"Don't know. Never was here before. Expect they're waiting for the count. Choice company some of these gentlemen, eh?"
"Half of them, at least, are not Hungarians," I said.
"Friends of Hungary, my boy. A few Magyars like Beula, half a dozen Poles, several Italians from the Austrian provinces, a German or two from Munich, and a red republican from Paris. Here comes the count;" and a hum of applause greeted the president as he took his place at the desk.
He was a man about Rakoczy's age, a true Magyar in appearance, richly dressed, and exhibiting an air of easy self-assurance which suited him well.
As soon as the applause subsided, he rose and began in German to congratulate his associates on the triumph of the revolution. The emperor, he said, was a fugitive, the empire destroyed; henceforth the Austrians were a free people, and the brave Hungarians would hold out to them the right hand of brotherhood.
This statement produced frantic cheering, and the president had some difficulty in restoring quiet.
Much yet remained to be done, he continued; but before opening the regular business he had a pleasing duty to perform, to welcome to that meeting, in the name of the committee, three Hungarians, the possessors of glorious names--names that would endure while Hungary remained a nation.
This harangue had exhausted Stephen's patience, and when the speaker went on to glorify the actions of bygone Rakoczys and Botskays, he sprang to his feet.
"Now for a thunder-clap!" exclaimed my companion.
Unlike the president, Stephen spoke in the Hungarian tongue, which prevented the majority of his hearers from understanding a word he said.