Ivan, on the other hand, is more practical. He knows his own people better, and anticipates much greater success from an insidious surprise in which the warriors shall stealthily crawl over walls and through windows upon the unguarded and unsuspecting garrison, and massacre them in their dreams.
The wife of the headsman sits on the table opposite the two commanders-in-chief with a mocking smile upon her lips, and her huge muscular arms crossed over her bosom. From time to time she utters a scornful laugh and grunts disapprovingly.
"Do what you like," she said at last, "neither of you knows anything about it. The buffalo-catcher would proceed cautiously and the cripple would run like a 'bull' at the gate."
"And what would you do, I should like to know," snarled Ivan.
"I know something, and I know how to keep it to myself. When you two have made a mess of it, then I shall come forward."
The commanders began to be jealous of her influence. The first success always wins the heart of the mob, they must make sure of that anyhow.
"Call in the Leather-bell," cried Ivan to the doorkeepers.
The old fellow was shoved in.
"The castle watch-dogs know you, don't they?" he was asked.
"Know me? of course they do," replied the worthy man. "Why, I brought up Tiszá and Farkas myself. I give them bread every day. Why, they sniff my pockets even now whenever I go along there."