Vasile, the boyar's agent, came up to the stone seat, scratching his head, and whispered with a grin:
"What do you say to this, master? Just take a look at him. He could bring you the devil himself!"
Boyar Nicola could not take his eyes off Cozma. The highwayman stopped and said:
"God be with you!"
"I thank you," replied Vasile. "God grant it!"
The boyar remained persistently silent.
"H'm!" murmured Vasile. "You have come to see us, friend Cozma?"
"I have come," responded Racoare.
"On our business?"
"Yes."
Cozma spoke slowly, frowning; wherever he might be no smile ever lit up his face.
"Ah, yes, you have come," said the boyar, as if awaking from sleep. "Vasile, go and tell them to prepare coffee, but bring wine at once."
"Let them make coffee for one," said Cozma, "I never drink."
Vasile went off grinning, after a side-glance at his master.
"Ah, you never drink!" said the boyar with an effort. "So, so, you have come on our business--how much? Ah, I am giving fifty ducats."
"Good!" said Racoare quietly.
Vasile returned, smiling knowingly. The boyar was silent.
"Eh," said Vasile, scratching his head, "how are you getting on?"
"Good Vasile, go and fetch the purse from under my pillow."
"No, there is no need to give me a purse," said the highwayman, "I have no need of money."
"What?" murmured the boyar. "Ah, yes! You do not need? Why?"
"The thing is to put the Sultana of Frasini into your arms--I hand you over the lady, and you hand me the money."
"Let's be brief!" cried Vasile, passing his hand through his hair. "One party gives the lady, the other the money. What did I tell you? Cozma would fetch you the devil from hell. From henceforth the lady is yours."
Racoare turned round, strode to the bottom of the garden, fastened his horse to a tree, drew a cloak of serge from his saddle, spread it out and wrapped himself in it.
"Well! Well!" groaned Boyar Nicola, breathing heavily. "What a terrible man! But I feel as though he had taken a load off my mind."
Vasile smiled but said nothing. Later, when he was by himself, he began to laugh and whisper: "Ha, ha! He who bears a charmed life is a lucky man!"
The boyar started up as from sleep and looked fearfully at Vasile; then he shook his head and relapsed into thought.
"Ah, yes!" he murmured, without understanding what he was talking about.
When night had fallen Cozma Racoare tightened his horse's girths and mounted. Then he said:
"Boyar, wait for me in the glade at Vulturesht."
The gates were opened, the horse snorted and rushed forth like a dragon.
The full moon shone through the veil of an autumnal mist, weaving webs of light, lighting up the silent hills and the dark woods. The rapid flight of the bay broke the deep silence. Racoare rode silently under the overhanging woods with their sparse foliage; he seemed like a phantom in the blue light.
Then he reached Frasini. Every one was asleep, the doors were shut. Cozma knocked at the door: Rat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat!
"Who is there?" cried a voice from within.
"Open!" said Racoare.
"Who are you?"
"Open!" shouted Cozma.
From within was heard a whispered:
"Open!" "Do not open!" "Open, it is Cozma!"
A light shone through a niche in the wall above the door, and lighted up Cozma's face. Then a rustling sound became audible, the light was extinguished, and the bar across the door rattled.
Cozma entered the empty courtyard, dismounted by the steps, and pushed open the door.
"The door is open," he murmured, "the lady is not nervous."
In the dark corridor his footsteps and his spurs echoed as in a church. A noise was heard in one of the rooms, and a bright light shone into the passage. The Sultana appeared in the doorway, dressed in white with her hair unplaited, with frowning brows and the scimitar in her right hand.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she cried.
"I have come to fetch you," said Racoare shortly, "and take you to Boyar Nicola."
"Ah, you are not burglars?" said the lady, and raised her scimitar. "See here, you will meet the same fate as your Nicola!"
Racoare took a step forward, calmly seized the scimitar, squeezed the lady's fist, and the steel blade flew into a corner. The lady sprang quickly back, calling:
"Gavril! Niculai! Toader! Help!"
Voices were heard, and the servants crowded into the passage, and stood by the door. Racoare approached the lady, and tried to seize her. She avoided him, and caught up a knife from the table.