flagrant dishonor. Since two days she too had detested that fellow.

Lorand meanwhile gazed after his brother with eyes flashing with a
desire for vengeance.

Topandy grasped Lorand's hand.

"If I believed in cherubim, I should say: a persecuting angel had taken
up his abode in you, to whisper that idea to you. Do you know,
Desiderius is the very double of what your father was when he came home
from the academy: the same face, figure, depth of voice, the same
lightning fire in his eyes, and that same murderous frown, and you are
now going to take that boy before Sarvoelgyi that he may relate an awful
story of a man who wished to murder a good friend in the most devilish
manner, just as he did!"

"Hush! Desi of that knows not a word."

"So much the better. A living being, who does not suspect that to the
man whom he is visiting, he is the most horrible phantom from the other
world! The murdered father, risen up in the son!--It will make me
acknowledge one of the ideas I have hitherto denied--the existence of
hell."

Desiderius returned.

"Look at us, my dear Czipra," said Lorand to the girl, who was always
fluttering around him: "are we handsome enough? Will the eyes of the
beautiful rest upon us?"

"Go," answered Czipra, pushing Lorand in playful anger, "as if you
didn't know yourselves! Rather take care you don't get lost there. Such
handsome fellows are readily snapped up."

"No, Czipra, we shall return to you," said Lorand, pressing Czipra so
tenderly to him, that Desiderius considered as superfluous any further
questions as to why Lorand had brought him there. He approved his
brother's choice: the girl was beautiful, natural, good-humored and, so
it seemed, in love with him. What more could be required?--"Don't be
afraid, Czipra; nobody's beautiful blue eyes shall detain us there."

"I was not afraid for your sakes of beautiful eyes," replied Czipra,
"but of Mistress Boris's pies:--such pies cannot be got here."

Thereat all three laughed--finally Desiderius too, though he did not
know what kind of mythological monster such a sadly bewitched cake might
be, which came from Mistress Boris's hand.

Topandy embraced the two young fellows. He was sorry he could not
accompany them, but begged Lorand notwithstanding to remain as long as
he liked.

Czipra followed them to the door. Lorand there grasped her hand, and
tenderly kissed it. The girl did not know whether to be ashamed or
delighted.

Thrice di