"Learn of your own soldiers. The watchword by which we entered your camp is, 'Saddle horses and right about!' It points your course to you."
"So be it, then," said Richard, and he stepped to the door and issued an order to old Paul.
"The die is cast," said he to his mother as he returned to her side. "But what will become of you?"
"The Father above will watch over us," she returned calmly.
"But you cannot go back into the city," objected Richard; "it will be stormed to-morrow on all sides, and you would be in great danger. I must be off while we still have darkness and rain to cover our flight; and you had best come with me to the next village, where you can get a conveyance and escape into Hungary. Take Edith with you, too, mother."
The women, however, both shook their heads. "I am going back into the city, my son," declared the baroness.
"But the town will surely be taken to-morrow and you will be in danger," protested Richard.
"Nevertheless I am mindful but of one thing: I have another son there, and I am going back for him, no matter how great the peril. I must bring him away at all hazards."
Richard buried his face in his hands. "Oh, mother," he cried, "how small I seem to myself before your greatness of courage and loftiness of purpose!" He threw a look at Edith, as if to ask: "What will become of you, delicate lily uptorn by the blast? Whither will you go, where find shelter?"
Edith understood the questioning look and hastened to reply. "Don't be anxious about me. Your mother will accompany me to the convent. Punishment awaits me there, but it won't kill me; and I shall be well taken care of until you come back for me."