"Now let the lords betake themselves to the church—and do you give your oath to your Prince according to your custom and swear fealty to each other. The bells have already been rung at my order. Have mass said in due form."
"Pardon me, but I am of the Reformed Church," protested Apafi.
"That suits me all the better. The affair can be conducted with less formality. There is his Reverence Franz, the Magyar, he shall preach the sermon."
Apafi let them do as they would, only nervously stroking his moustache and shrugging his shoulders when he was questioned. Nalaczy and the rest of the Szeklers considered it proper to meet him in the church with all the reverence due to princes. The Reverend Franz extemporized a powerful sermon, in which he assured them in thundering language that the God of Israel who had called David from his sheep to the kingly throne and exalted him above all his enemies, would now too maintain his chosen one in his good pleasure, though his foes were as numerous as the blades of grass in the field, or the sands of the seashore.
This little church could never have dreamed that it would one day be the scene of a convention and a princely election. And Apafi could certainly never have dreamed that all this would have been fulfilled for him. He had neither ear nor eye for the consecration nor for the sermon, for his mind was constantly busied with the thought of what might become of his wife and child and where would they find refuge if he should fall into the hands of Kemény and they should be driven from house and home. Then it occurred to him that somewhere in the land of the Szeklers he had a brother, Stephen Apafi, with whom he had always had the friendliest relations, and who would certainly take care of them if he saw them in misery. These thoughts made him forget everything about himself so completely that when at the conclusion of the assembly all present rose and began the Te Deum, he too arose, quite ignoring the fact that these services were in his honor. But some one behind laid his hands on his shoulders and pressed him down into his place, telling him in a low, familiar voice that he was to remain seated. Apafi looked around and fell back on his seat in astonishment, for the man behind him was no other than his brother Stephen.
"You here, too!" said Apafi to him, deeply affected.
"I was a little belated," said Stephen, "but I arrived in time and will stay as long as you command."
"Will you also run into danger?"
"My brother, our fate lies in God's hand, but we too have something in hand which will have a little to say," and with that he laid his hand on his sword hilt. "Kemény has forfeited the love of his country,—I need not tell you why. You have good cause to triumph and the ways and means will not fail you."
"But if it should prove otherwise? what is then to become of my wife—have you not seen her?"