In less than half an hour, however, the police officer who had been dispatched for that purpose, returned and said that she had left her apartments, and most likely the Capital also, the previous evening.  The unfortunate banker was almost in despair.  Not only had he been robbed of a hundred and fifty thousand florins, but at the same time he had lost the beautiful woman, whom he loved with all the passion of which he was capable.  He could not grasp the idea that a woman whom he had surrounded with Asiatic luxury, whose strangest whims he had gratified, and whose tyranny he had borne so patiently, could have deceived him so shamefully, and now he had a quarrel with his wife, and an end of all domestic peace, into the bargain.

The only thing the police could do was to raise the hue and cry after the lady, who had denounced herself by her flight, but it was all of no use.  In vain did the banker, in whose heart hatred and thirst for revenge had taken the place of love, implore the Director of Police to employ every means to bring the beautiful criminal to justice, and in vain did he undertake to be responsible for all the costs of her prosecution, no matter how heavy they might be.  Special police officers were told off to try and discover her, but Caecelia K——­ was so rude as not to allow herself to be caught.

Three years had passed, and the unpleasant story appeared to have been forgotten.  The banker had obtained his wife’s pardon and—­what he cared about a good deal more—­he had found another charming mistress, and the police did not appear to trouble themselves about the beautiful Hungarian any more.

We must now change the scene to London.  A wealthy lady who created much sensation in society, and who made many conquests both by her beauty and her free behavior, was in want of a groom.  Among the many applicants for the situation, there was a young man, whose good looks and manners gave people the impression that he must have been very well educated.  This was a recommendation in the eyes of the lady’s maid, and she took him immediately to her mistress’s boudoir.  When he entered, he saw a beautiful, voluptuous looking woman, at most, twenty-five years of age, with large, bright eyes and blue-black hair, which seemed to increase the brilliancy of her fair complexion, lying on a sofa.  She looked at the young man, who also had thick black hair, and who turned his glowing black eyes to the ground, beneath her searching gaze, with evident satisfaction, and she seemed particularly taken with his slender, athletic build, and then she said half lazily and half proudly: 

“What is your name?”

“Lajos Mariassi.”

“A Hungarian?”

And there was a strange look in her eyes.

“Yes.”

“How did you come here?”

“I am one of the many emigrants who have forfeited their country and their life; and I, who come of a good family, and who was an officer of the Honveds, must now ... go into service, and thank God if I find a mistress who is at the same time beautiful and an aristocrat, as you are.”