"And tried his very hardest to get you hanged," laughed Dobozy.
"That's so!" exclaimed Rakoczy. "Still, I would rather have slain him on the battlefield than in a duel."
"While he preferred that Botskay should hang," observed Dobozy.
In my dazed state at Arad I had not thought of the consequences which must follow Rakoczy's blow, but he and Dobozy knew the Austrian would be satisfied with nothing less than a duel to the death.
Indeed, my carriage had barely departed when several officers galloped up with demands for the most abject apology, unless my friend wished to receive challenges from all the officers of the regiment in succession.
To this Rakoczy replied good-humouredly that he had no quarrel with any one save their colonel, whom he would fight, and referred them to Dobozy as his friend.
A duel was accordingly arranged, in which Von Theyer fell, whereupon General Schlick forbade the officers of the regiment from carrying the matter farther.
All this had been talked over after supper, but the sight of the ring and miniature brought up the subject afresh.
At last, however, Rakoczy, shaking off his depression, settled down to explain how my pardon was obtained from the emperor.
"In the first place," he began, "everything is owing to Mecsey Sándor, who is the best and trustiest of servants."