"They are as thick together as a swarm of locusts, sir; and as for the prisoners, they are like the chaff of a threshing floor. There are gentlefolk there too. My old master is one of them--blast him with hot thunderbolts!"

"And who is your master?"

"My faithful governor--Libor!" exclaimed Paul Hedervary, stepping forward and answering for the groom in a tone of great displeasure.

"And have they treated the rest as they have treated you?" asked the Duke, pointing to the lad's bleeding ears.

"The Tartar women cut off the ears and noses of every pretty woman and girl, and the best looking of all they kill! They have killed most of the gentlemen too, and thrown them into the Hernad."

"And your master?" asked Paul quickly.

"My master? No master of mine! he's better fit to be master to the devil," said the prisoner, quite forgetting the King in his rage.

"What--whom are you talking about?" asked Paul, indignantly.

"I'm talking about Mr. Governor Libor, and I say that he has turned Tartar!"

"Turned Tartar!" exclaimed several in amazement.

"It's fact," said the lad. "He has cast off his 'menti' and 'suba,' and doffed his great plume, and now he is going about like a reverend friar, with a cowl large enough to hold myself."

"Turned priest then, has he?" asked Master Peter.

"Priest to the devil, if he has any of that sort down below," said Matyko. "Priest, not a bit of it! He has turned Knez! that's what he has done! The Tartars wear all sorts of church vestments, even the Khans do, blight them!"

"Knez! what sort of creature is that, Matyko?" asked Ugrin.

"A sort of governor, something like an 'Ispan' (_i.e._, Count, or head-man of a county)--I don't know, but he has some sort of office, and our poor gentlemen prisoners must doff their hats to the wretch!"

"Well, nephew!" said Master Peter, with a laugh, for this was water to his own mill, "so you have chosen a pretty sort of fellow indeed to entrust your castle to!"

The King meantime had turned away to speak to the Knight Commander of the Templars, and Paul was able to go on questioning Matyko. He was beside himself with astonishment.

"How long has he been in such favour with the Tartars?" he asked.

"Ah, sir! who can say?" answered the lad, hotly. "He was Knez before they took me! I found him among them, and hardly knew him. It was he who had my ears cut off, the brute! and only just saved my nose!"

"Well, that is something anyhow," said Master Peter.

"And then," continued Matyko, "I heard that Mr. Governor had been having dealings with the Tartars, like those rascally Kunok, and what's more, if it is true--and true it must be, for Tartars don't give anything for nothing--they say he has shown them the way to two or three castles, where they have got a lot of plunder!"

"Shown them! the scoundrel!" exclaimed Peter and Hedervary together.

"It's so," said Matyko emphatically. "He did ought to have his own long ears and snout cut off, he ought!"

Young Hedervary did not perhaps believe all that had been said about his favourite, but still his anger waxed hot within him.

He had to leave Matyko now, however, and follow the King, who rode through the whole camp, and finally gave orders to the Duke to antic.i.p.ate the Tartars by advancing at once to the Sajo with a considerable force.

"Ugrin!" cried the Duke, well pleased with the command, "you will come with me! Quick! Mount your men, and we will be on the way to the Sajo in half an hour and stop the Tartars from crossing."

By the time the Duke and Ugrin reached the river, they found that a number of Mongols had already got across. These, after some hard fighting they successfully beat back, and that with considerable loss; and as the survivors disappeared into the woods on the opposite side of the river, the Duke and Ugrin led their victorious troops back to the camp, where they were received with acclamations and triumph. They had lost hardly any of their men and were highly elated by their victory.

The night following this success was one of the quietest in the camp.

The rapid and easy victory they had won had redoubled everyone's hopes that, upon the advance of the entire army the Mongols would perish utterly and completely, as if they had never been.

Most of the men in camp lay down, with the exception of the King, the sentries, and some of the generals.

The King allowed himself but a very short rest; for, from his many conversations with the unfortunate King Kuthen, he was well aware of the overwhelming numbers and strength of the Mongols, and he was determined that the enemy should never find him anything but prepared and on the alert.

Kalman and Bishop Ugrin also approved these prudent measures; but the army as a whole was so worn out by long watches and merry-making that rest it must have.

It was a dark night, and the wind blew the tents about; the camp fires had been purposely extinguished, though it was spring-time and chilly.

Twice in the course of the night the King left his tent, made the round of the camp, and satisfied himself as to the strength of the wooden bulwarks. The Duke, the Commander of the Templars, Hedervary the Palatine, and his son Paul, as well as Ugrin, all lay in the King's tent, on carpets, dozing, but not sleeping, while the King merely put off his armour, and stretched himself on the camp bedstead for an hour or two.

All was still save for the wind, and in the intervals between the gusts nothing was to be heard but some terrific snores, and the stamping of the horses.

Now and again those who were fully awake thought they heard shouts of merriment, showing that there were still some not too tired to be amusing themselves; then the wind roared again, and all other sounds were lost.

CHAPTER XI.

"NEXT TIME WE MEET!"

Since her father's departure, Dora had held the reins of government, and held them, too, with a firmer hand than Master Peter had done.

In a couple of weeks she had made the sleepy governor, if not active, at least less dilatory; the men-at-arms had been well drilled by himself and Talabor, and the serving men and women had been bewitched into some degree of orderliness.

News of her father she neither had nor expected. Probably she would hear nothing until he came or sent for her. She knew nothing positively as to what was taking place outside, though the servants from time to time picked up fragments of news in the villages, so contradictory as to convey little real information. But the air, even in this out-of-the-way region, was full of rumour and presentiment, which affected different characters in different ways, but had the general result of making all more careful than usual.

Without being in the least alarmed, Talabor was one who showed himself particularly circ.u.mspect at this time; and, as if he had some sort of instinct that trouble might be at hand, he gradually got into the way of helping the seneschal in all that he had to do. And his a.s.sistance, though uncalled for, was most welcome to the poor man, who felt a good deal burthened, now that he had to bestir himself to greater speed than was his wont.

Some of the servants liked Talabor for his unpresuming ways, resolution, and courage, while the rest sought to curry favour with him because the young clerk was evidently in the master's good graces, and they believed him to be a power in consequence.

By degrees, and without even noticing it, Talabor quite took the governor's place. The servants, being accustomed to receive their orders from him, and to go to him in all difficulties, finding moreover that Talabor was always ready with an answer and never at a loss what to do, while the old seneschal forgot more than he remembered, soon almost overlooked the latter and put him on one side.

Even Dora, who was perhaps more distant with Talabor now than she had ever been before, came at last to giving her orders to him, instead of to the governor. And the governor, finding himself thus in the shade, would now and then suddenly awake and become jealous for the preservation of his authority, and at such times would seize the reins with ludicrous haste, while Talabor would as quickly take up again the part of a subordinate.

Such was the state of affairs when the governor and Talabor were sitting together one evening in a tolerably large room occupied by the former.

On the table before them were a good sized pewter pot and drinking cups to match. The two had been talking for some time. The governor was looking as if he had been annoyed about something, and Talabor could not be said to look cheerful either, in fact, he had rarely been seen to smile since Master Peter's departure. He missed him greatly, for latterly, as long as he was at home, Peter had often had the young man with him in the evenings, when the candles were lighted, or when a blazing fire supplied the place of tallow and wax, these latter being still considered luxuries.