ards them from the top of the rock.

"Who fired there?" cried the giant, in a voice of thunder.

The bloodthirsty Wallachians would have rushed madly on their
defenceless prey, had not the giant stood between him and them.

"Who fired on me?" he sternly exclaimed.

The Wallachians stood back in terror.

"It was not on you, Decurio, that I fired, but on the hussar,"
stammered out one of the men, on whom the giant had fixed his eye.

"You lie, traitor! Your ball struck my armour; and had I not worn a
shirt of mail, it would have pierced my heart."

The man turned deadly pale, trembling from head to foot.

"My enemies have paid you to murder me?"

The savage tried to speak, but the words died upon his lips.

"Hang him instantly--he is a traitor!"

The rest of the gang immediately seized the culprit and carried him to
the nearest tree, from whence his shrieks soon testified that the
sentence was being put in execution.

The Decurio remained alone with the young man; and hastily lifting
him, still senseless, from the ground, he mounted his horse, and
placing him before him, ere the savage horde had returned, he had
galloped to some distance along the road from whence the youth had
come, covering him with his mantle as he passed the bridge, to conceal
him from several of the gang who stood there, and exclaiming: "Follow
me to Topanfalva."

As soon as they were out of sight, he suddenly turned to the left,
down a steep hilly path, and struck into the depth of the forest.

* * * * *

The morning sun had just shot its first beams across the hills,
tinting with golden hues the reddening autumn leaves, when the young
hussar began to move in his fevered dreams, and murmured the name
"Jolanka."

In a few moments he opened his eyes. He was lying in a small chamber,
through the only window of which the sunbeams shone upon his face.

The bed on which he lay was made of lime-boughs, simply woven
together, and covered with wolves' skins. A gigantic form was leaning
against the foot of the bed with his arms folded, and as the young man
awoke, he turned round. It was the Decurio.

"Where am I?" asked the young man, vaguely endeavouring to recall the
events of the past night.

"In my house," replied the Decurio.

"And who are you?"

"I am Numa, Decurio of the Roumin[22] Legion, your foe in battle, but
now your host and protector."

[Footnote 22: The Wallachians were, in the days of