onor. But
some one behind laid his hands on his shoulders and pressed him down
into his place, telling him in a low, familiar voice that he was to
remain seated. Apafi looked around and fell back on his seat in
astonishment, for the man behind him was no other than his brother
Stephen.

"You here, too!" said Apafi to him, deeply affected.

"I was a little belated," said Stephen, "but I arrived in time and
will stay as long as you command."

"Will you also run into danger?"

"My brother, our fate lies in God's hand, but we too have something in
hand which will have a little to say," and with that he laid his hand
on his sword hilt. "Kemeny has forfeited the love of his country,--I
need not tell you why. You have good cause to triumph and the ways and
means will not fail you."

"But if it should prove otherwise? what is then to become of my
wife--have you not seen her?"

"I have just come from there. That is why I was late."

"You have talked with her? What did she say about my affairs? Is she
very much worried?"

"Not in the least. On the contrary, she is very much pleased, and
thinks Transylvania could not have found a better prince; that you
deserve this honor much more than any of the great lords, who have no
thought except for tyranny or carousal, and she regrets very much that
her child is still so young she cannot come to strengthen and
encourage you."

"I should have been much better pleased had she been chosen prince,"
said Apafi, half in vexation and half in jest.

"Look out," said Stephen, "the young woman is so accustomed to
managing affairs at home that if you do not keep the crown firmly on
your own head we shall yet live to see her wearing it on hers. This,
of course, I speak only in jest."

There is many a truth spoken in jest.

CHAPTER IV

THE HUNGARIAN PRINCES IN BANQUET

His Excellency, Prince John Kemeny, was meantime tarrying mid sport
and pleasure in Hermanstadt. This good lord had a perfect passion for
eating, and would not have given up his dinner if the last spoke in
the last wheel of the state carriage had been broken. Among his
counsellors his cook stood first. The entire town-hall was at his
disposal and had been taken possession of by his attendants. In the
courtyard spur-clanking cuirassiers amused themselves with
Transylvanian-Saxon serving-women. A few German musketeers stationed
on guard, had leaned their weapons against the gate-post and entered
into friendly