r heart when the examining magistrate used the
word "misfortune." She would have wished him to say "crime." But she
answered with a firm voice.

"No, I was not present."

"Then you cannot be a witness."

"I am not a witness, I am the accuser."

The lawyer for the defense smiled faintly, but the prosecuting attorney
drew himself up and answered sternly and impressively, before the
examining magistrate had found time to open his mouth.

"You are mistaken, my good woman. I am the accuser, and you have
nothing more to do here."

"That is true," the magistrate now remarked. "If you desire to obtain
damages from Herr von Abonyi, you can bring the complaint before the
civil court. You have nothing to do with the criminal trial."

"But it is my husband, my Pista, who has been murdered!" cried Panna,
who was beginning to be greatly excited.

The prosecuting attorney twirled a lead-pencil between his fingers, but
the examining magistrate rose, took the widow by the hand and led her
to the door, saying soothingly: "You don't understand, my good woman;
the point in question is not your Pista, but our Pista. He was a
member of society, and his cause is the cause of all of us. Rely upon
it, you will have justice." While speaking he had opened the door and
given the constable a sign to lead the woman away.

This was not necessary; Panna went voluntarily, after casting a strange
look at the magistrate which somewhat perplexed him.

The cartwright's funeral took place in the afternoon amid a great
throng of villagers. Since his mother's death Molnar had had no
relatives in the place, and his wife and her father were the only
mourners among the concourse which followed the coffin to the cemetery.
The Catholic pastor, who was often Abonyi's partner at his evening card
parties, delivered an edifying address beside the open grave. He took
for his text the verse (Matthew v. 44): "But I say unto you, Love your
enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and
pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you," and said a
great deal about forgiveness and reconciliation. The listeners were
much moved, and frequently wiped their eyes. Panna alone was tearless
and sullen, she felt enraged with the fat, prating priest, who did not
seem to her to speak sincerely.

After the funeral she went with her father to his hut, and there the
two sat at the table opposite to each other, gazing into vacanc