"That ought to be proof enough," replied Rakoczy, laughing, "and I'm glad to hear it; because, like these lads, I've no idea of spilling my blood in order to make Kossuth dictator."
"You're going to fight, my dear fellow, and not bother your head about politics. First, though, there's a lot of work to be done. We want ammunition and stores of all sorts, and, as much as anything, we want soldiers; we've plenty of men."
"You aren't going to turn me into a drill-sergeant?"
"I am though. 'Right! Left! Keep your heads up there! Close up on the right!' That will be your work for the next week or two, while I dodge about here, and make Windischgratz believe we're burning to fight."
"Where am I to go?"
"Pesth, with the rank of major. Tedious work you'll find it, and no glory either; but you'll do more good there than marching and counter-marching with me. Now, as to these lads. Which is it to be--a showy uniform or downright hard grinding?"
"Take them on your staff," suggested Rakoczy. "They'll get both then."
"Haven't room for more than one."
"Let that be Stephen," I exclaimed promptly.
"Take George. He is the better horseman," said my brother.