They had also their long staves in their hands. I ran to the door, intending to descend and try and join them through the main hall, because I thought that the doors there might have been opened for them. But again I had a shock, my door was fastened on the outside. Then I ran to the window and shouted to them. They looked up at me stupidly and pointed, but just then the "head man" of the Szgany came out. He saw them pointing to my window, said something, and they laughed.

After that they would not even look at me. When I called to them or pleaded for their help, they resolutely turned away. The waggons contained large, square boxes, with handles made of thick rope. These were evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovaks handled them, and by the hollow sound they made when they were moved.

When they were all unloaded and packed in a large heap in one corner of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the Szgany. Then each man lazily went to his horse's head. Shortly afterwards, I heard the cracking of their whips die away in the distance.