Night had fallen. The horses were tired out. Beldi had nowhere given them rest, nowhere changed them for fresh ones. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible. He wanted to meet face to face the woman who had so disgraced him, heaven only knew how much! But why be content to see a woman weep or die, when there was a man on whom vengeance could be taken? A man who had ever been his foe, from the time when they had been pages together at Prince Gabriel Bethlen's court, and had now fastened on the most sensitive spot in his heart and ruthlessly torn it. "Turn back," he cried to the coachman, "and go in the direction of Klausenburg." The old servant shook his head; turned into a side-path, and so completely lost himself in the darkness of the night, that he was forced to confess to his master that he really did not know where he was. Beldi's rage and impatience knew no bounds. Looking about him, he perceived a small light burning at no great distance, and sulkily bade his coachman drive in that direction. It was into the courtyard of a lonely country-house that they rolled at last, and Beldi recognized in the master of the house, who appeared at the barking of the large watch-dogs, old Adam Gyergyai, one of his dearest friends, who, when he saw Beldi, rushed into his arms, and was beside himself with joy. "God be with you!" said the good old man, covering his guest with kisses. "I will not ask what piece of good fortune has brought you to me." "To tell the truth, I've lost my way. I was on the road to Klausenburg. I must get there to-night; but I'll rest my horses here for an hour or two if you'll let me." "What pressing business is this you have on hand?" "I must deliver a message," replied Beldi evasively. "If that be all, why so much hurry? Write it down, and one of my mounted servants shall immediately take it to its destination while you remain here." "You are right," said Beldi, after some reflection; "it will be better to send a letter," and with that he asked for writing materials, sat down, and wrote to Banfi. The mere act of writing generally clears and calms the mind, so that it was in a fairly moderate tone that Beldi challenged Banfi to meet him at Szamos-Ujvar on an affair of honour. Beldi then sealed the letter and gave it to Gyergyai, requesting him to forward it at once. "So you are writing to Banfi, my brother?" said the old man, looking at the address of the letter. "Why, you only parted from him a little time ago! What is all this between you?" "Do you recollect the time, my father," said Beldi, "when you saw Banfi and me fight together in the lists at the tournament held by Prince George Rakoczy?" "Quite well! On that occasion you had both vanquished every other competitor, but could do nothing against each other." "You then said that you would very much like to see which of the two would beat the other if we set to it in earnest." "Yes; I well remember it." "Well, now you _shall_ see!"