While the gate-keeper was gone the three horsemen arrived.
"Hi! porter!" cried the foremost, whose figure, though not his features, was plainly discernible. He was mounted on a dark, undersized horse, and was enveloped in a sort of cloak of primitive shape, much like the coarse garment worn by swine-herds. His head was covered by a small round helmet, like a half melon.
"Here I am, what do you want?" answered Talabor.
"I come by order of Master Peter Szirmay," answered the man. "The Tartars have broken into the country, and his Honour has sent a garrison, as he does not consider the present one sufficient."
"You are Libor the clerk!" said Talabor, at once recognising the forward governor by his peculiar voice, which reminded him irresistibly of a cock's crow.
"And who may you be?"
"Talabor, if his Honour the governor still remembers my poor name."
"Ah! all right, Clerk! just let them be quick with the drawbridge, for it is going to rain, and I have no fancy for getting wet."
"No fear, Mr. Libor. It is not blowing up for rain yet! But in these perilous times, caution is the order of the day, and so, Mr. Libor, your Honour will perhaps explain how it happens that Mr. Paul Héderváry's gallant governor has been sent to our assistance by our master. That we are in much need of help I don't deny."
"Why such a heap of questions? Mr. Héderváry and some twenty or more Szirmays are in the King's camp, and Master Peter has sent me with Mr. Héderváry's consent, as being a man to be trusted."