I told Joseph Vészi, the editor-in-chief of the _Pester Lloyd_, that we were on the defensive and did not intend to attack. His sense of justice inspired him to say: “I shall publish your appeal, and I think it is natural that you should organise on a Christian and national basis, because Hungary was ruined by Jews—not by _the_ Jews—but by Jews. Five hundred Jews.... I say so, though I am a Jew myself.” I noted these words, not as a testimony to me, but as an admission! I have no doubt that there are many Jews who think the same. But surely they do a great wrong to their own people by not branding such among them as “black sheep,” especially at a time when they alone have the right to speak and protest in the interest of the country. The Socialist press passed over the manifesto in silence. When I started out a wintry storm was howling over the houses. Count Stephen Bethlen had convoked another meeting for five o’clock in the House of the Franciscans. Up in the dark sky black clouds raced along like fearsome witches. Only a few street lamps were alight, and the rattling of their panes in the wind sounded as if their teeth were chattering. The whole town was thronging to the first mass-meeting of the communists. Above the houses the eternal flags were flapping wildly, their green and white parts so begrimed that now only the red was showing like a blotch of blood. In the dirty streets scraps of paper and dirt were whirled about, and the wind almost blew people off their legs. When I came to the big mansion, which faces on to two streets, armed soldiers were standing at the entrance, with red cockades on their caps. They stared hard at me, and when I got inside I was told that there were soldiers at the other entrance too. “They are watching us....” Count Bethlen again raised the question of unity. “Foreign bayonets are marching on the capital; don’t let it be said that we couldn’t agree until we were under their very shadow.” Hours passed in hopeless, sterile discussion. All the time I could not help thinking how the socialists in the Workers’ Council had by now practically joined forces with the Communists, and that while we were unable to come to an agreement they were probably howling in unison at their general meeting for the destruction of our country, faith and homes. In all my life I was never more despondent. As a last hope I got up and said that the Christian women had already joined together, and that we were now all in one camp and only waiting to be able to join with the united parties. “Long live the ladies!” shouted the whole room, but again nothing happened, and the meeting dispersed without having come to any decision—just like the time before. When I left, the soldiers were no longer loafing near the entrance. A rabble crowded the streets, and an acquaintance whom I met said to me: “Do you see this mob? It has come from the mass-meeting, where it has been listening to the Communists’ speeches.”