Without wounds received on the fields of Bolshevik glory, but with many millions of Austro-Hungarian banknotes, they disappeared into the obscurity from which they had emerged to Hungary’s misfortune a few months before. They have gone, as Michael Károlyi did before them. So the country hoisted its tricolour flag once more. But the Government of Peidl, which not only tolerated but abetted and organised the flight of the criminals, would not tolerate such a resurrection; so it forbade the flag and proclaimed martial law. [Illustration: BÉLA VAGO _alias_ WEISS. ASSISTANT COMMISSARY FOR HOME AFFAIRS. ] Aladár Huszár has been arrested in the street and is in prison. The commander of the Red garrison wants to have him executed for the National Anthem incident, and for wearing ribbons of the national colours, but the chief of the police telephoned to Budapest, asking that he be reprieved. The answer came: “Keep him in custody and let the Terrorists take him to Budapest.” The Terrorists openly declare that they are going to settle with him on the way. Mrs. Huszár wanted to see her husband, but the Terrorists would not let her. “Comrade Szijgyártó is interrogating him now.” The news spread like wildfire. Machine-guns were mounted in front of the county hall. Then the whole town began to simmer and even the inhabitants of the red-postered houses came forth—officials, teachers, the whole educated class, the people of no importance coming to protect the unimportant folk’s friend. The railway men, the postmen, all of them, clamoured that Huszár should be set free. And suddenly the Red garrison went over to their side. The drum again: “Anybody found in the streets after 9 p.m. will be arrested by the Red patrols.” But just then the Red guards sent a message to Comrade Szijgyártó that if the prisoner was not released by nine they would lay down their arms and refuse to serve any longer. People were talking excitedly in the streets, saying that the Rumanians were already in Aszód and were coming in our direction. Comrade Szijgyártó shook his fist with rage: “I ought to have had him hanged at once.” The crowd became more and more threatening and—at nine o’clock Aladár Huszár was at home. He was quite calm. Comrade Szijgyártó had run at him with raised fists, had pointed a revolver at him, and threatened to shoot him.... Suddenly we heard sobs from the end of the table. It was only then that we noticed the children. With wide open eyes, deadly pale, they were standing there and they had heard everything. When we were as small as they my mother would not allow anyone to tell us gruesome stories; but in spite of their parents the children of this age live through things which we were not even allowed to be told in fairy tales. * * * * * _August 3rd._