Gela was silent a moment.
'Let us pray for him with all our might,' he said solemnly; and the two little boys knelt down by the bedside in their little nightshirts and prayed together for their father.
When Bela rose his face was very troubled, but very resolute. He drew out of its sheath a small sword with a handle of gold, which Egon Vàsàrhely had sent him years before. 'One must pray first,' he thought, 'but afterwards one must help oneself. God does not care for cowards.'
In the day he went out all alone and found Otto; the children were allowed to go over the home woods at their pleasure. The jägermeister was very dear to Bela, for he told such wondrous tales of sport and danger, and spoke with such reverent affection of his lost lord.
'Where can he be, Otto?' said the child now, in a low hushed voice, as they sat under the green oak boughs.
'Ah, my little Count, if only I knew!' said Otto. 'I would walk a thousand miles to him, and take him the first blackcock that shall fall to my gun this autumn.'
'You really say the truth? You do not know?' said Bela, with stern questioning eyes.
'Would I tell a lie, my little lord?' said the old hunter, reproachfully. 'Since your father drove away that cruel night none of us have set eyes on him, or ever heard a word. If Her Excellency do not know, how should we?'
'I mean to find him,' said the child, solemnly.
The old man sighed.