The boy passed through an iron gate and we went up a few steps till we came to a door with glass panes. I was very nervous. I was going to ask for shelter from people who themselves were threatened. I felt painfully ashamed of myself. “There is the bell!” the boy said. Yet I still hesitated. Only those who have stood on a stranger’s threshold, doubting the quality of their welcome, can appreciate my feelings. The boy deposited the bag, asked for his money and ran away. The ringing of the bell broke the silence of the house, and the sudden sound frightened me. I imagined the uneasiness caused to those within. In these times even a knock in broad daylight is enough to cause alarm. Rapid steps approached from the further end of the long corridor and a frightened maid asked me what I wanted. “Will you say that Elisabeth Földváry has arrived?” Doors opened; there was a ray of light, and in its beam a fine setter ran barking towards me, followed by Aladár Huszár. I had only once seen him before, but I recognised him at once; his fair head and his broad shoulders showed up clearly against the lamp light. For an instant he looked at me searchingly: “Elisabeth Földváry?...” By now we were alone, and I whispered my real name to him. He jerked his head in surprise. “We were told yesterday that you had escaped to Switzerland.” “Help me to get across the Ipoly!” “There’s no hurry, we will discuss it; now come inside quickly.” He picked up my bag and we went into the house as if we were old friends. We crossed the small hall and entered a room in which the light was reflected from the glass doors of high bookcases, and comfortable furniture stood on oriental carpets. I was met by a remarkably beautiful young woman. Her forehead was like marble and her eyebrows met over her big blue eyes shaded by dark eyelashes. Her face was cold and her features seemed nearly rigid. I felt anxious: What was she going to say? She seemed neither astonished nor nervous, though she had lately been told I had escaped abroad, and she behaved as if it had been the most natural thing in the world for a stranger wanted by the police to drop in on them in the middle of the night. She gave her orders quietly, calmly: [Illustration: EUGENE HAMBURGER. CLERK. COMMISSARY FOR AGRICULTURE. ] “We will make up a bed here in the library; we have no other room. Red officers are quartered on the first floor. They wanted to plant Communists in our two spare rooms, so we put our old coachman there.” I leant wearily against a bookcase: the room was going round. Then they gave me hot food, and I could detect in the sympathetic expression of Huszár that hunger, sleepless nights, cold and suffering had left their marks upon my face. My dress was hanging on me and my hands trembled. The children, two little girls and a boy, came in. They were told I was a relation of theirs. In a few minutes I watched them being put to bed.