"My dear, good, kind godfather!" she murmured, as she covered the horny hand with grateful kisses.
"Why, how pleased she is! Silly child that you are!"
He rang the bell, and a secretary appeared.
"Sit down and write thus:
"'To the Lieutenant of the Prison.
"'By this present, I instruct your worship that you cause the noble prisoner, Mathias Ráby, to be released from the cell where he at present is confined, freed from irons, and be forthwith put in a place of honourable custody befitting his rank, till his trial takes place.'
"You will take the letter immediately to Pesth, and you will remain there till you have seen with your own eyes that the prisoner is transferred to proper custody, and further, will say, that I, myself, shall follow in half an hour's time to see whether my orders have been executed."
The secretary hastened away to fulfil his commission.
Mariska was beside herself with joy.
"So my foolish god-daughter is satisfied at last, is she? Go back to your pastry-making, for I want some cakes badly. Yet no more tears, please! But come back with me," he added, "and I'll take you home. When your father hears you've been to me to plead for Ráby, he'll be mighty angry. So you had better let me take you back and smooth it over for you at home. But I tell you, you must promise to put the fellow out of your thoughts! No, no, I'm not going to say anything against him; for pity's sake let's have no more weeping. Rest easy, no harm shall happen to him. He'll soon be set at liberty, and go back to Vienna, and then he'll cease to trouble us."