"That is worse still," murmured the General, and he pressed his iron fists still more violently together.
"And if I am not mistaken, this is the third time that he has run away."
There were now two beads of sweat on the General's forehead; he would have wiped it dry with his hand, but he could not, for his fists were firmly clenched, and it never occurred to him to open them.
"My dear Cornelia," said he, "if you know where this young man now is, I implore you to tell me nothing about it. You know that I ought not to hear it."
"You very soon will know all about it; the unhappy youth appeared in his father's house on the very day when his sister and her son lay in their coffins."
"Then he has been arrested," cried the General quickly.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because his own father would be the first person to deliver him up."
Cornelia regarded her husband with amazement.
"Is it not so, I say?" he cried passionately, springing from his seat "Hétfalusy has given up his fugitive son, I'll swear he has, even if I had not been told it beforehand."