To hide his own confusion, Zagoni thought he could not do better than whisper consolation to Szasy. The deputy of Olahfalva had now to take his turn. It was indeed high time that something amusing should happen, for while the Prince had thus been distributing rewards and punishments, the smile had gradually vanished from every face; nothing short of the discomfiture of the quaint and crafty boor could now restore the general hilarity. "What I promised you," said the Prince, scarcely able to repress his inward merriment, "is yours. If it give you any satisfaction, you may henceforth regard Olahfalva as only two miles distant from Klausenburg instead of twenty; let him also who has no horse go on foot as you desire. But we grant this with the express reservation that you are not to take any timber to the market of Klausenburg, and that you always give the couriers the necessary relays of horses." The Szekler grinned, shook his head, and then looked very hard at the Prince, as if to find out how Apafi could possibly have got to the bottom of his artifice. The wondering, puzzled face of the Olahfalvian was too much for Apafi's gravity, and he burst into a loud guffaw, in which everybody present joined him. The Szekler, whose face had hitherto worn a bewildered smile, suddenly became quite serious, threw back his head defiantly, cast a furious look around, half stripped off his short jacket, and exclaimed-- "Harkye, gentlemen! If the Prince chooses to make merry with me, I suffer it; but I'll trouble you all not to laugh so at my expense." The Prince beckoned to them to be silent, and diverted their attention by calling forward the itinerant scholar Clement, who shambled up on his long, lean legs, as if he were every moment about to fall on his knees. "We have commanded our treasurer," said the Prince, "to pay to you out of our privy purse three _marias_[20] for the work which you have handed to us." [Footnote 20: _Maria._ An old Hungarian coin worth about thirty-five kreutzers.] "Your Highness was pleased to observe--" stammered the confounded poet. "You heard very well. I said three _marias_. That is about the value of the writing materials which you have wasted upon this pedigree. Another time employ your leisure more profitably." The Prince then signified that the audience was at an end. The gentlemen quitted the tent with many a deep obeisance. Kucsuk Pasha alone remained behind. During the whole of this scene the Pasha had been shaking his head, as if he had not expected all this from Apafi. He could not help remarking too that Apafi now needed no one to remind him how to preserve his princely dignity in the presence of others. Apafi wore an affable air; but it was the affability of princely condescension. "We have learnt with regret," he began, turning towards the Pasha, "that we must shortly lose you, whose valour we so much admire, whose friendship we so much esteem." The Pasha looked up with astonishment.