The ice on the Waag rolled more and more mightily! Not within the memory of the oldest inhabitant had it ever been so dangerous before. The icy flood crowded through the brook of Madocsany to the mill-dam, easily broken through, and then it might have found its way to the castle wall.

"See," said little Cupid to his mother, "Why did you push Saint Nepomeck out of his place, you and Father Peter? Now Saint Nepomeck is paying you for it."

"Oh, you've been dreaming."

"No, I saw it! I am still trembling at it."

"If you are trembling, then you have fever. Go back to bed, and don't look out of the window. I'll send Hirsko to tell you a story."

(Yes, Hirsko, who knows where he is now?)

"No, send me Father Peter instead, he'll tell me the truth."

"Very well then, Father Peter."

Since dawn, Idalia had been fully ten times to Father Peter's sitting-room to see if he was at home; but neither he nor his handsome cloak was to be seen. Through the opened window whistled the wind. The lady went out on to her glass-covered balcony and looked in astonishment at the great ice sea which the Waag had changed the valley into, for the time; a sea through the centre of which flowed a swift current, while its borders were of ice barricades, rising mountain high. The four tin-roofed towers of Mitosin Castle were resplendent in the morning sunshine. Suddenly it seemed to her that a black spot detached itself from the opposite bank and made its way through the ice stream. Soon she could see through the glass that it was a boat with five men. What might this boat be bringing? There need be no fear of five men. Here were five and twenty servants, hunters and haiduks already, and all armed with guns and halberds. The men in the boat were making a truly perilous attempt; the masses of ice threatened every moment to sink the boat. Often they jumped out to pull it through the ice blocks. At one moment a giant slab of ice rose and then suddenly plunged down, almost destroying them all, like so many water rats. A man must have a deeply fixed purpose to go to Madocsany such a day. Who could it be? There were four in the crew, it was apparent from a distance. The fifth was so wrapped in his bearskin that he was not recognizable. At last they came in safety to the mill-dam. Then the crew sprang out of their boat, dragged it up on the ice, fastened it to a willow; and now the fifth person, all wrapped in his bearskin, rose and climbed up on the bank. Then Idalia recognized him at a glance—he limped. It was the lord of the neighboring estate. Grazian Likovay was approaching,—her foe in whose heart she had now turned her knife for the second time. But he comes alone—what has he in mind? Was the old bear looking up his former foe, to throttle her, like a wild-cat? The bear would find by experience that the wild cat had claws she knew how to use.

The Lady Idalia wore a long Russian cloak, bordered with fur, and in the broad sleeves was carefully concealed a poisoned dagger, which must by a single scratch inevitably send down to death the strongest man.

At the same time, the haiduks entered the next room as a reserve force, and the steward and manager stood ready to strike down the first man who tried to injure their lady. Unnecessary prudence. Grazian Likovay had come without weapons; he could not have used any, had he had it; for his right arm was in a sling, and his hand was bandaged. Father Peter's last blow with the candelabra had been aimed at his head, but Likovay caught it with his hand, and so maimed it. The left hand was occupied with the crutch and his cap, now removed.

With downcast head and humble soul, dragging the lame foot, Grazian came into the presence of the Lady, and addressed her in a voice like that of a beggar at the door.

"Humbled to the dust, I come, my Lady, to you, a poor, dead, buried old man. I acknowledge that I have been defeated, maimed, destroyed. I also recognize that I deserved it. I was the guilty one. I was the fool. When disgrace reached to the very tower of my own house, I sought it in your cellar. I accused you of a shame that was my daily bread. You were right. May this give you comfort."

"What have you done? I hope that you have not been killing or murdering."

"Oh, don't be frightened. I know how sensitive your heart is. You would have mourned if the wild, foolish Grazian Likovay, in consequence of a good word from you, in consequence of a truly friendly warning worthy of a kinsman and a neighbor, had throttled one after the other, both man and maiden. No, he has not done so; on the contrary, it is we who have been mowed down."

"By Father Peter?"

"Yes, by Father Peter, but in the form of Tihamer Csorbai. He is a valiant knight. First, he all but killed my intended son-in-law, the good Berezowski, and then he crippled two of my brave haiduks, and when his sword broke, seized the church candlesticks and dealt us blows. I received one, I beg you to look at it." And with that he took the bloody bandage off his hand.

Idalia was horrified; she wished to help Grazian bind it up again, but he would not allow it.

"Don't trouble yourself, gracious Lady, with my teeth and my left hand I can bind it up somehow."

"And what became of Father Peter?" urged the lady.

"He finally succumbed; 'many geese are the death of even a boar!'"

"Do you mean that he was killed?"

"No, not killed. I told you already that I did not kill anybody. I am a gentle, pious man. Neither I, nor anybody else at my command, will kill Father Peter."

"Then what will become of him?"

"I'll take care of that; but not a hair of his head shall be touched; I promise you that in advance. I swear to you, even, that he shall outlive me."

"What is to be done with your daughter?"

"Oh, you need have no concern on her account, gracious Lady, I have not killed her either. Neither have I shut her up in a dungeon, nor even once scourged her. I have become a good, inoffensive man."

"What have you done, then? Have you forgiven her?"

"I have not only released her from punishment, but I have even let her go. I let her go, just as I once promised her, if she should ever again presume to meet Tihamer Csorbai."

"You have not lost your senses, I hope."

