This inexplicable act-who indeed could be its perpetrator except the only one who had any interest in committing it?Would this first attack be followed by others even more serious?Might it not be, as we though, only the beginning of the reprisals against the Roderich family?

Early next day……when Captain Haralan informed his father of the incident, it may well be imagined how very angry he was.

‘That's the rascal who did it, 'he exclaimed, ‘how he did it I don't know.He won't stop there, no doubt, but I'll find some way of keeping him from doing it again!’

‘Keep cool, my dear Haralan, 'I said, ‘and don't do anything imprudent which might complicate the situation.'

‘My dear Vidal, if father had warned me before that man had gone out of our house, or if he'd let me act since then, we should be well rid of him.'

‘I still think, my dear Haralan, that it would be better for you not to appear in the matter.'

‘And if he keeps on?'

‘Then it will be time to demand the intervention of the police.Think of your mother, your sister.'

‘Won't they learn what has happened?'

‘We won't tell them, any more than we'll tell Marc.After the wedding we'll see what's best to be done.'

‘After……?'replied Captain Haralan, ‘but suppose it's too late?'

That day, whatever might be the secret anxiety of Dr.Roderich, his wife and his daughter thought of nothing but the evening party at which the marriage contract was to be signed that very night.The Doctor had sent out a fairly large number of invitations, and here, as though on neutral ground, the Magyar aristocracy would mingle with representatives of the army, the magistracy, and the public officials.The rooms would be large enough to hold the hundred and fifty guests, and at the end of the evening supper would be served in the gallery.

Nobody will be surprised to know that Myra Roderich was devoting much thought to the question of her toilette, nor that Marc was giving her the benefit of his artistic taste.

In the afternoon the preparations were completed and the ladies were resting.Then as I was standing at one of the windows I was extremely annoyed to notice Wilhelm Storitz.Was it chance that had brought him there?Most certainly not.He was walking beside the river, slowly and with his head lowered.But when he got opposite the house he straightened up and what a glance flashed from his eyes!He went backwards and forwards several times, and Madame Roderich happened to notice him.She gestured to the Doctor, who contented himself with reassuring her without saying anything of that strange person's recent visit.

I should add that when Marc and I went out to go back to our hotel that man met us in one of the squares.As soon as he caught sight of my brother he stopped suddenly and seemed to hesitate as though he meant to accost us.But he stayed motionless, his face pale and his arms as stiff as those of a cataleptic……was he going to fall where he stood?His eyes, his gleaming eyes—what a glance they threw at Marc, who pretended not to pay any attention to him.

‘You notice that fellow?'my brother asked when we had left him a few paces behind.

‘Yes, Marc.'

‘He's that Wilhelm Storitz whom I spoke to you about.'

‘I know.'

‘So you know him?'

‘Captain Haralan pointed him out to me.'

‘I thought he'd left Ragz, 'said Marc.

‘It seems that he hasn't, or at any rate that he's come back.'

‘It doesn't matter, after all!'

‘No, it doesn't matter, 'I replied, but to my mind the absence of Wilhelm Storitz would have been more reassuring.

About nine in the evening the first coaches pulled up before Dr.Roderich's house and the rooms began to fill, the ladies'costumes shining out splendidly in the midst of the uniforms and the ceremonial dress.Guests went to and fro through the rooms and the gallery, admiring the wedding-presents set out in the Doctor's study.On one of the tables in the great drawing-room was placed the Marriage Contract which would be signed during the evening;on another was a magnificent bouquet of roses and orange blossom, and, in accordance with Magyar custom, beside it, on a velvet cushion, rested the nuptial crown which Myra would wear when she went to the Cathedral on her wedding day.

The evening would be divided into two parts, a concert and a ball, separated by the solemn signing of the contract.The music had been entrusted to a remarkable orchestra of Tziganes, a dozen performers under the direction of their leader.

The Magyars are great music lovers and they greatly enjoyed that concert, but I doubt whether Marc appreciated it:he was looking at Myra.After the applause had ended the musicians rose, and Dr.Roderich and Captain Haralan thanked them in the most flattering terms.

And then followed what I might call an interval.The guests left their seats and gathered into groups, a few of them dispersing into the well-lit garden, while refreshing drinks were passed round.

So far, nothing had troubled that festival, and there seemed no reason why it should not end as happily as it began.Really, if I had been at all afraid I should now feel completely reassured.So I did not spare my congratulations to Madame Roderich.

By what strange association of ideas did these commonplace phrases bring back to my mind the memory of Wilhelm Storitz?However, he soon passed out of my mind.

