"I extremely regret my errand," said he pleasantly; "but duty is duty, and you must consider yourselves my prisoners. Feeling sure you would not care to make a scene, I have left my men in the street. You have simply to give your parole not to attempt an escape, and I shall not use force."

"Very kind of you!" exclaimed Rakoczy. "But isn't there some mistake?"

The officer took a paper from his pocket.

"Stephen and George Botskay and John Rakoczy," he said, and proceeded to read descriptions of our persons--accurate, indeed, but expressed in very flattering language.

"Come!" laughed "The Joyous;" "after that it will be uncivil to refuse our parole."

"And quite useless," I added in Hungarian. "If we escaped the officer, we could not leave the city."

"What do you say, Stephen?"

"Surrender is a poor way of beginning a fight."

"So it is!" laughed our companion; "but, as your brother remarked, we can't help ourselves. The question is, Shall we walk to prison as gentlemen, or be dragged there as criminals? So, by your leave, I'll take advantage, in all our names, of the offer we have received."

Our captor, who was certainly a very polished gentleman, did all he could to soften the blow.

Very few people noticed us as we walked towards the infantry barracks, where we were to be detained till further orders.

The officer did not know the reason of our arrest; but he a.s.sured us the victors were acting mercifully, and, unless our fault had been extremely grave, we need not fear.

At the barracks the soldiers offered us no indignities, which was in striking contrast with their treatment of some students brought in at the same time, whom they loaded with abuse and even struck.

They looked on these enthusiastic youths as the authors of all the mischief, and to a certain extent they were doubtless right.

Our prison was a small, square room with whitewashed walls, bare of furniture, but having benches round the sides.

"Well," said I in disgust, "what are we to do now?"

"Go to sleep, and dream we are in Pesth," replied Rakoczy, lying down on one of the benches.

Stephen paced backward and forward restlessly.

"I don't understand it at all," he observed. "Why have they arrested us? What can we be charged with?"

"Depends upon who our accusers are," answered Rakoczy. "It is plain that some kind friend has denounced us by name to the Austrian general."

At once I thought of Count Beula, but John shook his head.

"I think not. The count owes us a grudge, but he will pay his debt in Hungary, not here. My idea points to a different man altogether--a clever and unscrupulous fellow, who has no wish to see an Austro-Hungarian alliance."

He looked meaningly at Stephen, who nodded.

"Don't speak in riddles!" I exclaimed irritably. "Tell me in plain words what you think!"

He clapped me on the back, and after indulging in a little good-humoured chaff, explained that in his opinion we owed our arrest to Captain von Theyer.

"It's this way," he continued, laughing at my surprised looks. "There's no doubt that the captain cares a good deal for the pretty Theresa. It is equally certain that he has no friend in the baroness."

"Well?" I said.

"Don't be impatient. I'm coming to the point. Had this insurrection proved successful, Von Theyer would now be a very important person, and his influence worth securing, even by the powerful Baroness von Arnstein. Unluckily for him, it has fizzled out like a damp squib; so he has seized the first opportunity of making his peace with the victors."

"What has that to do with us?"

"Much. For one thing, he thus shows his zeal in the cause of the imperialists. In the second place, he would not be too pleased at finding how friendly we had become with the fraulein."

"Do you mean the fellow is jealous of us?" I said, blushing crimson.

"Of me," replied Rakoczy, curling his moustache and looking very grave.

I half suspected he was quizzing me, but could not feel quite certain, till I caught him winking at Stephen, when they both laughed.

"The jest won't prove quite so pleasant if we're locked up till the end of the war," I said; but of that Rakoczy had no fear.

However, we had spent several tedious days in our temporary prison, when one morning a party of soldiers came to escort us to the general, who was inspecting the barracks.

Prince Windischgratz, attended by several members of his staff, was in a room in the officers' quarters.

He was a n.o.ble-looking old man, dressed in full uniform, with his breast covered by medals and ribbons--mementoes of many hard-fought campaigns.

His face was mild and humane, but the firm chin and the latent fire in his eyes showed that he could be severe when necessary.

Addressing us in a mild voice, he asked us how it happened that we were found in Vienna with arms in our hands.

Rakoczy was about to reply when Stephen forestalled him, which I regretted, as my brother was not remarkable for the calmness of his language.

"Before answering that question," he said hotly, "we have a right to know by whose authority three peaceable travellers have been arrested like criminals, and deprived of their liberty."

Several of the officers uttered angry exclamations, but the prince smiled good-naturedly.

"There is some difference between peaceful travellers and armed rebels,"

said he; "and you are suspected of being the latter."

"It is false!" retorted my brother flatly.

"Appearances are against you. You were seen at the bridge of Tabor, and at least one of you is supposed to have joined in the disgraceful murder of the n.o.ble Count Latour."

"Hungarians are not a.s.sa.s.sins," said Stephen coldly.

"The friends of Count Lamberg speak differently," interrupted one of the officers with a bitter sneer.

"You are ungenerous, sir, to taunt the Hungarian nation with the crime of a handful of ragam.u.f.fins," I said.

"Yes, yes," exclaimed the prince; "but that is not the point. Can you deny the charges made against you?"

Stephen glanced round him indifferently; he would not deign to answer, and I followed his example.