Laskóy struck the table with his fist. "That is not true," he said, "it is not in his Majesty's instructions."
"I have seen it myself," said Ráby, "the Emperor gave it into my own hands to read."
At these words there was a perfect outburst of wrath and indignation from the whole company, so that Ráby could not speak for the uproar; when the noise had quieted down, he went on:
"The men who freed me are not forthcoming as witnesses. But there are two at least, who must know what happened that night, and this is the heyduke who stood before the door of my cell, and the other who kept the gate. Though I did not see them I know what their names were, for I heard the castellan address them as Sipos and Nagy."
"Let them be brought in," said Laskóy to the castellan with a meaning grimace.
But it was Ráby's turn to be astonished when the witnesses entered. For there before him, stood his two travelling companions, the pretended pig-dealer, Kurovics, and his comrade, who had accompanied him to Vienna! And these, it appeared, were the two heydukes who had been commissioned to play this trick upon their unsuspecting victim. Ráby's brain fairly reeled at the thought of the lying fraud to which he had been forced to lend himself.
But the examination of Sipos was beginning. "It seems you were the guard at the door of the prisoner's cell, the night of his escape?" questioned the judge. "Do you know what happened?"
The witness groaned, and murmured something incoherent.
"Tell us what you know. The truth, out with it!" as the man hesitated.
"Ah, how can I say it!" exclaimed the fellow, while the gaoler shook his fist at him menacingly.