p his passion for the
chase a secret, especially as his relations with Leonard were none of
the best.

After that Henrietta had visited the little forest house no more. This
prosaic explanation had robbed it in her eyes of all its mysterious
interest, nor did she think it becoming to enter a house whose owner was
not on very good terms with her husband. Only now did the recollection
of the little forest dwelling recur to her, and in the terror of her
soul she began to regard the little moss-covered hut whose doors stood,
open, night and day, as a possible asylum. It was the only place where
she could take refuge, the only place where she had no need to fear
spies, where nobody would look for her, where she might remain in hiding
and from whence she might either return home or wander further out into
the world according as fate was kind or unkind to her.

At night there would be nobody in the little house, for the enthusiastic
old hunter would be stalking the forest. It was also possible that his
official duties might keep him away for days together. But even if she
were to meet him, why should she be afraid of the eccentric old man?
Would she not rather find in him a natural protector who would conduct
her out of the mountains to Klausenburg or Banfi-Hunyad, from whence she
would make her way to Pest and there seek a refuge in her aunt's house?

She did not think twice about it, but accepted the idea as a heaven-sent
inspiration which it was her duty to follow. She put on a shawl as if
she were only going to take a walk in the moonlight and descended into
the park accompanied by the gardener's daughter whom she had bribed to
help her to escape. The girl succeeded in hoodwinking the men servants
by dressing herself up in a mantle of her mistress's, pretending she
would have supper out in the park as the night was so fine and warm, so
that by the time the fraud was discovered and the alarm given, Henrietta
had had a start of several hours and although the men, fearful of the
anger of their master when he should return and find his wife flown,
searched in every direction with lighted torches they were unable to
discover a trace of the missing lady.

Terror lends strength to the most feeble. Ordinarily Henrietta was so
weak that it was as much as she could do to promenade through the park.
But to-day after a two hours' run over stones and through briars and
bushes, at midnight, she still did not feel weary. From the top