e depths of
the cavern. The wild beast during all this noise, clamour and beating
about the bush was actually behind my back holding his tongue,--and a
splendid big beast he was, two heads taller than I and with tusks like a
wild boar. In a moment he was upon me, and I had already discharged my
two barrels. It is all over with me now, I thought! Why, it will be
nothing at all to a magnificent beast like this to tear such a wretched
creature as myself limb from limb! Erect on his hind legs he came
straight at me, smashing my hunting-knife at a single blow, and,
enfolding me in his terrible arms, he tried to mangle my features with
his teeth. At the last moment I called to Leonard: 'Shoot between us,
old chap! you will hit one of us anyhow!' I preferred being killed by a
bullet to being torn to bits. The next instant a report sounded, and I
was only just aware that the pair of us, still tightly embraced, were
rolling backwards into the bottom of the ravine. There, however, the
thick undergrowth held us up, and I perceived that my bear was quite
done for. The bullet had gone clean through his ear. Yes, a masterly
shot on Leonard's part it was, I must confess--at fifty paces at the
very moment when the bear's head and mine were near enough for kissing.
And I do think it was so nice of Leonard to risk a shot for me, when if
he had simply allowed me to be torn to pieces he would have saved his
thousand ducats, for he lost his bet, you see. Not only did he liberate
me, but he paid a thousand ducats for doing so."

"He acted like a true gentleman!" they all cried. It was the general
opinion.

"Your ladyship will see this splendid bear skin at Hidvar, it is a real
treasure for a hunter, I can tell you. And in fact if I had had the
choice I would much rather have had the bear skin than the thousand
ducats, and the exchange would have been much better for me too in the
long run, for I should have the skin to this day, whereas the thousand
ducats were forcibly taken from me at Deva by that villain, Fatia
Negra."[7]

[Footnote 7: Black face.]

"Who is that?" enquired Henrietta curiously.

"A famous robber-chieftain in these mountains whom they can never lay
hands upon."

Henrietta cast anxious glances around her.

But here Hatszegi coolly interrupted him by striking his plate with his
fork: "I won't have my wife frightened to death by your highwayman
yarns," cried he, and changed the conversation. Shortly afterwards
Henrie