He drew a silver whistle from his bosom and gave with it three
penetrating signals which re-echoed from among the distant mountains.
But it was only an echo, only the note of the whistle that he heard, he
waited in vain for anything else. All his accomplices had evidently
hidden away.

And again the pursuer overtook him. He waited till he was only two paces
off and then he seized a stone weighing half a hundred weight and hurled
it at him--the tree trunk behind which Szilard had taken refuge bent
beneath the blow. Then Fatia Negra fled down towards the valley.

It was a desperate way for him to take, for down hill his adversary
could cover the ground as quickly as he could; the distance between them
was never more than ten paces, the wound the robber had received began
to enervate his whole body, and he was not long in finding out that the
hurling of missiles is a very profitless mode of warfare when you have
only one hand at your disposal.

Panting hard he fled on further seeking refuge. And now he took to
zigzagging through the wood in the hope of dodging his pursuer if only
for an instant as a flying fox is wont to do when he is already nearing
his hole whose entrance he does not wish to betray to his pursuer.

A little further on a stout quickset hedge barred their way. Fatia Negra
burst through it and Szilard followed in the gap that he had made.

Suddenly a hunting lodge came in view--at least the antlers on the top
of the porch and above the windows suggested that that was what it was
intended for.

One of the windows looking out upon the forest stood open. Fatia Negra
suddenly stopped short, waited till his adversary was close up to him
and then shaking his fist at him sprang through the open window.

Vamhidy did not hesitate a moment about following the adventurer into
the house. He forced his way through the window and found himself in a
dark corridor at the extreme end of which the footsteps of the hunted
adventurer were still resounding. And after him he ran straightway.

CHAPTER XXII

THE SIGHT OF TERROR

"My dear Henrietta," Leonard had said to his wife the day before, as he
shook the dust of the chase off his clothes, "very shortly some guests
will arrive at Hidvar and possibly they may be numerous. May I ask you
to make ready for their reception?"

Henrietta signified by a motion of her head that she understood.

"It is possible you may have to perform the duties of hostess without