The young cavalier who had thus hastened to find him was not his brother Desi, but--Pepi Gyali.

Pepi was no taller, no more manly-looking than he had been ten years before; he had still that childish face, those tiny features, the same refined movements. He was still as strict an adherent to fashion: and if time had wrought a change in him, it was only to be seen in a certain, distinguished bearing,--that of those who often have the opportunity of playing the protector toward their former friends.

"Good day, dear Lorand," he said in a gay tone, antic.i.p.ating Lorand. "Do you still recognize me?"

("Ah," thought Lorand: "you are here as the finger-post of death.")

"I did not want to avoid you: as soon as I knew from the Balnokhazys that you were here, I came to find you."

After all it was "_she_" that had put him on Lorand's track!

"I have business here with Sarvolgyi in Madame Balnokhazy's interest--a legal agreement."

Lorand's only thought, while Gyali was uttering these words, was--how to behave himself in the presence of this man.

"I hope," said the visitor tenderly extending his hand to Lorand, "that that old wrangle which happened ten years ago has long been forgotten by you--as it has by me."

("He wishes to make me recollect it, if perchance I had forgotten.")

"And we shall again be faithful comrades and true."

One thought ran like lightning in a moment through Lorand's brain. "If I kick this fellow out now as would be my method, everyone would clearly understand the origin of the catastrophe, and take it as satisfaction for an insult. No, they must have no such triumph: this wretch must see that the man who is gazing into the face of his own death is in no way behind him, who burns to persecute him to the end with exquisiteness, in cheerful mood."

So Lorand did not get angry, did not show any sullenness or melancholy, but, as he was wont to do in student days of yore, slapped the dandy's open hand and grasped it in manly fashion.

"So glad to see you, Pepi. Why the devil should I not have recognised you? Only I imagined that you would have aged as much as I have since that time, and now you stand before me the same as ever. I almost asked you what we had to learn for to-morrow?"

"I am glad of that! Nothing has caused me any displeasure in my life except the fact that we parted in anger--we, the gay comrades!--and quarrelled!--why? for a dirty newspaper! The devil take them all!--Taken all together they are not worth a quarrel between two comrades. Well, not a word more about it!"

"Well, my boy, very well, if your intentions are good. In any case we are country fellows who can stand a good deal from one another. To-day we calumniate each other, to-morrow we carouse together."

Ha, ha, ha!

"But you must introduce me to the old man. I hear he is a gay old fool.

He does not like priests. Why I can tell him enough tales about priests to keep him going for a week. Come, introduce me. I know his mouth will never cease laughing, once I begin upon him."

"Naturally it is understood that you will remain here with us."

"Of course. Old Sarvolgyi, as it is, had made sour faces enough at the unusual invasion of guests: and he has a cursedly sullen housekeeper.

Besides it is disagreeable always to have to say nice things to the two ladies: that's not why a fellow comes to the country. _A propos_, I hear you have a beautiful gypsy girl here."

"You know that too, already?"

"I hope you are not jealous of her?"

"What, the devil! of a gypsy girl?"

("Well just try it with her," thought Lorand, "at any rate you will get 'per procura,' that box on the ears which I cannot give you.")

"Ha, ha! we shall not fight a duel for a gypsy girl, shall we, my boy?"

"Nor for any other girl."

"You have become a wise man like me: I like that. A woman is only a woman. Among others, what do you say to Madame Balnokhazy? I find she is still more beautiful than her daughter. _Ma foi_, on my word of honor!

Those ten years on the stage have only done her good. I believe she is still in love with you."

"That's quite natural," said Lorand in jesting scorn.

In the meantime they had reached the park; they found Topandy and Czipra by the bridge. Lorand introduced Pepi Gyali as his old school-fellow.

That name fairly magnetized Czipra.--Melanie's fiance!--So the lover had come after his bride. What a kind fellow this Pepi Gyali was! A really most amiable young man!

Gyali quite misunderstood the favorable impression his name and appearance made on Czipra: he was ready to attribute it to his irresistible charms.

After briefly making the acquaintance of the old man, he very rapidly took over the part of courtier, which every cavalier according to the rules of the world is bound to do; besides, she was a gypsy girl, and--Lorand was not jealous.

"You have in one moment explained to me something over which I have racked my brains a whole day."

"What can that be?" inquired Czipra curiously.

"How it is that some one can prefer fried fish and fried rolls at Sarvolgyi's to cabbage at Topandy's?"

"Who may that someone be?"

"Why, I could not understand that Miss Melanie was able to persuade herself to change this house for that; now I know: she must have put up with a great persecution here."

"Persecution?" said Czipra, astonished:--the gentlemen too stared at the speaker.--"Who would have persecuted her?"

"Who? Why these eyes!" said Gyali, gazing flatteringly into Czipra's eyes. "The poor girl could not stand the rivalry. It is quite natural that the moon, however sweet and poetic a phenomenon, always flees before the sun."

To Czipra this speech was very surprising. There are many who do not like overburdened sweetness.

"Ah, Melanie is far more beautiful than I," she said, casting her eyes down, and growing very serious.

"Well it is my bounden duty to believe in that, as in all the miracles of the apostles: but I cannot help it, if you have made a heretic of me."

Czipra turned her head aside and gazed down into the water with eyes of insulted pride: while Lorand, who was standing behind Gyali, thought within himself:

("If I take you by the neck and drown you in that water, you would deserve it, and it will do good to my soul: but I should know I had murdered you: and no one should ever be able to boast of _that_? My name shall never be connected with yours in death.")

For Lorand might well have known that Gyali's appearance on that day had no other object than that of reminding Lorand of his awful obligation.

"My dear boy," said Lorand patting Gyali's shoulder playfully, "I must show what a general I should have made. I have an important journey this afternoon to Szolnok."

"Well, go; don't bother yourself on my account. Do exactly as you please."

"That's not how matters lie, Pepi: you must not stay here in the meantime."