At this height not even the thrush's whistle broke the stillness.
The sun shone down. Not a breeze was stirring. My head was resting on a large green mossy stone; I felt like dropping off to sleep.
All at once, as if I really were dreaming, from somewhere not very far off a song rang out:--
"Lo! on the mountain top A valiant man doth stand, And on his trusty weapon rests His stalwart good right hand."
It was a man's voice, and I seemed to recognise it.
My first feeling was joy. I was about to meet some old acquaintance in that vast wilderness. It only occurred to me afterwards that this would be contrary to my compact. I was to meet no man who could possibly recognise me.
But it was too late to avoid him now. Only one single path led up to the summit of the Precipice Stone, whether one came from Tordona or from Malyinka, and my songster was evidently coming from the latter place.
The next verse of the song sounded very much nearer:--
"Lo! on his _kalpag_[69] see A blood-red nodding plume; A mantle black surrounds his neck, His wild eye lowers with gloom."
[Footnote 69: The tall fur hat, generally plumed, which forms part of the Hungarian national costume.]
Some one was telling the singer not to sing while climbing.
And as the singer gradually mounted higher and higher, his figure also became visible from behind the rocky ledge.
"Presumptuous mortal, quake and fear When thou his awful name dost hear: Diavolo, Diavolo, Diavolo!"
Yet nobody quaked so much as Fra Diavolo himself, when he perceived a human shape stretched before him on the ground as he scaled the very summit of the rocky ledge.
And certainly I was not a very reassuring spectacle, as, with my sheepskin cap pressed closely to my head, and a large cudgel in my fist, I slowly rose from my knees.
I recognised him before he recognised me.
"Your servant, Bálványossi! Why, how did you manage to get here, where not even the bird that flies can come?"
"Ah, ha! my poet-friend! What a divine encounter here in Heaven above!" With that he hastened up to me and we embraced.
By this time his lady companion had also got the better of the rocky zig-zag which led up to the mountain ledge.
It was now the turn of my own heart to stop beating. That female shape was Bessy--the sea-eyed beauty!