"Well, yes. I think that may be turned to very good account, till Haynau has grown tired of his butcher's knife."

"Which will not be soon. We are, however, keeping Captain Botskay from his supper--an unpardonable offence."

Opening the door, he ordered an extra knife and fork. Then he invited me to sit, saying, "The table's rather crowded, captain; but we have all our courses laid at once. It isn't a banquet, but you'll find it better than black bread and bacon. Help yourself. I can recommend the salmon, because one of my fellows caught it this evening. I fancy the veal has done a breadth or two of ploughing in its time; but the chicken's tender."

The outlaw certainly proved a most attentive and courteous host, and enlivened the meal by relating some of the most humorous and inoffensive of his adventures.

During the war he had turned patriot, and had really done the enemy a great deal of mischief by cutting off convoys and intercepting mounted messengers.

After supper he went to give his orders for the night; and I, not caring to remain alone with Count Beula, borrowed a lantern, and strolled out to the shed which served as a stable.

There were nine or ten horses in the place, and I noticed that saddles and bridles were all hung so that they might readily be got at.

My own animal had received an ample allowance of food, and, after a night's rest, would, I reckoned, be in capital trim.

I might have stayed longer to get a better look at the robbers' horses, but the big dog sniffed so longingly at my legs that I thought it best to remove temptation from his path.

Batori Gabor returned at the same time, and one of the band brought in some wine of a quality rarely found outside a n.o.bleman's house.

"Been to look at your horse, captain?" he asked. "Sensible that, seeing you may have to trust your life to its speed.--Well, count, I think we may reckon on a quiet night. Andras has returned, and says the Austrians are sound asleep.

"I should feel easier if we were twenty miles farther on," answered the count.

"So should I, for that matter; but the horses were bound to have a long rest. Meanwhile we may as well make ourselves comfortable.--Captain Botskay, a gla.s.s of wine? By the way, you have not yet told us how you come to be in this part of the country. I should fancy this a very unhealthy spot for persons of your habits of life," and he laughed at his little joke quite pleasantly.

"The tale will not take long in telling," I said. "The general sent me to Nagy Sandor at Debreczin, where I had a nasty knock which laid me up for several days. Then I followed the army, arriving at Vilagos just in time to see the surrender."

"But after that?"

"I started for Nagy Kikinda, where they say the 9th Honveds have been taken."

"Looking for Rakoczy?" asked the count, and I nodded.

"You wouldn't guess what a hero our friend is," remarked the count to Batori Gabor. "He is actually risking his life on the chance of finding out what has become of John Rakoczy, colonel of the 9th Honveds."

"Then you're a very gallant fellow, Captain Botskay," said the outlaw; "though I must stop you from playing such a mad prank. Do you know that every road in your path is barred by Austrian troops? You cannot possibly get past them; and if you could, the journey would be useless."

"Still, I intend trying."

Batori Gabor shrugged his shoulders. The count laughed in the sneering manner which always made me anxious to pitch him out of the window.

"You must be fonder of a hempen rope than I," he said; "but perhaps your name isn't on the proscribed list?"

"I don't know."

"Well, mine is."

"And mine," laughed Gabor. "It's been there for years. It doesn't hurt me in the least. I look on it as an honour."

"Every man to his taste," said the count. "I have no fancy to die in a hempen collar. I am no coward, but the thought of being hanged like a dog by these Austrian butchers puts me in a bath of perspiration."

"You came pretty near it yesterday."

The count shuddered.

"Don't," said he; "it gives me an ague fit to think of it."

I pointed out that he was probably alarming himself without reason, as the Austrians were not likely to do more than put him in prison for a few months.

Batori shook his head.

"You're wrong there, captain," cried he. "The count and I row in the same boat, and capture means death. We are to be strung up to the nearest tree or beam capable of bearing our weight by those who catch us. The very notion of it puts the count into a flutter."

Now I had once thought Count Beula a coward, and had been obliged to own my mistake; yet at this talk of Austrian vengeance his face became white, and he trembled like a leaf. He tried to laugh it off, saying that Gorgei was in the right of it, surrendering to the Russians.

"He would have done a sharper thing by slipping into Turkey with Kossuth and his friends," I made answer.

"There you are," exclaimed our bandit friend. "That's what lost the war before it began. Two sets of leaders, and two objects to fight for; why, it's worse than having two captains over one band. However, it's done now, and not worth quarrelling about. We have to save our heads--a far more important matter."

"I am going to look for Colonel Rakoczy in the morning."

"Are you? Well, excuse the plain speech, captain--you're a fool. The exercise of my profession has made me acquainted with this part of the country, and even I could not venture a mile southward without being captured. The Austrians are stopping every pa.s.s and blocking every hole; they think Kossuth is still in the district. Why, but for me, our friend here would at this very moment be swinging in the wind, and, at the best, we half foundered our horses in getting him away. However, they are recovering, and to-morrow night will see us safe. You'd better join us, and wait your chance."

"You may spare your breath," sneered Count Beula. "He'll go his own way in the end. He comes of an obstinate race."

"Well, well, we'll give him the chance to ride with us," replied Batori.

"If he prefers being killed, that's his affair. Now I'm going to sleep for an hour, and advise you to do the same."

He lay down in a corner of the room, pulled his cloak round him, and in less than two minutes was sleeping soundly.

"Behold!" exclaimed the count, laughing in his detestable manner, "the beauty of possessing an easy conscience."

I made no reply, being engaged in wrapping myself up; and apparently no reply was expected.

The count was evidently in a state of great anxiety, and several times during our brief rest wakened me by pa.s.sing into the next room, as if he went to see that all was right.

I could not understand the man. He was so different from the Count Beula who had displayed such gallantry at the storming of Buda. In the breach no danger had unnerved him; here he blenched at the hint of it, and I attributed the difference to his dread of being hanged.

However, in spite of his restlessness, I managed at last to fall into a sound sleep, and was dreaming that Rakoczy and I were safe at Gyula, when some one pulled me roughly to my feet.

The candles had burned out, but the dawn was stealing through the one little window, and by its light I recognized Batori Gabor. His face was flushed and excited; he had put on his cap and cuira.s.s, had buckled on his sword, and was equally ready to fight or fly.

"Quick!" cried he, not in panic, but in such tones as you might expect from a man accustomed to carry his life in his hands. "To the stables!

The Austrians are out!"

I looked for the count. He had already disappeared.

Picking up my mantle, I ran into the kitchen. It was empty, save for the frightened innkeeper and his wife, who stood half-dressed, wringing their hands and shivering.