der that slumber might not come upon him unawares, he resolved to
fix his eyes on the castle windows--as the best preservative against
dropping off. He could see them quite plainly from the bee-house.

The illuminated windows were darkened one by one. It seemed as if,
contrary to the words of the clergyman, the revellers within there did
not mean to await the rosy dawn glass in hand, but had lain down early.

For, indeed, it was still early. The village cocks had only just crowed
for the first time. It could not be much beyond eleven.

After the lamps had been extinguished, the castle stood there in the
semi-obscurity of night like a black, old-world ruin. It stood right in
front of the moon which was now climbing up behind its bastions and
where its light fell upon two opposite windows which met together in a
corner room it shone through them both and lighted up the whole
apartment. This room was the baroness's dormitory.

While Mr. Gerzson was luxuriating in the contemplation of the moonlight,
he suddenly observed that the moonlight falling upon the windows was
obscured for an instant, as if somebody were passing up and down the
room. In a few moments this obscuration was repeated, and the same thing
happened a third time, and a fourth, and many times more, just as if
some one were passing up and down in that particular room in the middle
of the night restlessly, incessantly.

Mr. Gerzson counted on his pulses the seconds which elapsed between each
obscuration--sixteen seconds, consequently the room in which this person
was to-and-froing it so late at night like a spectre, must be sixteen
paces from one end to the other. So long as the other windows had been
lit up, this person had not begun to walk but as soon as the whole
castle was slumbering its restless course began.

Gerzson felt that if he looked much longer, he would become moonstruck
himself.

Slowly divesting himself of his _bunda_, and after knocking the burning
ashes out of his pipe, he noiselessly quitted the bee-house, traversed
the garden and sprang over the fence at a single bound. Then he stole
along in the shadow of the poplar avenue leading up to the castle till
he stood beneath the moon-lit window, climbed, like a veritable lunatic
on to the projecting stones of the old bastion, and gazed from thence,
at closer quarters, at the regularly recurring shadow.

But not even now was he content, but began to break off little portions
of the moulde