8 JUNE

THIS MORNING I WAS ROUSED FROM SLEEP AROUND nine o’clock²⁵² by some raucous noise outside. I leapt to my feet and hurried into the dining room. Looking out of the window, I saw what was happening: four big transport wagons—like the ones used by the farmers in this region—had arrived in the courtyard.²⁵³ They were loaded with large boxes made from whole wooden planks. The Tatars unloaded them from the wagons and stacked them together in the courtyard. The crates appeared to be empty.

There were six strong-looking horses for each carriage, and the drivers were all dressed in the colorful national Slovak attire. They wore wide-brimmed felt hats, high shoes and sheepskin coats, and they held long staves in their hands.

The Slovaks stood a bit aside from the Tatars, and I could see from their faces that they greatly marvelled at the castle and its high towers.

I was glad for their arrival and thought Providence had sent them to me as one small favor. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could, convinced that the gate to the courtyard would be open, but it was locked as solidly as usual. I rushed back up to the window and saw that the Slovaks were still waiting in the courtyard; I signalled them to come closer, trying to convey that I wanted to speak to them. I wanted to give them a letter, which I would go write in the library without delay. At first they looked at me, took counsel, and then asked the Tatars something. The same man who had taken my other letters walked up to them and told them something, at which they all started to laugh. After that I couldn’t persuade them to speak to me. No matter how I called or beckoned them, they wouldn’t even listen, but merely turned away.

After the wagons had been emptied, I saw the very same man—who appeared to be the chief of the Tatars—give the Slovak farmers money, whereupon they took their horses and left. When I realized that it was a lost cause, I gave up any further attempts to make contact.