him, for in
his seventy-fourth year he still feels the old-time passion for work
calling him to it early in the morning and holding him in its spell all
the day long. A small room adjoining his library contains the books of
reference he consults, a narrow bed like a soldier's, and a few window
plants. It might be the room of a monk, so bare is it of what the world
calls comforts. One devoted man-servant attends to Dr. Jokai's simple
wants with abundant leisure to spare.

While in Budapest Dr. Jokai is seldom seen away from home, except in
Parliament, where he has a seat in the Upper House, or at the theatre
where his plays are regularly performed, or at the table of a few dear
relatives and old-time friends. His life is exceedingly simple and well
ordered.

Just a little way back on the hills that rise beyond Buda, across the
Danube and overlooking wide stretches of beautiful, fertile country,
stands Dr. Jokai's summer-home. His garden is a paradise. Quantities of
roses climb over the unpretentious house, the paths are lined with them;
gay beds of poppies and other familiar favorites in our Western gardens,
but many new to American eyes, crowd the fruit that grows in delightful
abundance everywhere, for Dr. Jokai tends his garden with his own hands,
and his horticultural wisdom is only second to his knowledge of the
Turkish wars. His apples, pears, and roses win prizes at all the shows,
and his little book, "Hints on Gardening," propagates a large crop of
like-minded enthusiasts year after year. Now, as ever, any knowledge he
has he shares with the people. After a long life of bitter stress and
labor, abundant peace has come in the latter days.

Hungary boasts four great men: Liszt, Munkacsy, Kossuth, and Jokai, who
was the intimate friend of the other three.

NELTJE BLANCHAN.

NEW YORK, JUNE, 1898.

CONTENTS

I CYTHERA'S BRIGADE
II THE HOME OF ANECDOTE
III THE MISTRESS OF THE CATS
IV SATAN LACZI
V ANGE BARTHELMY
VI DEATH AND NEW LIFE IN THE NAMELESS CASTLE
VII THE HUNGARIAN MILITIA
VIII KATHARINA OR THEMIRE?
IX SATAN AND DEMON
X CONCLUSION

PART I

CYTHERA'S BRIGADE

CHAPTER I

A snow-storm was raging with such vigor that any one who chanced to be
passing along the silent thoroughfare might well have believed himself
in St. Petersburg instead of in Paris, in the Rue des Ours, a side
street leading into the Avenue St. Martin. The street, never a very busy