind, and in fine weather
it wears a hat, for its summit is hidden in clouds. Several small
streams make their way down its side, flowing together at the foot, and
making one broad stream.

"That is the Bjela Voda," explained Veronica to Madame Krisbay, "we are
not far from home now."

They still had to drive through one wood, and then the little white
cottages of Glogova would be before them. But this was the worst bit of
the road, crooked and curved, full of ruts and rocks, and so narrow that
there was hardly room for the carriage to pass.

Janos turned round and said w