"You wish to marry that girl in order to save your brother through the powerful influence of her family,—that girl whose dower will be my hatred, and on whom her country's curse and God's anger rest."
Aranka threw herself on her mother-in-law's breast. "Mother," she cried, "do not speak of her like that; he loves her!"
Ödön led his wife back to her seat. "Do not interpose, my dear," said he, firmly. "We are here concerned with matters of which your innocent soul can have not the slightest conception. To purchase life and property by swearing fidelity to the woman who was the inspiring demon of all the woe that so lately befell our poor country; who has nursed the hatred of one people against another; who has played the part of traitress, spy, slanderer; who has stirred up men against the throne only for the purpose of delivering them over to the hangman; who harbours such fiendish plots in her bosom that, if she had her way, she would embitter for ever one country against its neighbour,—to bring such a woman as wife into his father's house is what no Baradlay shall do, or if he should do it I know one who would refuse the gift of his life at such a price."
The baroness sank weeping on her eldest son's bosom. He had voiced the cry of her own proud soul. Jenő said nothing; he smiled sadly, and went about his preparations for departure. Aranka regarded him with compassion in her eyes.
"And do you, too, condemn me?" he asked softly.
"Do what your heart bids you," she sighed.
"Yes, with Heaven's help I will!"
His mother would not let him leave the room; she threw herself on her knees before him and blocked the way. "My son," she cried, "I beg you not to go. Let misery, torture, death itself overtake us; we will bear them all without complaint. Have not ten thousand already died for the cause? But our souls we will keep unsullied. Oh, do not close against us the way to heaven!"
"Mother, I implore you, rise."
"No; if you go, my place is here in the dust,—crushed to the earth."