she will be to see me."

Nevertheless no one came. Squire Gerzson grew impatient. He could not
leave the coach and horses all by themselves.

"Hie! somebody! Who's at home? Landlady, wenches, or whoever you are,
can't you creep out of your hole?"

In reply to his hallooing, a hoarse voice resounded from the taproom:
"Who is it? Can't you come inside instead of standing and bawling
there?"

"What, you scoundrel! Come out this instant, Sirrah, do you hear, or do
you want me to come and fetch you?"

At this categorical command, the speaker inside made his appearance.
Henrietta recognized him at once, though Squire Gerzson saw him now for
the first time. It was old Ripa.

"I am a guest here myself," said he.

"Thou blockhead! by the soul of thy father I charge thee--where is the
hostess?"

"She is outside in the cool air."

"What is she doing there?"

"She is guarding the moles"--which means in the flowery language of the
_puszta_: "she is dead."

"Surely she is not dead?"

"Yes--she did away with herself."

"When?"

"The day before yesterday."

"What was the matter with her?"

"She drank too much water."

"Where?"

"In the hurdle well."

"Why?"

"Because her feet did not reach the bottom."

"She leaped in then?"

"It looks something like it."

"But why did she do so?"

"She was much upset about her lover."

"Did he leave her?"

"The rope-girl[37] took him."

[Footnote 37: _I.e._, the gallows.]

Henrietta listened with a sort of stupefaction to the cynical answers
of the old scoundrel, and her heart grew heavy within her. To think that
that merry, rosy cheeked young woman should have killed herself out of
grief for her lover.

"Then who is carrying on the house?" enquired Squire Gerzson.

"Nobody. All the servants bolted after the funeral, in order that they
might not appear as witnesses."

"Then why do you remain here all alone?"

"Because if I went on my way, everyone would be sure to say that I had
murdered the hostess, I mean to remain here till they come for me."

"Yes, you old swine, and drink up every drop of wine that remains in the
meantime."

"Your pardon, sir, but it all turned to vinegar when the landlady killed
herself. That is always the case."

"None of your nonsense, Sirrah, but listen to me. There's a shilling for
you, forget for the time that you are a guest here. Take out the horses,
put them into the stable, give them hay at once and water them in about