Ludwig continued his correspondence with the learned Herr Mercatoris.  He always dictated his letters to Marie.  No one in the neighborhood had yet seen his own writing.  Therefore, it would have been impossible for him to ask the pastor anything relating to the baroness without Marie knowing it.  In one of his letters, however, he inquired how the mother of the lad he had once had in his care was conducting herself at the manor, and was informed that the woman had disappeared—­and without leaving any explanation for her conduct—­a few days after the eclipse of the moon.  The baroness had been greatly troubled by the woman’s going, but would not consent to having a search made for her, as she had taken nothing from the manor.

This incident made Count Vavel believe that the woman had secretly joined the band of robbers, and that there would be another attempt made sometime to break into the manor.

From that time the count slept more frequently in his observatory than he did in his bedchamber, where an entire arsenal of muskets and other firearms were always kept in readiness.

One evening, when he approached the door of his room, he was surprised to see a light through the keyhole; some one was in the room.

He entered hastily.  On the table was a lighted candle, and standing with his back toward the table was a strange man, clad in a costume unlike that worn by the dwellers in that neighborhood.

For an instant Count Vavel surveyed the stranger, who was standing between him and his weapons; then he demanded imperiously: 

“Who are you?  How came you here, and what do you want?”

“I am Satan Laczi,” coolly replied the man.

On hearing the name, Count Vavel sprang suddenly toward the robber, and seized him by the arms.  The fellow’s arms were like the legs of a vulture—­nothing but bone and sinew.  Count Vavel was an athletic man, strong and powerful; but had the room been filled with men as strong and powerful as he, and had they every one hurled themselves upon Satan Laczi, he would have had no difficulty in defending himself.  He had performed such a feat more than once.  This evening, however, he made no move to defend himself, but looked calmly at his assailant, and said:  “The Herr Count can see that I have no weapons; and yet, there are enough here, had I wanted to arm myself against an attack.  I am not here for an evil purpose.”

The count released his hold on the man’s arms, and looked at him in surprise.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“First, because I want to tell the Herr Count that it was not I who attempted to rob the baroness, nor were those thieves comrades of mine.  I know that the people around here say it was Satan Laczi; but it was n’t, and I came to tell you so.  I confess I have robbed churches; but the house which has given shelter and food to my poor little lad is more sacred to me than a church.  The people insist that I was guilty of such baseness because I am Satan Laczi; but the Herr Count, who has doubtless read a description of my person, can say whether or no it was I he saw at the manor.”