Gazing at the well-knit figure and the calm, proud face of the sturdy veteran, I felt convinced that he would not move a finger to avert the impending tragedy.
"You seem sorry," he said, "but there is little to grieve about. I am a soldier, and know how to die at my post. Still, I thank you for trying to help me; and may the time soon come when Austrians and Hungarians will once more join hands as brethren and loyal subjects of the emperor."
"Amen to that!" I replied fervently, and the proud old noble, shaking my hand, himself led me to the door.
At the head of the stairs I turned and glanced at him again. He waved his hand cordially; his features were calm and unruffled, his air was serene, as though he knew nothing of the dangers which threatened him.
Brave old count! After all, he chose the better part!
Rakoczy and my brother waited at the corner of the square, but they saw at once that my errand had been in vain.
"He will die at his post, if need be," I said, as we got clear of the crowd.
"What else could he do?" asked Stephen. "You would not expect the soldier of half a century to run away from the armed rabble."
"Well," exclaimed Rakoczy, "we have done our best to save him; now we must look to ourselves. I suppose you two intend joining the army?"
"Yes; but we will wait and see what happens to-morrow."