Clement put his pen behind his ear and read over the beautiful verses he had just written. There were two hundred stanzas all ending in "was," except one that ended in "were."

As Apafi always repented if he had hurt anybody's feelings, so in the case of the traveling student Clement, he did not rest until he had made up to him for the disgrace inflicted. And this he did by making the inoffensive poet Lieutenant of the Rounds.

In those days there were many duties connected with this office, all of which Clement calmly let slip while he wrote chronicles and epics in abundance. Now his glance rested upon an epic in which he had related the victory of Apafi at NeuhaÜsel. This poetic musing had so engrossed Clement's power of thought that an entire week had passed since his serving-man had run away carrying off his master's spurred boots, and he had not yet pursued the faithless servant in spite of his office as Lieutenant of the Rounds. He kept persistently going around in the same circle; when he looked for his boots, he remembered that his servant had stolen them, and when he started to go after his servant he became aware that he had no boots. Under these circumstances where could he make a beginning! So he set himself down and wrote verses without end.

His room had not been swept for a week, so there was no lack of dust and cobwebs, beside the ink spots on the floor all around the table. This table had only two legs, the other two being replaced by piles of tiles.

The poet wrote, scratched out, and chewed the end of his pen. On the window-sill lay a piece of bread and some cheese and it occurred to the poet that this food was intended for his consumption. But first he must use the ink in his pen; before this was finished, a second, third, and fourth thought had crowded on the first; meantime three mice had come out of a chink, sported about the tempting morsel and then gnawed away until there was nothing left. After which they had glided back to their holes.

The poet had worked the Pegasus harnessed to his plow until his senses were gone. When he finally roused himself and looked for his bread and cheese he discovered that only crumbs were left, concluded that he had already eaten and imagined that he was satisfied; so he set himself down again and went on with his poetry. While he was subduing the flesh in this way, there was a scratching at the door; somebody rattled the hinge evidently mistaking it for the latch, and naturally could not open the door. This noise rudely frightened Clement from his poetic thought. When he had called out several times to no purpose that the door was not locked he found himself obliged to rise and open it to prevent the visitor from breaking the latch or taking off the hinge.

There stood a Wallachian with a sealed letter in his hand. He seemed to be much frightened when the door opened, although that was the fulfilment of his wishes.

"What is it?" said Clement, becoming angry when the peasant did not speak.

The Wallachian raised his round eyebrows, looked at the poet with wide-opened eyes and asked: "Are you the man who lies for money?"

In this choice language the Wallachian described the office of our Clement. His veins swelled with anger. "Whose ox are you?" he thundered at the Wallachian.

"The gracious lord's who sent this letter," answered the peasant, slily.

"What is his name?" asked Clement, furiously, and tore the letter from the Wallachian's hand.

"Gracious lord is what he is called."

Clement opened the letter and read: "Come at once to me where the bearer will lead you."

Clement was already raging, but now the thought that he had been summoned somewhere and had no boots made him beside himself."Go," he shouted to the Wallachian. "Tell your lord whoever he is, that it is no farther from him to me, than from me to him. If he wishes to speak with me let him take the trouble to come here."

"I understand, Dumnye Macska." In his terror the peasant had called Clement by the name used by the peasants for the Lieutenant of the Rounds, and at once he hurried out of the room.

Clement drew himself up with a great effort in his high-backed chair, and placed two large books on the floor before him that his visitor should not notice that he was barefooted.

Heavy footsteps were soon heard on the street before the house, and when he looked from the window he saw to his great dismay that his visitor was no other than Count Ladislaus Csaki, attended by two Hungarian foot-soldiers with gold lacings.

"Now, Clement," said the poet to himself, "maintain your dignity. It is true he is a Count and a distinguished man, but one who has fallen into disfavor with the Prince while you are in his favor, and besides that are in an official position." So he hid his feet under the books, placed his pen between his lips and bade Csaki come in. He did not even rise at his entrance. Csaki appeared displeased at this reception.

"You know how to maintain your official dignity," he said to Clement."What I am, I am, thanks to the favor of the Prince," he replied, with affectation, and folded his arms proudly.

"I have come to you only at the bidding of the Prince. His Highness has intrusted me with a very delicate affair in which I need your help. The affair must be managed with the utmost secrecy and for that reason I could have wished that you should come to me."

At this explanation Clement suddenly lost his insolent manner.

"I beg your pardon," he stammered confusedly and with head humbly bowed. "I did not know— I pray you be seated."

But as the chair in which he sat was the only specimen of the kind in the room, he jumped up to make room for the Count, and in so doing displayed his feet without their customary covering, at which Csaki burst into a hearty laugh.

"What the devil does this mean, Lieutenant," he exclaimed. "Are you like the Turks who take off their boots in excess of reverence?"

"I beg your pardon. I have not taken them off but they were stolen from me by my servant while I slept. This was my only reason for making your Grace such a rude reply. But I dare hope that your Grace has already pardoned me."

