"Have no fear, comrade, we will live and die together."
But Valentine lagged behind the troop. A load lay upon his breast. From his earliest childhood he had been wont every night, as it grew dark, to say this prayer: "Be with me, O Lord my God! and let my poor, good mother awake safe and sound. Amen." His tutor had taught him a much finer prayer in Latin; but this prayer he never could recollect. He could never reconcile himself to the secula seculorum; why should he ask good things for himself for a thousand years to come? He was content to pray for what he wanted day by day. That would be quite enough if it were granted him. He made as if he were only dismounting to tighten his loosened saddle-girth, and when he was out of hearing of his comrades' curses, he covered his face in his furred horse-cloth and muttered his short prayer, whereupon he swung himself into his saddle with a lightened heart and galloped after his comrades.
By morning they stood before Nemeti, which is half an hour's journey from Göncz, and there the captain, officers, and gentry swear the banner oath under the open sky. Then they halted, and after a short rest proceeded on further.
Just as they were about to cross the Hernad at Nemeti, whom do you think they found on the banks? Why, Dame Sarah with a huge Kassa wagon drawn by three stout horses. The wagon was well laden. It contained a Gönczer cask full of wine, a keg of plum brandy, fresh white bread, cakes, sheep cheeses in small trusses, and in the midst of this ambulant storehouse beamed the radiant countenance of the buxom citizeness of Kassa, with both her round white arms bare to the elbow.
"My dear, good mother! What do you want here?" cried Valentine, rushing to the wagon.
"Oh, you wicked son! if you are bent on following this trade, I, at any rate, won't let you die of hunger. Come, eat and drink! Call hither, too, the gentleman officers and your good companions. There is enough here for everyone."
They did not wait to be asked twice, but crowded round the wagon straightway, and Dame Sarah helped them to everything with both hands. When she perceived the trumpeter she singled him out from the rest.
"Hi! come here, trumpeter! May the thunderbolt strike the ground within three yards of you! You've seduced my son, have you? Then come hither and sit down by me, and if you don't eat your fill it will be the worse for you."
Good Simplex did what he could. He sat down in the wagon at Dame Sarah's side, and ate and drank his fill; but soon his appetite began to flag, and at last he protested he could go on no longer.
"Fellow! you must eat or I'll stuff it down your throat."