sh joy, and as he turned his head aside
greeted him mockingly.

"Good-morning, my gracious lord."

But Banfy galloped on defiantly. At the castle gate his steward from
Bonczida was already waiting for him. After the Szeklers had forced
their way into Bonczida he had escaped; but not willing to make a
sensation with his Job's message had told nobody, and now only
whispered briefly to his lord that everything in the castle from top
to bottom was upturned and that the Szeklers had entertained
themselves after their own heart. Banfy answered not a word. He called
for his armor and his war-horse and made his preparations quietly.

"My gracious lord would perhaps do well to make haste," urged the
steward. "The Szeklers are already in the house."

"It is well," answered Banfy, pacing up and down with folded arms.

"No, my gracious lord, it is not well. They have destroyed everything
in the rooms, cut the carpets, divided up the valuables, let the wine
in the cellar run out and finally stolen the horses."

"It is no matter," answered the magnate, gloomily. What did he care at
that moment for all the valuables, wine or riding horses?

"They have done even more, my lord. They have forced their way into
your wife's sleeping-room, used the portrait of the gracious lady as a
target and disfigured it horribly."

"What! the portrait of my wife!" cried Banfy, laying his hand on his
sword. "The portrait of my wife did you say?" he repeated, with
flashing eyes. "Ah," he cried, tearing his sword from its sheath and
turning his face upward with an expression never before seen on it. He
was like an exasperated tiger in chains, with bloodshot eyes, thick
swollen veins in his brow and bloodthirsty lips.

"May God have mercy on them!" he cried out in a fearful voice, and
throwing himself on his horse rode out to his troops.

"My friends," he cried, before he reached the ranks, "a swarm of
hornets has fallen on my castle and plundered it. They have destroyed
everything in my rooms, cleared my stables, robbed my family
treasures; but I care not for that, let them gorge their fill, let
them have what they never knew before, let them steal me even, I
should still be master and even after this robbery, with one hand
could pay off all these beggarly Szekler princes. But they have abused
the portrait of my wife--of my wife! And I will have my revenge for
it--a frightful revenge! Follow me. The trees in the garden at
Bonczida have not born