Banfi stepped up to his lifeless consort and kissed her cold, pale face for the last time; then, turning calmly to Csaky, he said—
"Yes; I am ready now!"
A quarter of an hour later Csaky admitted the messengers.
"What do you bring?" he asked the pantler.
"The Prince's pardon for the prisoner."
"You are too late!—And you?"
"A cere-cloth for the corpse!"
"You have brought it very opportunely."
The highest head of the Transylvanian nobility had already fallen in the dust.