How quickly the month at the farm-house passed! Every day there was so much to see and do, and once in a while there was an excursion to some place of interest. The furthest one taken was when Jonitza and Katinka went with the maid who had accompanied Jonitza's mother to the country, for a couple of days' visit to her home in a place called Niamtz.

The day after they reached the straggling village, the children were allowed out to play. They were attracted to a great red earth cliff, where they began digging tunnels and building little cave houses. Tiring of that they wandered up toward the cliff's summit, gathering the beautiful wild flowers that they found on the way, and resting now and then under some leafy tree. When they reached the top they both shouted with delight at finding the ruins of a castle. What a delightful place in which to play! There were four corner towers, strong buttresses and battlemented walls, as well as a large moat all the way around, now overgrown with trees.

Jonitza, who was blessed with a good memory, recalled what he had been told about the place and so hastened to instruct Katinka in his own fashion, emphasizing every word that he considered of importance. "This," said he, in his tutor's manner, "is the old castle celebrated in many of our songs, of one of our greatest kings called Stephen the Great.

"One day, Stephen the Great was fighting the Turks who were winning. He thought it was no use fighting any longer and made for home as quickly as he could. He thought his mother would be glad he wasn't killed. But instead of that she met him at the big gate you see over there, and told him he ought to be ashamed to give up; that he was fighting to free his people, and that she wouldn't ever open the gates to him and his army unless he came back as victor." (Here Jonitza gave an especial emphasis to the last word.) "So Stephen said, 'All right,' and went back. He met the Turks in a narrow valley and was so mad that he killed almost every one of them. He was a very brave man, and I'm going to be like him."

These last words were hardly spoken when there was a clap of thunder and flash of lightning, followed by a sudden heavy downpour of rain. The children hurried to shelter which they found in one of the towers.

It was dark there and the wind and rain threatened to break through the walls. Bat-like things flew about, and strange noises, like the mournful voices of imprisoned spirits, began to be heard. Jonitza lost his brave air entirely as he and his companion crouched side by side against one of the walls. Suddenly there was a peculiarly long whistle, probably made by the wind passing through some crevice. Katinka gave a little shriek. "It is the Stafii," she cried, clinging to her friend.

Jonitza, though trembling, put his arm around her. He knew very well that she was referring to harmful elves whom all the Roumanian country folk believe dwell in ruins and are always unfriendly to human beings. He tried to think of something comforting to say, but at first only managed to clear his throat. After a bit what he did whisper was: "We ought to have some milk to give them." At this Katinka cried more than ever. "That's what they say, but we haven't any, we haven't any," she repeated almost in a shriek.

This was followed by another shriek as a dark form shut out what little light reached them. But it was only Maritza, who had come with a big umbrella to their rescue.