"Must you know at once what I promised her? Very well, I promised her that I would set her in a boat, and would push her, boat and all, into the Waag, and then she might, in God's name, float whichever way the water carried her. Just at present, the Waag offers a fine opportunity for such a boat-ride."

"Is it possible that you have really done this?"

"It is, indeed. If you had listened in the stilly night, a little after midnight, you might have heard for a long time her cries for help, in the pauses of the crashing of the ice floes. I could not bear them, because the wind was blowing in the opposite direction, and the ice splitting sounded too loud."

"You are a monster!"

"Oh, no indeed! I am a humble crawling worm of the dust. I am a halting cripple. I am an uprooted, decayed willow. But why do I complain to you of my sorrow? I did not come through the icy flood to find Hell itself, to bewail my misery to you here in Madocsany Castle. I will not cause you one unpleasant hour in this way. I come, however, on a very important matter, which I wish to settle to-day between us. I wish to sell you the Mitosin estate."

"What's that?"

"The entire Mitosin estate. Castle and everything, including all the stock. I wish to sell it to you for all time. Your worthy husband once wanted to buy it of me, when I was in need of money, because of my son's debts. Your husband offered me then sixty thousand dollars and thirty thousand ducats, but I did not consent. I preferred to sell the beautiful fertile property of Alfald, my wife's dowry, but the Mitosin Castle of my ancestors I would not set a price on for my neighbor; my pride would not allow it. Now I have no more pride, I am humbled to the dust. The disgrace which has fallen upon my house has been seen by hundreds, has been talked of by hundreds; it is impossible for me to stay longer in this vicinity. I must go forth into a country where nobody understands our language,—to Wallachia or Little Russia. That is why I offer you my estate. If you will pay the sum your husband offered, I shall accept with joyful thanks. If you wish to pay less, I shall not protest against it. I wish to flee from my possessions, and therefore I will sell them at any price, just as a dying man tries to sell his mattress to get money to buy his coffin."

Idalia raised her head proudly. The ornaments on her cap glittered; thus does the demon of satisfied revenge exalt his horns; the Bittse day was avenged, richly avenged with interest, and interest on interest. Her torn veil had been paid for with a whole shroud. They had wished to drive her hence, and now it was they who must flee. Now would she exult in her triumph.

"Well, noble Grazian Likovay, if you wish to sell your Mitosin estate forever, I will pay you the price for it that my poor departed husband offered. The gold is at hand; I am not accustomed to put it out at interest; you can have it when you please."

"Then, at once; for to-morrow at this time no living soul shall speak with me in the owl-nest of Mitosin. So then, at once,—that is what brought me here. I have ready with me the contract that your husband sent me, in two copies. We have only to fill in the blanks left for the names and amounts, sign the contract, seal it, and have it witnessed. Have you any men here who understand writing?"

"Yes."

Idalia did not need to go far for them. In the adjoining room, her steward and manager were listening; both learned men, who understood Latin too; she could call them. Now she was ready to offer her guest an arm-chair, and even have a cushion put under his gouty feet. The two learned men took up the two copies of the sale and purchase and compared the contents. Then they wrote the names and the amounts of the dollars and ducats. Both parties added their names with the same pen, and imprinted the red seal.

"Perhaps I ought to have sealed mine in black," muttered Grazian through his teeth, "But who can tell?"

Then both witnesses signed and sealed the document: each one took his copy, and now it was time to pay the money. Idalia had gold and silver brought and placed on the great oaken table. All had been packed in casks, large and small, arranged to open at the top, and on each cask was written the amount within.

"Do you require us to count the money, or weigh it out?" asked the Lady of Madocsany.

"We will neither count it, nor weigh it; whoever put it in knew how to count it, I am sure. And now I think everything is in order. Why should any one wish to deceive me, who is neither my friend nor my relative. There, boys, is a little drink-money for your trouble. And now close up the casks."

And with that he put his left hand into a cask, not one of silver, but of gold, and tossed a handful of it into the witnesses' caps, as they lay on the floor.

"The trade is done, gracious Lady. Now I give you the key of my castle. I shall spend the night at my agent's. By to-morrow morning, the Waag will be firm; my lame foot feels in advance that it is going to be very cold. You and your people can drive across in sledges, enter my towered hen-roost, and give your own invitations to a house-warming. Store-house and cellar are full. Now I ask one favor of you. Be so kind as to have your servants carry these casks to my boat for me. I will go ahead and wait for them there."

"But surely you will seal the casks with your own signet."

"What's the use of such care? These people will not deceive me, they are not relatives of mine. They are entire strangers, who have never received a favor from me. I can trust them."

"At your own risk."

"Now then, gracious Lady, let us shake hands for the last time. I regret that I cannot offer you my right hand. Now we can part in peace; neither one of us owes the other anything more in this world." And he offered Idalia his left hand. "What account we may have to settle with each other in the world below, Beelzebub will tell us, I suppose." With that he pushed her hand aside violently, took his crutch in his left hand, clapped his cap on his bald head, and without a word, limped out of the room and did not look around until he had reached his boat.

Twelve haiduks carried the casks of money to his boat; were they all there or not? Nobody counted. Anything more?

Then Likovay seated himself in the stern of his boat, and said to his boatmen, "Push off."

The boat moved still more slowly than before; but what wonder, when it was heavier by the hundredweight of silver and gold?