"Stop!" said Banfy, in a thundering voice and at the same time standing before the herald. "The life of this man is sacred and inviolable. Keep your places. Let no man put his hand to his sword. I order you—I, your leader."
"Three cheers!" shouted the brigades, and at the word of command formed in ranks and stood like a wall.
"You will not bear me ill-will," said Banfy to the herald who had turned pale, "that these men have this once more obeyed me. Go back to your Prince and tell him that I will appear before him within three days."
"We will be there too," shouted the captain. The herald and his retinue moved away. Banfy dropped his head in deep thought. The trumpet sounded, for the banners were unfurled, but Banfy still stared into space, speechless, heavy-hearted and gloomy.
"Draw your sword, my lord," Angyal said to him. "Put yourself at our head and let us start, first for Bonczida, and then for Karlsburg."
"What is that you say?" said Banfy. "What do you mean?"
"Why, that since the law has expressed itself by the sword, the sword shall be our defence."
"Such a case at law would be called civil war."
"We did not start it: neither shall we add fuel to the flame."
"It is no longer a war against my personal enemies but against the Prince, and he is the head of our country."