The orchestra was now ready to strike up at a sign from Captain Haralan.But from the side of the gallery where its door opened on the garden there could be heard a voice.It was still distant, but it was strikingly loud and coarse, and it was singing a strange song, with a bizarre rhythm and a complete lack of tonality, its musical phrases having no melodic relation.

The couples who were ready for the first waltz had stopped……They were listening—was this some sort of surprise which was intended to form part of the evening?'

Captain Haralan walked up to me.

‘What is it?'I asked.

‘I don't know, 'he replied, in tones which denoted a certain anxiety.

‘Where's that song coming from!The street?'

‘No……I don't think So.'

Indeed, he whose voice was reaching us must be in the garden and making for the gallery.Perhaps, indeed, he was on the point of coming in.

Captain Haralan grasped my arm and led me to the door which opened on to the garden.As he went out on the steps I followed him, and our gaze could survey the whole garden, which was illuminated from end to end……

We could not see anyone.

Dr.and Madame Roderich joined us, and the doctor said a few words to which his son replied only by a shake of the head.

Yet the voice was still making itself heard, louder and more imperious, and always coming nearer……

Marc, with Myra on his arm, came to join us in the gallery, while Madame Roderich went back among the other ladies, who were anxiously asking questions but to whom she seemed unable to reply.

‘I'm going to find out!'and Captain Haralan went down the steps.Dr.Roderich followed him, together with a few servants and myself.

Suddenly, when the singer seemed to be only a few steps from the gallery at most, the voice fell silent.

We went down into the garden and examined it carefully.The lights left no corner in shadow, and we could carry out a minute search, and yet we could not find anyone……

Could that voice possibly be that of a belated wayfarer on the Boulevard Tékéli?This seemed quite unlikely, and we could even see that the boulevard was completely deserted.

One solitary light alone was shining five hundred yards away to the left, a light scarcely visible.It came from one of the windows in the belvedere of the home of Wilhelm Storitz.

When we went back into the gallery the only answer we could give to the questions of the guests was to sign for the waltz to start.

This Captain Haralan did, and the couples at once formed up again.

‘Well, 'Myra asked me laughingly, ‘haven't you chosen your partner?'

‘My partner, that will be you, Mademoi-selle, but only for the second waltz.'

‘Then my dear Henri, 'said Marc, ‘we won't keep you waiting!'

The orchestra had just finished the introduction.Then.without anyone's being able to see the singer, the voice broke out again, and this time in the middle of the drawing-room.

To the alarm of the guests was mingled a real feeling of indignation.The voice was bawling out Frederick Margrade's Hymn of Hate, that German hymn which owes an abominable fame to its violence.This was a direct and a deliberate insult to Magyar patriotism!

And yet he whose voice was roaring out in the middle of the drawing-room……nobody could see him……He must be there and yet nobody could catch a glimpse of him……

The dancers were scattered about in the drawing-room and the gallery and a kind of panic was spreading among them, especially among the ladies.

Captain Haralan strode across the drawing-room, his eyes ablaze, his hands held out as if to seize this person whom he could not see.

At that moment, with the last strains of the Hymn of Hate the voice again fell silent.

And then I saw……yes, a hundred persons saw what I saw, and like myself they refused to believe it.

Here was the bouquet lying on the table, suddenly torn to pieces and scattered and its flowers apparently being trodden under foot……Here were the fragments of the wedding contract scattering about the floor……

This time it was fear which descended upon us.Everybody wished to escape from the scene of such strange happenings.I was asking myself if I were completely sane and if I could believe in these mysteries.

Captain Haralan had just joined me.Pale with anger, he exclaimed, ‘It's Wilhelm Storitz!'

Wilhelm Storitz……Was he mad……

If he were not, I certainly soon should be.I was wide awake, I was not dreaming, and yet I saw, yes I saw with my own eyes, at that very moment, the nuptial crown rising from the cushion on which it had been placed.Without our being able to see the hand which held it, it went across the drawing-room and through the gallery and vanished into the garden!

‘That's too much……'exclaimed Captain Haralan.Dashing out of the drawing-room, he shot across the hall like a thunderbolt and rushed down the Boulevard Tékéli.

I hurried along behind him.

One after the other we ran to the house of Wilhelm Storitz.One of the windows of the belvedere was still shining feebly into the darkness.The Captain seized the handle of the gate and shook it.Without quite realising what I was doing, I added my efforts to his.But the gate was solid and we could scarcely move it.

For some minutes we exhausted our selves in vain.Our growing rage almost robbed us of our senses……

Suddenly the gate turned heavily upon its hinges……

Captain Haralan had plainly made a mistake in accusing Wilhelm Storitz……Wilhelm Storitz had not left his house, because it was he himself who opened the gate to us, because he was there in person before us.