But his Excellency was looking after his ball, for he knew what he was about at billiards, and scored heavily. The next day the district commissioner went to the Assembly House to investigate the sort of cell Ráby had been removed to. But when he could not find it, and moreover, could, by no means whatever obtain from the officials where the prisoner might be housed, he went again to the governor to demand an explanation. This led to recriminations between the two functionaries as to the respective limits of their jurisdictions, and they parted on very cool terms. "I don't envy his next visitor," whispered the secretary to one of his colleagues, "whoever it is, he won't get a warm welcome." And sure enough, one was just then announced. The governor was busy writing to the Kaiser, and he resented this intrusion. "Excellency, it is a petitioner," ventured the secretary timidly. "Send him to the devil, then!" "But it is a young lady, Excellency." "I don't want any young ladies here. What the deuce does she want with me, I should like to know?" But the secretary whispered a name that caused the angry governor to spring up hastily, and ask: "What is she doing here? Has anyone come with her?" "Excellency, she is alone." "Alone? Let her come in, then." It is easy to guess who the stranger lady was. She wore her ordinary morning-gown, just as she had slipped out from her household duties, without anyone knowing, but in her blue eyes lay woe unutterable. And it was only with those same eyes that she spoke; not a word did she utter; not a gesture did she make. She sank at the feet of that hard man, and seized his hands in both of hers, and hid her face and wept at his feet. "Come, come, this won't do, little one! I can't have tears! Now, child, tell me" (he was her godfather), "what brings you here alone? How if anyone met you in the street? What is it? What is the matter? Can you not say a word? Shall I have to talk instead? Shall I guess what it is you want? You come here on behalf of that scoundrel, Ráby, eh? Nay, there's no dungeon deep enough for him, the rogue, the graceless knave, the good-for-nothing that he is----" But Mariska--for it was she--suddenly pressed both hands over the speaker's mouth to stop his denunciations. "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed his Excellency maliciously. "So you've come in case I am treating him too harshly, have you? Never mind, he shall carry fifty pounds weight of chains on his feet before we've done with him." But at these words the poor girl pressed her hands to her heaving breast in dumb entreaty, and her breath came in short gasps.