I believe the president did mention vaguely some other charges, but as I could not be shot or hung twice over, these did not much matter.

When he had finished his speech I bowed courteously, saluted the officers in military fashion, and followed the leader of the escort from the room.

Once again I was placed in the midst of the soldiers, and marched back to my cell, where they left me without a word. I sat down on the wooden bench which was my sole article of furniture, and tried to think over my position.

It seemed gloomy and hopeless enough, and turn which way I would, the only outlook was towards the scaffold.

As far as I could understand, the Austrians claimed the right to hang me on either of two grounds--the refusal to surrender with Gorgei at Vilagos, and the fact that I was caught in the company of a notorious band of robbers.

The other points, such as my acquaintance with Count Beula and the slaying of the hussar, were mere garnishings, added by the wily Von Theyer to prejudice my judges, and prevent them tempering justice by mercy.

In this there could be no doubt he succeeded perfectly, and I felt certain that whatever I might put forward in my defence would prove of no avail.

Indeed it was likely enough my sentence had already been p.r.o.nounced, and that at any moment I might be led out to execution. Every sound which reached my ears startled me, and a dozen times I stood up trying to calm the beatings of my heart.

But the day pa.s.sed, and at night the jailer brought my black bread and water, and went away again as usual without saying a word. I ate and drank feverishly, and then lay down on the narrow bench wondering what would happen before the next setting of the sun. Very slowly and wearily the dark hours crawled along, until, utterly worn out, I fell asleep, to be awakened, it seemed almost immediately, by the rattling of keys and the creaking of the iron door. In an instant I sprang to my feet, and waited with taut-strung nerves for the final ordeal.

My visitor was the jailer, and as he placed my breakfast on the ground, I burst into a peal of hysterical laughter.

CHAPTER XXVI.

_LED OUT TO EXECUTION._

I pa.s.s rapidly over the period of suspense which succeeded my examination.

Even now it is painful to look back on the time when I fully expected every hour of each ensuing day to be my last.

Yet night and morning came and went, and I still remained in the dark cell, unable to learn anything concerning my fate.

The only relief to the monotony was the coming of the jailer, and he was such a surly fellow that his visits gave me more pain than pleasure.

A whole week pa.s.sed in this way, and then I was again taken from the cell and marched to another part of the fortress.

At every step I gazed round anxiously, expecting to see the preparations for my execution.

Young, strong, and healthy, I had no wish to die; yet this horrible uncertainty, this alternation of hope and fear, was actually worse than death.

The faces of the soldiers were stolid and impa.s.sive--nothing could be learned from them; while the officer did not even look at me. We crossed the courtyard, and my pulses throbbed with fresh hope as I was led into a s.p.a.cious room, where a stout, florid man in military uniform sat at a table writing.

Only two of the escort had entered with the officer, and these stood with fixed bayonets.

The florid man left his chair, and pointing to another, said coldly,--

"Sit down there, Herr Botskay. By order of the general commanding, you are to answer these questions in writing, an hour being given you for the task."

To all appearance I was quite cool, but the blood surged through my veins like a rushing torrent, and I could not see the questions on the paper for dizziness.

Apathy and despair vanished. The latent spark of hope kindled into a fresh flame. Here was another chance of life and freedom. Alas! my new and beautiful castle was built on very frail foundations.

The questions numbered nearly a dozen, and were framed in such a manner that by answering them without adding the fullest explanations I should only make my case worse.

A quarter of an hour pa.s.sed, and I still sat staring stupidly at my blank sheet of paper.

The soldiers stood grimly at attention, the officer leaned on his sword, the stout man sat writing stolidly; no sound but the monotonous ticking of the clock and the beating of my own heart broke the silence.

At last, seizing the pen, I began to write--not in answer to the questions, but a short account of what had pa.s.sed between Von Theyer and myself, and an explanation of how I came to be in the company of Batori Gabor.

It was rather a lame performance, its chief merit being to afford a reason for Von Theyer's persecution; and when the official came to witness my signature, I felt it would do me but little good.

Another week pa.s.sed--a week of heart-wearing suspense--before I was again called to attend the court.

A single glance at the faces of my judges extinguished the tiny spark of hope which struggled to keep alive in my breast.

The president spoke in impressive tones, every word sounding distinctly in the quiet room.

It was a long speech, but the whole of it might easily have been compressed into a dozen sentences.

On the first two counts--refusing to surrender at Vilagos, and joining a band of notorious outlaws--I was unanimously found guilty, and sentenced to death.

After this, one would have thought the rest to be of little interest, but the president gravely continued his remarks.

The unlawful killing of Ober was also considered proved, and on the various other charges laid against me the court expressed no opinion.

"Therefore," concluded the president in a solemn voice, "it becomes my painful duty to tell you, George Botskay. that on the second morning from this you will be led out to execution in the market-place of this town, that your death may act as a warning to all those who vainly hope to oppose the imperial government."

My limbs trembled, the blood left my face, but, managing to control my voice, I said calmly, "As a soldier, general, you will know a soldier's feelings. I do not plead for mercy, but there is one favour I would like to beg."

"Speak on, Herr Botskay. It may be in our power to grant it."

"Then I ask that you will at least permit me to die the death of a soldier, and not that of a criminal."

"That," responded the old man, "is impossible, since you ceased to be a soldier when you joined Batori Gabor. As a brigand you were captured, as a brigand you must suffer;" and he waved his hand, directing that I should be removed.

Back again in the lonely cell, my first feeling was one of relief that the period of suspense had ended.

I could no longer be tortured by swift alternations of hopes and fears.

The worst had come, and with it a feeling of apathetic stupor.

But the next day, as I sat measuring off the hours by guess-work, a revulsion of feeling set in.

Life was sweet, and all the throbbing vigour of my youth protested hotly against this violent and disgraceful death.

Had it come when I charged with Gorgei at the head of our cavalry, or when beside my n.o.ble-hearted brother I scaled the ramparts of Buda, the glow of patriotism, of devotion to my outraged country, would have removed half its terrors; but now, in this guise!