"Draw your sword, my lord!" cried Angel; "place yourself at our head, and let us start. First to Bonczhida and then to Fehervár."
"What do you say?" said Banfi, with a start. "What is it?"
"I say that if the law of the sword is to try you, the sword must also be your defence."
"And such a process is generally called civil war!"
"We have not kindled it."
"Nor will we fan it. 'Tis no longer, I see, a struggle against my personal enemies, but against the Prince, and he is the head of the land."
"And are not you its right arm? If they choose to light up the flames of civil war, we will not allow it to be quenched in your blood."
"And why should my blood flow at all? Have I committed any capital offence? Can I even be charged with such a thing?"
"You are powerful, and that is a sufficient reason for killing you."
"I care not. I'll go, and what is more, alone. My wife is in their hands. They have the power to make me feel their wrath in the most painful way, and if there were no other reason for appearing, it is my knightly duty to release her."