Apafi stood still and looked inquiringly at his wife. She drew him closer to her and whispered in his ear—
"Before coming to Klausenburg, I secretly instructed the well-disposed within the town to try and bring the garrison over to our side. This morning our spies have brought us word that the infantry is ready, at the first sound of the trumpet from without, to open the gates and go over to us with bag and baggage. The cavalry by itself will be unable to offer any resistance."
"My dear!" cried Apafi in astonishment, "you are really a born princess."
Anna took her husband softly by the arm, led him to the daïs, and made him sit down.
"The sceptre is no plaything, Apafi," said she earnestly. "Never forget that posterity will sit in judgment on princes. A ruler's every act and word may mean the ruin or the salvation of thousands. Think of that in all you do and say. And now, God be with you. Be firm!"
Anna, with an exalted look, kissed the Prince on the forehead. At that very moment her eye fell on the parchment roll of the itinerant scholar.
"What plan of campaign is this?" cried she, taking up the parchment.
Apafi would have snatched it from her, but it was too late; Anna had already unrolled it, and after casting a rapid glance over the lickspittling pedigree, looked with an expression of overwhelming reproach at the discomfited Prince, who stood before her with downcast eyes.
"Did you get any one to compose it?" she softly asked.
"Certainly not," replied Apafi energetically; "a shameless poet brought it to me."