In the narrow belt, which she wore in the ancient Magyar fashion, round her waist, she had hidden a few pieces of gold; on her feet she had thick, heavy boots, and over her shoulders hung a rough cloak of antiquated cut, which might be put over her head like a hood if necessary. Somehow Talabor had never admired her so much before as he did now. Moses stared at her wide-eyed, for of late he had seen her always in black. The old huntsman looked as if he were wondering what new madness this might mean, and one can hardly be surprised at him. But he was always respectful to Dora, and next to the old castle, and the woods, and Master Peter, he loved her better than anything else in the world! Talabor came next to her in his affections, but a good way behind. "Mr. Moses," began Dora gravely, addressing him first as she always did, because he was governor, in name at least, if not in fact, "I think the time has come for us to follow your advice; we have not men enough to defend the castle, and if it is true that the whole country is laid waste, it is very likely that one of the horrible Tartars who came before will take it into his head to come again. Besides, the thieves who have deserted us know how few we are, and how much plate there is in the chests; and what is to hinder their coming back? Well, at any rate, I have made up my mind to leave the castle, but I mean to be the last. I shall not go until I know that every one is as safe as he can be." "I don't stir a step without you, mistress," exclaimed Moses. "I am Dora Szirmay, Master Peter's daughter, and my faithful governor will obey my orders!" returned Dora, in tones so decided that it was plain she had not forgotten how to command. Mr. Moses was silenced, and Dora went on, still in the same grave way, "I know that you are faithful, that no one is truer to my father and me than yourself, and so I can give you my orders with trust and confidence. You, Mr. Moses, and everyone that is left in the castle, except Talabor and Gábor, will go to-day as soon as it is dusk, to old Gödri, the charcoal-burner. You can take Jakó's pony with you in case anyone should be tired, and be sure you take all the arms you can carry. The food, too, you must take all that, though I am afraid there is not much left, for we have all been hungry for some time past, if we have not been actually famished. When that is gone, there are the woods; and no hunter ever died of starvation." "But yourself, my dear young mistress?" asked Moses. "I stay here in the meantime with Talabor and Gábor. You know all I wish done besides, good Mr. Moses," said Dora gently, with a smile, rather sad than cheerful. "I need not tell you all to be prudent," she continued. "That we must every one of us be. Take all the care you can of yourselves!" "And what about the horses?"