lend you my aid," it seemed to
say to him.

But Manasseh hastened from the room and turned his steps toward the
commandant's quarters. Perturbed in mind and hardly master of himself,
he started at the rattle of his own sword; and when some of his comrades
saw him pass and cheered him with loud hurrahs, he hurried by and barely
returned their salute.

The general received him in his breakfast-room, where he was engaged
with his morning mail. Acknowledging Manasseh's greeting, he handed him
an open letter. The Hungarian took it and read as follows:

"Villafranca. Peace has been concluded. The Hungarian battalion is
to be disbanded, and its members allowed to return home."

This room, too, had its crucifix. It seemed to look down on Manasseh
with the same gentle reproof, and to say, "Have I failed you in your
hour of trial?"

With the first ripening of the fruit in the Toroczko orchards, Manasseh
and his comrades were at home. Blanka came to meet her husband as far as
Kolozsvar, bringing her little daughter Ilonka with her. Bela could not
come, as he had just then a school examination. At the Borev bridge a
splendid reception awaited the home-comers. A handsome little lad headed
the receiving party, waving a flag.

"Who is that pretty boy?" Manasseh asked his wife.

She laughed merrily, and rebuked him for not knowing his own son. But he
had not seen the child for six years.

His brother Aaron, too, he hardly recognised, so gray had his hair
turned under the anxieties of the past few years. The speech of welcome
which the elder brother was to have delivered proved a total failure,
owing to the emotion aroused in the orator's breast at sight of the
returned wanderer. But the most affecting part of it all to Manasseh was
the appearance of his sister Anna. The poor girl, he could not fail to
see, was sinking into an early grave.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A DAY OF RECKONING.

Victory had neither glossed over nor defeat buried from sight those
dishonest army contracts. Louder and louder grew the murmurs against the
fraud that had contributed so disastrously to the unhappy issue of the
war, until at last a high military officer opened his mouth and
declared, emphatically, "The parties responsible for such an outrage
deserve to be hanged!"

Soon after this bold utterance a decree went forth for an investigation
of the scandal and the condign punishment of the guilty ones. Confusion
and panic followed in