"We hasten to inform your Honour that preparations are being made by the Commandant of the fortress of Szathmár, which leads us to conjecture that he meditates making an irruption into Transylvania. It may, of course, be merely a feint, but your Honour would do well to be prepared and under arms, lest he have designs against us, and is not merely making a noise. We, meanwhile, will postpone the advance of our arms into Hungary, lest, while we are attacking on one side, we leave Transylvania defenceless on the other. Once more we counsel your Honour to use the utmost caution, etc."
"And now take these letters and carry them to the Prince, that he may sign them."
"And what if he box my ears for allowing your Excellency to dictate?" said the frightened lad.
"Never mind it, my son, you will have suffered for your country. I, too, have had buffets enough in my time, not only when I was a child, but since I have grown up." And with that he turned his face towards the wall and pulled the coverlet over him.
Fortunately Cserei found Apafi in the apartment of the consort, and thus avoided the box on the ear, got the letters signed, and dispatched them all in different directions, so that all three got into the proper hands in the shortest conceivable time. And now let us see the result.
The Grand Vizier blasphemed when he had read his, and swore emphatically that if there were no hay in Transylvania he would make hay of their Excellencies.
Baron Kopp and Mr. Kászonyi chuckled together over their letter. The Commandant murmured gruffly: "I don't care, so you needn't."
Mr. Ebéni, however, on reading his letter, deposited it neatly among the public archives, growling angrily:
"If I were to call the people to arms at every wild alarm or idle rumour, I should have nothing else to do all day long. It is a pity that Teleki hasn't something better to do than to bother me continually with his scribble."