"I have been looking for you in your quarters, lieutenant-general," said he; "and as I did not find you at home, it is a good thing you are here. See, this is from the king; please to read it." And he handed a note to Michael, who turned deadly pale as he took it and read as follows:—
"I wish you all good.
"So you have become very well acquainted indeed with your neighbours! and we suspect that you have spent more time tied to their apron-strings than in exercising the garrison. We shall therefore give you something to do.
"We shall expect you to be at Visegrád by eleven o'clock to-morrow morning, and we will there give you our orders. Be prepared for three months' absence from Buda.
"You will not see your neighbour again; she is to be the bride of Aggtelky Mihály, one of our best-beloved and most trusty counts. God be with us.[15]
"Matthias."
[15] Equivalent to our "adieu."
The note was written in the most formally polite style. There was no "gossip" or "little brother," there was not even a "thou" in it—nothing from beginning to end but "your grace," answering indeed to our "you," but a good deal more chilling to those accustomed to the friendly "thee" and "thou."
Michael smothered his wrath as best he could, feeling how much he owed to the king, and that it would be the blackest ingratitude to show passion and resentment because he now crossed his will.
"I will obey His Highness's commands," said he to the page, who at once withdrew.