He raised his hand to strike me, but dropped it again.
"We will square our account later," he said, and gave the word to trot.
We rode on accordingly, but I could not drag my mind from that dreadful place.
I saw nothing of the country through which we passed. I could only see the grey face of the dead count staring down upon me from that primitive gallows.
I never met Batori again, but one of his men years afterwards related just how the tragedy happened.
The bandits, seeing me jump down to the count's assistance when his horse fell, and thinking my animal would have to carry the two of us, slackened their speed, so that we might the more easily catch them up.
When Count Beula arrived by himself, and they, looking back, saw me standing alone beside the dead horse, it was easy to guess what had happened.
The count, who was dreadfully excited, made no attempt to hide what he had done, but explained that had the Austrians captured him they would have hanged him on the nearest tree.
"Or beam," added Batori coolly.
"Tree or beam," answered the count. "That's the order which refers to both of us."