[Footnote 32: Sir.]
Late one afternoon Baron Leonard Hatszegi might have been seen on foot
crossing the bridge which led to the Mikalai _csarda_, and entering its
courtyard. He came on foot with a small box under his arm and his
double-barrelled gun across his shoulder. Makkabesku greeted him from
the verandah while he was still a long way off.
"God be with your lordship! Is anything amiss that your lordship comes
on foot?"
"Yes, at that cursed _tyira lupului_[33] the axle of my coach gave way.
I have always said that that bad bit of road ought to be seen to, this
is at least the sixth time that this accident has befallen me."
[Footnote 33: Wolf-corner.]
"God is the cause thereof, your lordship. Whenever the stream overflows
it damages the road."
"That is no consolation for me. My fellows are struggling with the coach
yonder and cannot set it upright again, so badly damaged it is. It is a
good job I was driving my own horses, for otherwise my neck might have
been broken. As it is one of my heydukes has sprained his hand. Send
help to them at once, or they are likely to remain there all night.
Where's your little girl?"
"Ah, my lord! your lordship will always be having your little
joke.--Flora, come hither!"
A pretty little maid came out of the inn at these words, and smiled upon
the nobleman with a face toasted red by the kitchen fire.
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