.

"Had I left you there last night, they would now have exhibited your
head instead of your csako."

The crowd halted before the Decurio's window, greeting him with loud
vociferations.

The Decurio spoke a few words in the Wallachian language, on which
they replied more vehemently than before, at the same time thrusting
forward the kalpag on the pole.

The Decurio turned hastily round. "Was your name written on your
kalpag?" he asked the young man, in evident embarrassment.

"It was."

"Unhappy youth! The people, furious at not having found you, are
determined to attack your father's house."

"And you will permit them?" asked the youth, starting from bed.

"I dare not contradict them, unless I would lose their confidence. I
can prevent nothing."

"Give me up--let them wreak their bloody vengeance on my head!"

"I should only betray myself for having concealed you; and it would
not save your father's house."

"And if they murder the innocent and unprotected, on whom will the
ignominy of their blood fall?"

"On me; but I will give you the means of preventing this disgrace. Do
you accept it?"

"Speak!"

"I will give you a disguise; hasten to Kolozsvar and assemble your
comrades,--then return and protect your house. I will wait you there,
and man to man, in open honorable combat, the strife will no longer be
ignominious."

"Thanks, thanks!" murmured the youth, pressing the Decurio's hand.

"There is not a moment to lose; here is a peasant's mantle--if you
should be interrogated, you have only to show this paszura,[7] and
mention my name. Your not knowing the language is of no consequence;
my men are accustomed to, see Hungarian gentlemen visit me in
disguise, and having only seen you by night, they will not recognize
you."

Imre hastily took the dress, while Decurio spoke to the people, made
arrangements for the execution of their plans, and pointed out the way
to the castle, promising to follow them immediately.

"Accept my horse as a remembrance," said the young man, turning to the
Decurio.

"I accept it, as it would only raise suspicion were you to mount it;
but you may recover it again in the field. Haste, and lose no time! If
you delay you will bring mourning on your own head and disgrace on
mine!"

In a few minutes the young man, disguised as a Wallachian peasant, was
hastening on foot across the hills of Kolozsvar.

It was past midnight.

The inhabitants of the Bardy castle had all re