th some one."

"May I ask with whom?"

"I have written the baron a letter and I await a reply."

"He will not send one: he is too much taken up with his pleasures just
now."

"My letter contains things which a man durst not ignore."

"Was your letter an insulting one?"

"I don't wish to advertise its contents."

"Very good. But for all that you may as well lie down. The ways of the
baron are incalculable. Even when he is angry he knows what he is
about."

"Then we'll wait for him till morning."

"Meanwhile repose in peace. My humble dwelling is not very luxurious,
but let your honour imagine that it is a hunting hut in the forest."

"But where then will your reverence sleep?"

"I'll go out to the bee-house. I can sleep there excellently well, I
have a couch of linden leaves."

"Nay, but I also love to sleep on linden leaves, covered with my
_bunda_.[44] I'll lie there to-night. I am accustomed to sleeping in the
open air at night, and you are an old man"--he forgot that he was one
himself--"I could never permit you to sacrifice your comfort for my
sake."

[Footnote 44: A sheepskin mantle.]

The clergyman paused for an instant like one who is suddenly struck by a
new and odd idea.

"You said just now that you had insulted Hatszegi, did you not?" he
asked.

"Well--yes!--if you _must_ know."

"Grossly?"

"Yes, and most deliberately."

"Very good, I only asked the question out of curiosity. You shall have
the choice of your resting place, where would you like to sleep?"

"I choose the bee-house."

"Good. It is true that the night air is not very good for me. I will
sleep then in my usual resting place."

"And I will sleep among the bees. Their humming close beside a man's
ears generally brings him dreams that a king would envy."

"Then good night, sir."

"Good night."

They parted at the little porch. Gerzson wrapped his _bunda_ round his
shoulders and went towards the bee-house, but the priest returned to his
chamber, blew out the light, lay down fully dressed on his bed, took up
his rosary and fell a-praying like one who does not expect to see the
dawn of another day.

He knew his man; he knew what was coming.

Squire Gerzson, on the other hand, troubled himself not a jot about
possible consequences. With the nonchalance of a true sportsman, he lit
his pipe and, lest he should set anything on fire, he made up his mind
not to sleep a wink till he had smoked his pipe right out.

In or