“Soldiers ...” and I handed the papers to her. I glanced at the page of one of them: these lines met my eyes: “... Glorious Revolution. The National Council has taken over the government of Hungary.... Naturally the constitution is no longer what it was. The King has handed all his powers to Károlyi, so that he may maintain order in the land.” I turned the page. “One detachment of soldiers after the other declares its adherence to the National Council. The communal authorities have submitted to the National Council. So have the Exchange, the railwaymen, the men of the electric trams.... Count Julius Andrássy, the last common Minister for Foreign Affairs, has resigned!” News followed news in a topsy-turvy way. Vienna—in Austria too the old order has passed away. A Social Democrat called Renner has been made Chancellor. The Social Democratic deputy, Victor Adler, has become Foreign Secretary. I read further, then my eyes were arrested by a proclamation of the National Council: “Our beflowered and bloodless revolution will bind the nation with eternal gratitude to the men who have worked disinterestedly at its reconstruction.” I looked at the end of the paper: a notice in small type caught my attention: “Report of the General Staff: As early as the 29th of October the Higher Command had established communication with the Italian Commander in Chief”.... “Trieste has been occupied by an English fleet”.... “The King has ordered that the Fleet, the naval institutions and all other things pertaining to the Navy, shall be gradually handed over to the local Committees of Zágráb and of Pola....” Every word of the papers strikes one in the face. Insult, shame and degradation. And in face of this maddening conglomeration of defeats, of this heartless report of Hungary’s collapse, there is Michael Károlyi’s order: “The National Council orders that on the occasion of the people’s victory, which has for ever abolished war, the whole of Budapest and all provincial towns are to be beflagged.” My mother has thrown her paper aside. “Have you read the circular by which the National Council informs the people of Hungary that Budapest has taken the power into its own hands and that ‘not a single drop of Hungarian blood has been shed?’ Tisza’s blood is not Hungarian blood in the eyes of Károlyi and his friends.” Even as she spoke, on the last page of one of the papers I came across the following: “Count Stephen Tisza has been sacrificed to the cause of freedom...” “They hid that so carefully that I could not find it,” said my mother. I read aloud: “At the villa at 35 Hermina Road an officer and a civilian appeared on the morning of the murder. They demanded admittance. Tisza received them in his study. ‘What do you want?’ he asked, and the civilian answered: ‘Are you hiding that swine of a Czech attorney who is upholding the accusation against me?’ ‘I don’t hide anybody,’ replied Tisza.