Csaki's good-humor was only increased by this explanation."Certainly, if that is all, we will relieve your distress at once," he said. And he ordered the soldier waiting without to bring his own dress boots in the carriage box for the Lieutenant.

Clement was just opening his lips to make some objections—the favor shown him was too great—when he caught sight of the boots; they pleased him greatly, for they were made of royal green morocco, stitched with gold threads, trimmed on each side with broad gold fringe and finished with enameled spurs.

"Put them on quickly," said Csaki to the Lieutenant. "You must be on your way at once without delay."

Clement took one of the boots by the two straps and began to draw it on, first looking in with a satisfied smile, but it was no small task for Csaki wore a very narrow cavalier's boot. Clement, on the other hand, moved on moderately large feet, so that he had to begin from the very beginning as many as three times and give it up from the very beginning as many times, thoroughly tired before he succeeded in getting his foot into the leg of the boot; in these exertions he worked his eyes and mouth so that Ladislaus Csaki had to put his head out of the window, he was so overcome with laughter. Then he came to the heel and there he stuck; he seized the foot gear firmly by both straps and began to stamp himself into it, thumping about the room in this bent position and groaning loudly at every push, till his eyes stood out and the perspiration ran down his face, before he had worked his way into the first boot. The same difficulties attended the second boot; but after he had used six-horse power to get his foot into this insufficient space he looked at his shining tight boots with a glow of satisfaction, though they were not in perfect harmony with the rest of his dusty, greasy, ink-spotted clothing.

"Now listen carefully to what I tell you," said Csaki, seating himself on the only chair with an air of authority, while the student still standing, lifted first one foot and then the other and his face turned green and blue with pain, for the boots began to make havoc with his corns.

"When did you make your last circuit?"

"I don't remember exactly."

"But you ought to know. Why did you not make a note of it? The Prince wishes you to set out at once and make your round without delay, paying special attention to the districts lying between Torocko, Banfy-hunyad, and Bonczida; in addition to the usual questions you are to add this one, Has anybody seen any foreign animals in the surrounding woods?"

"'Foreign animals,'" repeated mechanically the doleful official.

"And if anywhere you receive the reply that such have been seen, you are to go through that locality and examine carefully until you get track of them."

"I beg your pardon, but what kind of animals will they be?" asked the student, timorously.

"Oh, have no fear, it is neither a seven-headed dragon nor a minotaur. At the worst a young panther."

"Panther"—stammered Clement in terror.

"You are not expected to catch him," said Csaki, consolingly. "You are to hunt out where he stays and then let us know."

"Suppose that beast of prey, whose presence in Transylvania I doubt greatly, should happen to be in the territory of Dionysius Banfy, what shall I do then?"

"Follow him up."

"I beg your pardon, but his territory is baronial, where my authority does not extend."

"Don't be such a simpleton, Clement," said Csaki. "I did not say, did I, that you were to go with an armed guard? The entire expedition must be kept a secret. You and your guide alone are to get track of the beast. We have positive information that he is somewhere in this vicinity. Now a careful investigation is demanded of your skill. The rest will be given over to more fearless workers."

The entire mission seemed to Clement a very strange one, but he did not dare make any objection, and bowed with a deep sigh."Above everything else, skill, speed, secrecy. These are the three things that I recommend to your especial consideration."

"I will set out at once, gracious lord, only I must borrow a horse somewhere first, so I shall not ruin these fine boots with walking."

"That would delay matters. You must not exert yourself about a horse; one of my servants shall give up his and you can mount that. Don't forget to think of his fodder, so that you will bring him back something besides skin and bones."

So much kindness fairly bewildered Clement. In all haste he strapped on his traveling bag and his rusty sword; and after he had put in the first a roll of parchment, a pen, and a bottle of ink, declared himself ready.

"That is a light traveling bag of yours," said Csaki.

"'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, non eget Mauri jaculis, neque arcu,'" replied the philosopher, with a quotation from Horace, and, the reins being handed him, made ready to mount.

But when the spirited steed noticed that the philosophical student had put one foot in the stirrup he began to kick and circle round, compelling the poet to jump round on one foot until the laughing servant seized the horse by the bridle and helped the inoffensive rider to mount. But as he had long legs and the soldiers had shortened the stirrups, he had to stoop on his horse as if it were a camel.

Once more Ladislaus Csaki called after him not to forget his injunctions, at which the poet unintentionally struck spurs to his horse and galloped madly away over the stones. Coat, sword and traveling bag flew about the unhappy rider. He held fast to the front and back of the saddle and rode on amid the laughter of the villagers of Torocko, who sat in groups in front of their houses.

