The Count,
who was the head of one of the richest and most aristocratic
families in Hungary, threw off his heavy fur coat and hastened up
the stairs at the top of which his old friend and confidant, the
venerable pastor, usually came to meet him. To-day it was only the
local magistrate who stood there, bowing deeply.
"This is incredible, incredible!" exclaimed the Count.
"It is, indeed, sir," said the man, leading the magnate through the
dining-room into the pastor's study, where, as far as could be seen,
the murder had been committed. They were joined by the district
judge, who had remained behind to give an order sending a carriage
to the nearest railway station. The judge, too, was serious and
deeply shocked, for he also had greatly admired and revered the old
pastor. The stately rectory had been the scene of many a jovial
gathering when the lord of the manor had made it a centre for a day's
hunting with his friends. The bearers of some of the proudest names
in all Hungary had gathered in the high-arched rooms to laugh with
the venerable pastor and to sample the excellent wines in his cellar.
These wines, which the gentlemen themselves would send in as
presents to the master of the rectory, would be carefully preserved
for their own enjoyment.
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