Consequently it was to be feared that a general flight from Torda to Kolozsvar would soon follow; and, when once the stream of fugitives began, it would be impossible to make one's way in an opposite direction.

Therefore our travellers had not a moment to lose.
Blanka was by this time well used to travelling by night, and she entered cheerfully and without question into the proposed plan.

A longing to reach "home," and perhaps a vague suspicion of the perils that threatened her party, made her the more willing to push forward.
When danger braces to action, a high-bred woman's power of endurance is almost without limit.
Aaron drove, Manasseh sat beside him, and thus the entire rear seat was left to Blanka, who was so swathed and muffled in wraps and furs that she was well-nigh hidden from view.

Despite all the plausible explanations, she came very near guessing the well-meant deceit that was practised upon her.
"Why, your horses are saddled!" she exclaimed to Aaron.
"Yes, to be sure," calmly replied the mountaineer.

"That's the custom in Transylvania; we put saddles on our carriage-horses just as in Styria they buckle a block of wood over the horse's neck." Blanka appeared satisfied with this explanation of Transylvanian usage.
Aaron gave his good Szekler steeds a free rein.