Would that fatal act be thrown into the teeth of the Magyars for ever?
I think that the count must have pitied me, for he said kindly,--
"What is your name, my young friend? It is needless to ask your nationality."
The question restored my self-respect, and I raised my head proudly.
"George Botskay has little reason to be ashamed of his name," I said.
"A son of the late General Botskay?"
I bowed in reply, and the count addressed a few words to his colleagues, who retired one by one with evident reluctance.
"Now, my lad," exclaimed the fine old soldier, "what is it you wish to say? I am very busy, and cannot spare much time."
"I have come to warn you, count," I began, but at that he stopped me.
"The son of General Botskay should have known that I take no warning from rebels," he said sternly, and made a movement to ring the bell.