The light showed my strange attire, and the general, in spite of his genuine distress, could not forego his joke.
"Ach, Botskay!" cried he good-humouredly, "I'm afraid we've disturbed you. Just going to bed, eh? Here, take this," and removing the bunda which lay across his saddle, he threw it over my shoulders.
"Thanks, general," I replied gratefully. "That feels more comfortable."
"Have you brought any information? Yes?--Szondi, lend Botskay your horse. He can tell me his news as we go back."
My brother-officer jumped down at once, and I mounted in his stead.
"Now," said Görgei, as he and I rode in advance, "what have you learned?"
In reply I related how I had watched the march of the Russian army, and gave him the approximate numbers of their men, horses, and guns.
He listened very attentively, put numerous questions, most of which I was able to answer, and appeared exceedingly thoughtful.
"Well, well," he at last exclaimed, "we must do our best; but unless Dembinski joins us from the south, I don't see how we're to escape. Other three weeks, my boy, will see the end of it."
It was perfectly plain that the general's common-sense prevented him from hoping any longer, but he kept his knowledge to himself; and when, later on, we gathered round his table for an hour, he was the life and soul of the party.