"Don't be alarmed!" growled the virago. "Don't you hear that this gentleman wants to speak to you? Are you afraid he will bite your nose off?" And with these words she seized the child's hand roughly and pushed her towards the stranger. The stranger softly patted the child's little head. "Don't be afraid of me, my little girl! You have no reason to fear me. What is your name?" "Betsey!" replied the virago. "Ah, why Betsey? Such a coarse, common name for such a tender child! I would call her Elise, that is far prettier. Besides, the two names mean one and the same thing." "Nay, nay, you will spoil the child, sir. As if she was not spoilt enough by her father already. Peasant folks call their daughters Betsey or Polly; Elise and Lisetta are the names of gentlefolks' children. You must not listen to such nonsense, child; but go and tell your father that there is a gentleman here from Poland who wants to speak to him immediately before he lies down." The child timidly withdrew her little hand from the stranger's, who seemed very disinclined to let it go, and hastened to her father's room. The stranger thereupon tidied up his clothing, smoothed back his hair on both sides of his forehead, thereby giving to his features a gentle amiable expression, and softly tapped at the headsman's door. "Come in!" resounded a deep melancholy voice from within. The unknown youth entered and carefully closed the door behind him. The moment he was well within the room, the smile of frivolous braggadocio he had lately assumed entirely disappeared from his face; the defiantly thrown back head bent meekly down; a look of devout inspiration was visible on the thin lips and in the veiled eyes; the whole figure of the man seemed to have grown smaller, the shoulders contracted, the breast receded; he had now the air of a gracious and benignant missionary. And a benignant missionary indeed it was who now stood face to face with the headsman. The herculean figure of the headsman arose slowly and tremulously, and while his hand with furtive anxiety sought the hand of the little girl, he asked the stranger in a scarcely audible voice what he required of him. Perchance the latter did not catch what he said, he spoke so low. "Peace and blessing be upon this house!" said the unknown in a voice full of tender unction. "Amen, amen!" the headsman hastened to reply. "Heaven's blessing descend upon thy heart, my son!" said the youth to the old man raising his hand in blessing. "He is a pastor, a priest," said the headsman to himself, "he has all the appearance of it." Peter Zudár stooped down towards the youth's hand and kissed it. He durst not touch it with his own hand but with his lips only. "A priest in _my_ house, forsooth! My child! take the gentleman by the hand and lead him to the arm-chair, make him sit down! Thy hands are clean, they may touch him. Oh! a man of God in _my_ house! I never dared to hope so much."