The women sobbed as we went by, and looked at us with a yearning pity that almost broke down my composure. The eyes of the men flashed with fierce hate, and I thought it well that these brave Magyars had no weapons.
Little children were held up in the arms of their fathers to see us, and were that day taught a lesson which they would not forget in many years.
The nearer we approached our destination the denser the crowd became, while the market-place itself was so packed that several persons died of suffocation.
There, during the preceding night, an enormous wooden stage had been erected, and in the centre was a tall gallows.
At the sight of this, I confess freely, my heart sank, and I feared that my courage would desert me.
Now just at this moment I saw the face of the gallant Mecsey Sándor, which acted on my nerves like a strong tonic.
The faithful fellow stood in the very foremost of the crowd, immediately behind the soldiers, and opposite the steps by which the wide platform was reached.
He was very mournful, yet the look in his eyes expressed something more than sorrow.
"Courage, my sweet master, and God bless you!" cried he boldly, while I, turning my head, smiled to show I understood.
"Courage, George Botskay!" exclaimed a second voice. "The Austrians cannot kill your name, which will never die in Magyar-land."