"Well, instead of helping you out of a scrape, I got into one," and I related my adventures while with the band of robbers.
Both my listeners expressed astonishment at the conduct of Count Beula, and Dobozy frankly praised the bandit-chief for having hanged him.
"Yet he bore himself like a thorough soldier in the field," said Rakoczy, who rarely looked at the dark spots, even in the sun. "You may depend his nerves were overstrung. As to this Batori Gabor, I knew him well years ago. He belongs to a good family, but he fell foul of the Austrian police over some political matters, and took to the plains. I understand he did the enemy no end of damage during the war."
"He must be a daring fellow," exclaimed Dobozy with enthusiasm. "That was a bold venture, to creep into the kitchen amongst all those hussars."
"Almost as bold as Mecsey," I answered with a laugh; "but it is perhaps as well neither of them succeeded."
"Better," said Rakoczy, "as success in either case would have made you an outlaw; whereas you are now a free man."
"With liberty to visit Vienna whenever you like," laughed Dobozy; "but isn't it almost bed-time?"
Here, practically, my adventures with the red, white, and green flag come to an end. From that night in my old home with Dobozy and "John the Joyous" I date the beginning of a new life.
Gratitude, of course, and my promise to the dying baron took me to Vienna, where my reception encouraged me to pay several further visits, and in process of time my old friend's forecast was fulfilled. Theresa became my wife after her mother's death, and now there is no keener Magyar in all Hungary than Madame Botskay.
Every year we spend a couple of months in beautiful Pesth, and generally another month with the paralyzed Count Arnim and his wife, with both of whom Theresa is a great favourite, as indeed she is with most people.