"Am I in time?" asked István, with a little artificial breathlessness, as he reached the scene of action. "Pasha would have fetched it in a moment: I wish he were here!"
"But since he is not, Baron Tolnay, would it not be more logical to wish that the hat had never fallen in?"
"But I wish nothing of the sort. If the hat were still on your head, I should be still on the bridge."
"Oh, were you on the bridge?" said Gretchen, with a movement of surprise, quite as artificial as István's breathlessness.
"I have been standing there for ages."
"Indeed!" with her nose rather high in the air. "You must have found the bridge very entertaining?"
"Very; with such a picture to look at."
"You admire landscapes?"
"Not unless there are foreground figures in them."
"Those Roumanians are very picturesque, certainly."
István laughed.
"You surely do not suppose that I was looking at that vermin? There, stand back!" as the triumphant Bujor held out the dripping hat. "Stand back, you dog, I say!"
"Baron Tolnay!"
The grey eyes looked almost stern for a moment. "Do you call this justice? How can you treat him in this way?"
István gazed at her in genuine surprise.
"But he is not accustomed to being treated in any other way, Fräulein Mohr!"
"I treat him in another way."
"But they are vermin, you know," said István, good-naturedly.
"Baron Tolnay —"
"You object? Very well, Fräulein Mohr, to oblige you, I will retract. I will not say that they are vermin. I will even go the length of saying they are not vermin, should that give you the very smallest satisfaction. Look, you shall mark the generosity of my forgiving soul" and he took a handful of loose silver from his pocket and tossed it negligently towards Bujor. "This is the only language they understand."
Gretchen half expected the insulted peasant to fold his arms, and with his foot to spurn the proffered coin, haughty and disdainful, as an ancient hero defying a tyrant. But, alas for the degeneracy of these days! This man, who could have stood as model of a Roman centurion, now humbly crouched down, and uttering an abject "Mulczanim Domno!" (I thank you, master!) patiently searched for the scattered coins which had been flung to him upon the stones of the river-side.
"How very generous of you to forgive him for having saved my hat!" said Gretchen, still with a ring of scorn in her voice.
"Not generous, magnanimous! It is positively noble of me not to grudge any one the pleasure of having served you."
The tone of the conversation was becoming perilous, thought Gretchen; it was safer to let it drop. She was quick at these conversational skirmishes, but he was quicker; and there were moments when she felt an uneasy distrust of this man, with his brilliant conversation, his brilliant eyes, his brilliant smile, and his over-brilliant boots.
With her face turned towards the river, Gretchen stood and watched the hurrying waters; Tolnay stood beside her. The rescued hat lay beside them on the rock, slowly drying in the breeze.
