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wine？〃
Swithin looked at the ground。 'Not if I know it！' he thought。
〃Ah！〃 said the Hungarian with dignity； 〃you do not wish for my
friendship！〃
'Touchy beggar！' thought Swithin。 〃Of course；〃 he stammered； 〃if you
put it in that way〃
The Hungarian bowed； murmuring； 〃Forgive me！〃
They had not gone a dozen steps before a youth； with a beardless face
and hollow cheeks； accosted them。 〃For the love of Christ；
gentlemen；〃 he said； 〃help me！〃
〃Are you a German？〃 asked Boleskey。
〃Yes；〃 said the youth。
〃Then you may rot！〃
〃Master； look here！〃 Tearing open his coat； the youth displayed his
skin； and a leather belt drawn tight round it。 Again Swithin felt
that desire to take to his heels。 He was filled with horrid
forebodingsa sense of perpending intimacy with things such as no
gentleman had dealings with。
The Hungarian crossed himself。 〃Brother；〃 he said to the youth；
〃come you in！〃
Swithin looked at them askance； and followed。 By a dim light they
groped their way up some stairs into a large room； into which the
moon was shining through a window bulging over the street。 A lamp
burned low； there was a smell of spirits and tobacco； with a faint；
peculiar scent； as of rose leaves。 In one corner stood a czymbal； in
another a great pile of newspapers。 On the wall hung some old…
fashioned pistols； and a rosary of yellow beads。 Everything was
tidily arranged； but dusty。 Near an open fireplace was a table with
the remains of a meal。 The ceiling； floor； and walls were all of
dark wood。 In spite of the strange disharmony； the room had a sort
of refinement。 The Hungarian took a bottle out of a cupboard and；
filling some glasses； handed one to Swithin。 Swithin put it gingerly
to his nose。 'You never know your luck！ Come！' he thought； tilting
it slowly into his mouth。 It was thick； too sweet； but of a fine
flavour。
〃Brothers！〃 said the Hungarian； refilling； 〃your healths！〃
The youth tossed off his wine。 And Swithin this time did the same；
he pitied this poor devil of a youth now。 〃Come round to…morrow！〃 he
said； 〃I'll give you a shirt or two。〃 When the youth was gone；
however； he remembered with relief that he had not given his address。
'Better so；' he reflected。 'A humbug； no doubt。'
〃What was that you said to him？〃 he asked of the Hungarian。
〃I said；〃 answered BoLeskey； 〃'You have eaten and drunk； and now you
are my enemy！'〃
〃Quite right！〃 said Swithin； 〃quite right！ A beggar is every man's
enemy。〃
〃You do not understand；〃 the Hungarian replied politely。 〃While he
was a beggarI； too； have had to beg〃 （Swithin thought； 'Good God！
this is awful！'）； 〃but now that he is no longer hungry； what is he
but a German？ No Austrian dog soils my floors！〃
His nostrils； as it seemed to Swithin； had distended in an unpleasant
fashion； and a wholly unnecessary raucousness invaded his voice。 〃I
am an exileall of my blood are exiles。 Those Godless dogs！〃
Swithin hurriedly assented。
As he spoke； a face peeped in at the door。
〃Rozsi！〃 said the Hungarian。 A young girl came in。 She was rather
short； with a deliciously round figure and a thick plait of hair。
She smiled； and showed her even teeth； her little； bright； wide…set
grey eyes glanced from one man to the other。 Her face was round；
too； high in the cheekbones； the colour of wild roses； with brows
that had a twist…up at the corners。 With a gesture of alarm； she put
her hand to her cheek； and called； 〃Margit！〃 An older girl appeared；
taller； with fine shoulders； large eyes； a pretty mouth； and what
Swithin described to himself afterwards as a 〃pudding〃 nose。 Both
girls； with little cooing sounds； began attending to their father's
face。
Swithin turned his back to them。 His arm pained him。
'This is what comes of interfering；' he thought sulkily； 'I might
have had my neck broken！' Suddenly a soft palm was placed in his； two
eyes； half…fascinated； half…shy； looked at him； then a voice called；
〃Rozsi！〃 the door was slammed； he was alone again with the Hungarian；
harassed by a sense of soft disturbance。
〃Your daughter's name is Rosy？〃 he said； 〃we have it in Englandfrom
rose； a flower。〃
〃Rozsi （Rozgi）；〃 the Hungarian replied； 〃your English is a hard
tongue； harder than French； German； or Czechish； harder than Russian；
or RoumanianI know no more。〃
〃What？〃 said Swithin； 〃six languages？〃 Privately he thought； 'He
knows how to lie； anyway。'
〃If you lived in a country like mine；〃 muttered the Hungarian； 〃with
all men's hands against you！ A free peopledyingbut not dead！〃
Swithin could not imagine what he was talking of。 This man's face；
with its linen bandage； gloomy eyes； and great black wisps of beard；
his fierce mutterings； and hollow cough； were all most unpleasant。
He seemed to be suffering from some kind of mental dog…bite。 His
emotion indeed appeared so indecent； so uncontrolled and open； that
its obvious sincerity produced a sort of awe in Swithin。 It was like
being forced to look into a furnace。 Boleskey stopped roaming up and
down。 〃You think it's over？〃 he said； 〃I tell you； in the breast of
each one of us Magyars there is a hell。 What is sweeter than life？
What is more sacred than each breath we draw？ Ah！ my country！〃
These words were uttered so slowly； with such intense mournfulness；
that Swithin's jaw relaxed； he converted the movement to a yawn。
〃Tell me；〃 said Boleskey； 〃what would you do if the French conquered
you？〃
Swithin smiled。 Then suddenly； as though something had hurt him； he
grunted； 〃The 'Froggies'？ Let 'em try！〃
〃Drink！〃 said Boleskey〃there is nothing like it〃； he filled
Swithin's glass。 〃I will tell you my story。〃
Swithin rose hurriedly。 〃It's late；〃 he said。 〃This is good stuff；
though； have you much of it？〃
〃It is the last bottle。〃
〃What？〃 said Swithin； 〃and you gave it to a beggar？〃
〃My name is BoleskeyStefan；〃 the Hungarian said； raising his head；
〃of the Komorn Boleskeys。〃 The simplicity of this phraseas who
shall say： What need of further description？made an impression on
Swithin； he stopped to listen。 Boleskey's story went on and on。
〃There were many abuses；〃 boomed his deep voice； 〃much wrong done
much cowardice。 I could see clouds gatheringrolling over our
plains。 The Austrian wished to strangle the breath of our mouthsto
take from us the shadow of our libertythe shadowall we had。 Two
years agothe year of '48； when every man and boy answered the great
voicebrother； a dog's life！to use a pen when all of your blood
are fighting； but it was decreed for me！ My son was killed； my
brothers takenand myself was thrown out like a dogI had written
out my heart； I had written out all the blood that was in my body！〃
He seemed to tower； a gaunt shadow of a man； with gloomy； flickering
eyes staring at the wall。
Swithin rose； and stammered； 〃Much obligedvery interes