Part 35 (1/2)

”They have done even more, my lord. They have forced their way into your wife's sleeping-room, used the portrait of the gracious lady as a target and disfigured it horribly.”

”What! the portrait of my wife!” cried Banfy, laying his hand on his sword. ”The portrait of my wife did you say?” he repeated, with flas.h.i.+ng eyes. ”Ah,” he cried, tearing his sword from its sheath and turning his face upward with an expression never before seen on it. He was like an exasperated tiger in chains, with bloodshot eyes, thick swollen veins in his brow and bloodthirsty lips.

”May G.o.d have mercy on them!” he cried out in a fearful voice, and throwing himself on his horse rode out to his troops.

”My friends,” he cried, before he reached the ranks, ”a swarm of hornets has fallen on my castle and plundered it. They have destroyed everything in my rooms, cleared my stables, robbed my family treasures; but I care not for that, let them gorge their fill, let them have what they never knew before, let them steal me even, I should still be master and even after this robbery, with one hand could pay off all these beggarly Szekler princes. But they have abused the portrait of my wife--of my wife! And I will have my revenge for it--a frightful revenge! Follow me. The trees in the garden at Bonczida have not borne any fruit for some time now but they shall bear some.”

The general battle-cry of the troops showed that the army was ready to follow Banfy. The leaders drew up their men in ranks and the trumpet had sounded the second time when a company of twelve hors.e.m.e.n came in sight of Banfy's army. In the central figure they recognized the herald of the Prince, a broad-shouldered man of giant size who rode up to Banfy and the officers around him, and said:

”Halt!”

”We are halting. If you have eyes you can see,” said Michael Angyal.

”In the name of his Excellency the Prince I summon you, Dionysius Banfy, to appear in three days before the court in Karlsburg to defend yourself in legal form against the indictment found against you. Until that time your wife remains in custody, as hostage for your deeds.”

”We will come,” replied Michael Angyal. ”You can see for yourself that we were on the point of starting out only we did not know until now which way to go.”

”Still, my lord captain!” said Banfy. ”One should not use mockery with a messenger from the Prince.” The messenger turned then to the officers:

”This summons does not concern you. For you I have another message to give in the name of the Prince.”

”You may keep it to yourself or I will say something to you that will make your ears tingle,” sneered the captain, aiming his pistol at the herald.

”Down with your pistol!” Banfy called out to him. ”Let him give the Prince's message. Give him opportunity to speak freely.”

The herald straightened himself in his saddle and surveying the soldiers said in a loud voice:

”The Prince forbids you to give further obedience to Banfy; any man that takes up weapons for him is a traitor to his country.”

”That's what you are yourself,” growled Michael Angyal.

The next moment the disorganized troops had turned with rage and threats toward the herald: a hundred swords flashed at the same time above his head.

”Stop!” said Banfy, in a thundering voice and at the same time standing before the herald. ”The life of this man is sacred and inviolable. Keep your places. Let no man put his hand to his sword. I order you--I, your leader.”

”Three cheers!” shouted the brigades, and at the word of command formed in ranks and stood like a wall.

”You will not bear me ill-will,” said Banfy to the herald who had turned pale, ”that these men have this once more obeyed me. Go back to your Prince and tell him that I will appear before him within three days.”

”We will be there too,” shouted the captain. The herald and his retinue moved away. Banfy dropped his head in deep thought. The trumpet sounded, for the banners were unfurled, but Banfy still stared into s.p.a.ce, speechless, heavy-hearted and gloomy.

”Draw your sword, my lord,” Angyal said to him. ”Put yourself at our head and let us start, first for Bonczida, and then for Karlsburg.”

”What is that you say?” said Banfy. ”What do you mean?”

”Why, that since the law has expressed itself by the sword, the sword shall be our defence.”

”Such a case at law would be called civil war.”

”We did not start it: neither shall we add fuel to the flame.”