And sure enough, there was Fruzsinka awaiting them at the gate, and it was touching to see how she fell on Ráby's neck, sobbing her heart out, for she had feared some harm had come to him. Nor did she recover herself, but the whole evening trembled every time the alarm bell rang, and was inattentive to their distinguished guest's choicest anecdotes which he told for their benefit during supper. Before he left, the news came that the wood was quite destroyed by the fire. "It is all your fault," he cried to Ráby. "Had you never raised that unlucky question about the timber, no one would have thought of setting fire to the wood, and this enormous damage might have been avoided." Only the presence of his wife prevented Ráby coming to blows with the district commissioner. CHAPTER XVI. Ráby had said nothing to Fruzsinka of what had happened at the commission. But when the guest had gone, he brought out his travelling bag and began to pack up as if for a journey. "Is it possible you are going on a journey?" asked Fruzsinka reproachfully, "without telling me? Don't you know that the wife packs for her husband?" Ráby did not want his wife to guess whither he was bound. So he made her believe he was only going as far as Tyrnau to take the official depositions regarding the Szent-Endre affair; though since the commission had reduced the whole business to such a farce, how to produce his proofs and, as prosecutor, lay the matter before them at head-quarters, he hardly knew himself. So he told her he could not take her with him, because he would have to travel by diligence or in a peasant's cart, and such a jaunt would be too trying in winter for a delicate woman. "Now if I were you, I would not go to Tyrnau; I would rather go straight to Vienna, and tell the Emperor himself what roguery is going forward here." Ráby was astounded. This was precisely what he had intended to do, and the journey to Tyrnau had only been a pretext. "I would lay the whole plot before him," went on Fruzsinka, "and would say, 'Sire, send a man in my place who may bring these conspirators to book, and make an end to their intrigues.'" Ráby began to understand. Then he said aloud: "But I don't know of any man who would take on such an unthankful business." "Is it possible that you mean then to go on with the struggle?" asked Fruzsinka plaintively. "Dearest, I beseech you, think of our position. We are living among enemies. Those who were not ashamed to set fire to the wood, to wipe out the proof of their guilt, will not shrink from burning our own house over our heads. I tremble each time you go out, and have no peace till I see you again. Every night I dream they have murdered you. O Ráby, the very thought of living among these people makes me shudder, there are surely no other such vindictive folk on the face of the earth. Come away from this place. Let us go to Vienna! There your career is made. Leave this thankless, malevolent people to their fate!"