First the Lieutenant took the road to Gross-Schlatten. Formerly when he had a servant, the servant constituted his retinue. But now for lack of a servant he was compelled to go from town to town in solitude, following the directions of the village magnate. As he was trotting through a defile he noticed in a thicket a group seated about a fire. At first he thought it was a party of gypsies, until approaching nearer he discovered to his great horror that they were Tartars who were roasting an ox and sat around it in a circle. To turn around was not advisable for the way led straight past the Tartars sunning themselves, so Clement decided it was best to act as if he had no fear, and trotted calmly past the staring group. He pretended to be counting with greatest interest the fruit beside the road, and when he was quite near took off his hat as if he noticed them for the first time, murmured hurriedly, "Salem Aleikum," and rode on without looking behind. So far, so good; but at this moment up jumped two Tartars and shouted after the rider to stop. When Clement saw that the two were running toward him without any weapons, he thought perhaps they had no intention of murder and waited for them. But when the two dark-faced creatures came near, they seized the rider between them, caught hold of his legs and gave evidence of no less intentions than to strip him of his fine boots.

"A curse upon your soul!" shouted the furious Clement, laid hold of his rusty sword and tried to draw it and cut off one of their ears. But the good blade had not been drawn from its scabbard for ten years and was so rusted that, in spite of all his efforts, Clement could not draw it out. Meantime the two Tartars pulled the struggling rider this way and that by his legs and naturally did not succeed in getting off the tight boots. The Tartars berated Clement, and Clement berated the Tartars. The uproar brought the Aga, a man with a figure like an orang-outang, his brown features framed by a white beard, who inquired hoarsely what was the matter.

Clement drew out his warrant of authority and showed it to the Aga in silence, for rage stifled his voice, while the two Tartars explained something in a foreign tongue, with angry gestures, and pointed to his green boots.

"Who are you, crooked-nosed unbeliever," inquired the Aga, "that you dare wear light-green, the sacred color of the prophets, that the faithful use only for the dances of their temples and the turban of the Padisha, and that too on your boots that go through the mud? May you be burned alive, you godless giaour!"

"I am the lieutenant reconnoitering in the service of his Excellency, Michael Apafi," declaimed the former student, with pathetic distress. "My person is sacred and inviolable. I am the man who provides the armies of the Sultan with food and drink. I impose the taxes. Let me go for I am a very important personage."

This manner of defense pleased the Tartars. The Aga gave his subjects a tacit sign that meant this was the very man they wanted, and then began to speak to him in a more friendly tone.

"You said that it was your business to announce the taxes. My lord, Ali Pasha of Nagy Varad, has just sent me here to announce a new tax, so I have met you at the right moment although it is nothing for you to do; it will, however, be a sensible thing for you to give this out at the same time."

"I will do so with pleasure," said Clement, eager to get away."Wait a moment," said the Aga, motioning to him. "You do not know yet how high the tax is to be. The whole amount is a mere trifle; it is imposed only so that they may recognize our authority. The tax is only a penny a head. That is not much, is it?"

"No indeed," said Clement, agreeing that he might get away the more quickly.

"Don't hurry off," said the Aga, checking his haste. "I should be sorry to see that you did not carry out this order of mine. But as you would not consider it any perjury not to keep a promise given to us I will send one of my good men with you, who shall accompany you from village to village and see that you make the proclamation about the tax."

"By all means, your Grace," said Clement, hoping to get rid of the man in the next village.

"Mount, Zulfikar," said the Aga, to one of his men.

The man spoken to was a lean fellow with an evil, squinting glance. Although he was as dirty as the rest, his features showed that he did not belong to the same race, and if we paid close attention to so unimportant individuals, we might remember that we had already seen him somewhere.

"One thing more," said the Aga to Clement, eager to get off at any price. "As soon as you get home lay aside those green boots, for if I should see them on your feet again you would get five hundred stripes on the soles of your feet, that you would keep until your wedding day."

Clement agreed to everything in his joy to get away at last, and trotted off toward Gross-Schlatten. His Tartar comrade rode faithfully by his side. From time to time the Lieutenant gave a side glance at his companion and then looked away quickly, for as the Turk was cross-eyed Clement never felt sure which way he was looking. And all the time he was considering how easily he could dupe the Tartar, a thought that made him smile to himself, blink and nod with satisfaction.

"You will not play any tricks on me, Lieutenant," said the Tartar, unexpectedly, and in the best of Hungarian, evidently reading these thoughts on his face.

Clement almost fell off his horse with fear, unable to comprehend what fiend he could be to read a man's thoughts on his face, and speak Hungarian in spite of being a Tartar.

"You need not rack your brains any more about me," said the Turk, calmly. "I am a Hungarian deserter once in the service of Emerich Balassa. I helped seize and imprison Corsar Bey, and when the Hungarians began to pursue me for it I turned Turk. Now with the Prophet's aid I shall yet be Pasha, so don't exert yourself to get the better of me, for be assured you are dealing with an old fox."

Clement scratched his head in perplexity, and attended by the deserter, much against his will concluded his official questions with the announcement of the penny tax which the people all received with so much favor that most of them paid it over to the Tartar at once.

But nobody had seen anything of the panther; and had it not been for their respect for the green boots with their trimmings they would probably have laughed in his face when the Lieutenant put that question.

There was still one small Wallachian village, Marisel, far away in the mountains. Beyond that began the territorial jurisdiction of Banfy, and the Lieutenant's authority was at an end. There too the deserter followed him.