Thinking the sight of my uniform might inspire respect, I unfastened my mantle carelessly; and, as I had half expected, the men at once assumed a respectful bearing.
"An officer of the staff who has escaped from the Russians!" cried one. "We must tell the chief."
"Where is he?" I asked.
"At supper in the inner room, my master."
"Then tell him Captain Botskay will be pleased to bear him company."
The man knocked at the door separating the kitchen from the next apartment, held a conversation with some one inside, and returned to say that Batori Gabor would be happy to give me greeting.
CHAPTER XXIII.
COUNT BEULA DISLIKES HANGING.
Batori Gabor stood at the door of the inner room, and with the instinctive courtesy of the Magyar bade me welcome.
This famous brigand, who for years had lived an outlaw's life, was tall and strongly built, with massive limbs and deep, capacious chest. His face was bronzed and rugged; his black hair hung in curls over his shoulders; his eyes were dark, fiery, and searching.