"Has done his duty," broke in the magistrate, "and Bagdan received the reply he deserved. But his piety and avarice will not let him rest. The loss of his ten gulden and the blasphemy, as he calls it, grieve him, so that he is having an appeal drawn up by some pettifogger here to present to the archbishop of Lemberg. That I heard this morning. Now you know the state of things in Austria. An official can do much--but a cleric can do everything. If the archbishop receives this communication, there will be an investigation, and though my conscience is clear, yet--" "I understand--I am to request Bagdan to let the matter drop. But how can I interfere? The man is quite right." "A friend is asking your help," said the magistrate, energetically. "In such a case, one does not consider right and wrong. I have not in your case. The man's name is Ignatius Tondka. Please make a note of it and write to your farmer to-day." Agenor turned his back, then walked hastily up and down the room. At last he drew out his note-book and wrote the name. "My best thanks," exclaimed the magistrate. "Your letter will go off to-day, will it not? _Au revoir_." CHAPTER V. Agenor was still under the excitement of this interview when he went to the appointment with Judith. "The reptile!" he muttered, as he descended the steps into the park, clenching his fists until the nails penetrated the flesh. "I must shake off this toad, who is defiling both Judith and myself." But as he walked hurriedly through the rustling leaves towards the pine _allée_, the only one that could afford a shelter at this season of the year, his anger gradually evaporated, until he felt but one sensation, that of longing for Judith's sweet presence. "I will tell her everything," he thought, "and she must choose for herself;" and the thought found expression in words even, but he felt he only uttered them to keep to his resolution. After he had waited a half-hour, there was only one word which he continually and hoarsely repeated, as if in a delirium--"Come! Come!" At last he heard her swift step among the leaves, and caught sight of her dress glinting among the trees. She came hastily, with a glowing face. The lace mantilla she had wrapped about her head had become partly undone, and fluttered over her auburn hair. "At last!" he murmured, rushing to meet her. She stood still, and when she saw his passionate face a trembling seized her limbs, and she stretched out her hands imploringly. He scarcely observed it. "At last!" he repeated, catching the half-resisting girl in his arms, while his lips sought hers till he found them. But only for a moment, for then she released herself. "Please do not make it harder for me than it is, for now it is bitter enough; but--" "Why, what is the matter? You were not like this yesterday, you--"