'Tis he, the loving husband of the one, the beloved ideal of the other.
Flora rushed towards him with a cry of joy.

"Rudolf! Rudolf!" she cried.
Fanny, in dumb despair, turned her horse's head, and began to gallop back again.
"Good God!" cried Rudolf, whose face still burned with the kisses of his loving wife, "that lady's horse has run away with her!" "That is Madame Karpathy!" cried Flora in alarm; and she whipped up her horse in the hope of overtaking her friend.
The lady was galloping helter-skelter across the plain.

Every one fancied that her stallion had run away with her.

Flora, old Palko, Mike Kis, and Count Gregory vainly sped after her; they could not get near her: only Rudolf was beginning to catch her up.
And now the stallion had reached the narrow dyke, and was galloping along it; on the other side of it, six fathoms in depth, were the waters of the Berettyo.

A single stumble, and all would be over.