There was a storm of "Eljens," mingled with cries in various tongues unintelligible to the rest. They threatened, they swore, they yelled; and in this disorderly fashion approached the group of which the King was the centre.
"Not to me! There is the King!" said the Duke, as the rather bewildered officer pushed his prisoner up to the Commander-in-Chief.
"Well, what news do you bring? Who are you? Where are you from?" the King asked good-humouredly, but with an involuntary smile of contempt.
"I am a Magyar, your Majesty," said the man in a doleful voice. "The Tartars carried me off just outside Pest."
"Why!" exclaimed Paul Héderváry suddenly, as he stood facing the fugitive, "why, if it isn't Mr. Libor's groom, Matykó!"
Libor, as we have said, was not to be found on the morning of Paul's expedition with Bishop Ugrin; and not having seen or heard of him since, Paul had been growing daily more anxious on his account. He missed him, too, at every turn, for Libor had made himself indispensable to his comfort.
Stephen Szirmay and Master Peter, who were as usual in close attendance upon the King, looked with curiosity at the unfortunate lad, who, as they now saw, had lost both ears.
"What have you done with your master?" inquired Master Stephen, forgetting the King for a moment in his eagerness.
"The Tartars are going to attack the Hungarian camp this very night!" blurted out the fugitive, with a loud snort; after which, and having relieved his news-bag of this weighty portion of its contents, he seemed to feel easier.
"Do you know it for a fact?" asked the King gravely. "Take care what you are saying, for your head will have to answer for it."