The youth looked up in astonishment.
"I have no recollection of such a person. She had no brother."
Vértessy shrugged his shoulders.
"He himself told me so, he was with me here to-day."
A struggle with a torturing suspicion seemed to be going on in the young soldier's troubled mind; presently, however, he turned to the General with a radiant countenance and said to him with a smile:
"All these things, General, will alleviate my chastisement and I thank you for telling them to me. I regret that my misfortune will cause others to shed tears which I did not expect, which I do not desire; still, they will greatly ease my affliction. I am sure that you too, at the bottom of your heart, forgive me and my poor family—you do forgive us, General, do you not? Will you not even go further and protect that poor old man who has now got nobody to stand by him?—will you not be his protector if any danger, yes, any great danger should threaten him?"
The General pressed the young man's extended hand—the chains rattled on the hand that he held in his.
"And now, General, may I speak to you of a very serious matter? Would you be so good as to hear me out?"
"Say on."
"And you will not take what I am about to tell you as the mere ravings of a disordered brain? Many men's brains grow disordered at the approach of death I know; you will not imagine that I am simply delirious, will you? You will believe that I am well and with all my wits, sound both in heart and mind, will you not?"