om the house for some days!

But on one thing she was resolved--Vamhidy should not find her at
Hidvar. She would fly. She would leave her husband's house. Where should
she go? Who would receive her? What would become of her? She did not
know, she gave the matter no thought, but one thing was certain: Szilard
and she might meet together in the grave but they should never encounter
each other beneath the shadow of the halls of Hidvar.

There was nobody she could confide in. All the servants were her
husband's paid spies and her own jailors. The priest had disappeared
altogether from Hidvar. In her despair an old memory rose up before her.
She called to mind that during the earlier days of her stay at Hidvar
when she had explored the whole region under the delusion that she could
make the wretched happy, she had often passed a little house which had
always riveted her attention. It was a little hunting hut in the midst
of the forest built entirely of wood and planed smoothly outside like a
little polished cabinet. In front of it stood broad spreading fruit
trees, crowded with flowers in spring, crowded with fruit in autumn,
wild vines and moss grew all over its roofs.

In the midst of the listening woods this little house had such an
inviting exterior that the very first time she saw it, Henrietta could
not resist the temptation of entering it.

The door of the little house stood open before her, being only on the
latch. She had stepped in: there was nobody inside. In the first room
there was furniture of some hard wood; close to the wall stood a carved
side-board with painted earthenware on it, on a table was a pitcher of a
similar ware full of fresh pure water. The door of another room to the
right was also open and in that room also she found nobody. There stood
a bed with a bear skin for a coverlet, other bear skins spread on the
floor served instead of carpets and on the walls were bright lynx, and
wildcat skins.

From this room there was a door leading into a third room and here also
she found nobody. The walls of this room were covered with
weapons--guns, pistols and curiously shaped swords and daggers, in rows
and crossed, hanging on nails and leaning against the walls. On the
oaken table stood stuffed beasts and birds, under the table was a
stuffed fox fastened to a chair; a pair of wild boars' heads with
powerful tusks were over the door, but there was no sign of any living
beast.

Henrietta fancied that t