his
nature, according to which his merriment, repressed almost to the
bursting point, was obliged to break loose in a due proportion of
laughter, he rose again from the earth, dusted his clothes, and with the
most serious countenance under the sun said, "Well, we can proceed
now."

Sarvoelgyi's house was unlike Magyar country residences, in that the
latter had their doors night and day on the latch, with at most a couple
of bulldogs on guard in the courtyard--and these were there only with
the intention of imprinting the marks of their muddy paws on the coats
of guests by way of tenderness. Sarvoelgyi's residence was completely
encircled with a stone wall, like some town building: the gate and small
door always closed, and the stone wall crowned with a continuous row of
iron nails:--and,--what is unheard of in country residences--there was a
bell at the door which he who desired to enter had to ring.

The gentlemen rang for a good quarter of an hour at that door, and the
lawyer was convinced that no one would come to open it; finally
footsteps were heard in the hall, and a hoarse, shrill woman's voice
began to make enquiries of those without.

"Who is there?"

"We are."

"Who are 'we'?"

"The guests."

"What guests?"

"The magistrate and the lawyer."

Thereupon the bolts were slipped back with difficulty, and the
questioner appeared. She was, as far as age was concerned, a little
"beyond the vintage." She wore a dirty white kitchen apron, and below
that a second blue kitchen apron, and below that again a third dappled
apron. It was this woman's custom to put on as many dirty aprons as
possible.

"Good day, Mistress Boris," was the lawyer's greeting. "Why, you hardly
wished to let us in."

"I crave your pardon. I heard the bell ring, but could not come at once.
I had to wait until the fish was ready. Besides, so many bad men are
hereabouts, wandering beggars, 'Arme Reisenden,'[36] that one must
always keep the door closed, and ask 'who is there?'"

[Footnote 36: Poor travellers.]

"It is well, my dear Boris. Now go and look after that fish, that it
may not burn; we shall soon find the master somewhere. Has he finished
his devotions?"

"Yes; but he has surely commenced anew. The bells are ringing the
death-toll, and at such times he is accustomed to say one extra prayer
for the departed soul. Don't disturb him, I beg, or he will grumble the
whole day."

Mistress Boris conducted the gentlemen into a