"Stay with me," he said, sorrowfully. "Here you can live in peace until the fate of the country meets with a change."
"Too late," replied Wesselenyi. "I have already enlisted as common soldier under the standard of the French general, Count Bohan."
"You, a common soldier! You, a descendant of the Palatine Wesselenyi! And what is to become of my daughter meantime?"
"She is to remain with you and to be widowed until the struggle for Hungary is over."
When he had finished speaking he placed his young wife Sophie in Beldi's arms, kissed her brow and went away with dry eyes.
Within the people were clamoring. Beldi saw his daughter sob and a bitter feeling began to blaze in his breast, not unlike revenge. He began to feel almost content that within there was a cry for war and he stood ready to draw his sword—he, the leader of the peace party!—to rush into the hall of the Diet and cry aloud, "War and retaliation!"
At this moment the pages conducted to the door of the entrance hall an old man, pale as death who, recognizing Beldi, hastened to him and addressed him with trembling voice:
"My lord, surely you are the general of the Szeklers, Paul Beldi, of Uzoni?"
"Yes, what do you wish of me?"
"I am," stammered, in dying voice, the sick old man, "Benfalva's last inhabitant. The rest have all been carried off by war—famine—pestilence. I alone am left; after I came away the place was entirely deserted; I too feel my release near and so I have brought with me to give over to you, the public seal, and the—village bell—give them over to the nation—let them be kept in the archives—and let it be written above: 'This was the bell and the seal of Benfalva, in which village everybody to the last man is dead'!" At this Beldi let his hand fall from his sword hilt in dismay and freed himself from the embrace of his daughter who was still clinging to him.