And yet she seemed quite calm, and on one occasion she even laughed, with her own hearty laughter. We talked of all sorts of things, except the fact that I should no longer be with them on the morrow. The children seemed quite happy, chattering among themselves in a corner. The hours passed so happily for me that now and then I had the illusion that the old times had returned for a moment before disappearing for ever. One or the other would say: “At most it can last a week or two.” Or again: “Colonel Vyx has been locked up and an English officer has been assaulted in the street. Insults of this kind will surely not be taken lying down by the Great Powers. It is impossible that the Entente should suffer the establishment of Bolshevism in Hungary. She knew how to send ultimatums demanding lines of demarcation, so that the Roumanians and her other friends could loot at leisure, now she is sure to display more energy when her own interests are at stake.” “Let us put no hope in anybody but ourselves,” said my brother-in-law. “It was the Entente who brought us to this.” One of my nephews said: “That is the reason why so many people are rather pleased that the Communists display hostility to the Entente. Who knows, perhaps our territorial integrity....” “Don’t expect any good from these people,” I interrupted. “Among the apostles of Communism there may be some idealists, but those who apply it practically are all scoundrels. It is impossible, man cannot withstand nature.” Suddenly someone asked if I had decided where I was going to. Should I accept the Kállay’s invitation, or should I attempt to get across the river Ipoly to Pressburg and thence into foreign territory? “Do the Kállays realise what this invitation means in these days?” “You must not accept it otherwise,” my mother said. “Wherever you go, you must mislead those who are after you,” said my brother-in-law. “Write a letter and have it posted in another part of the country.” My mother rose: “It is time to go.” My heart stopped beating. But she held her head high and there were no tears in her eyes. Only when leading her down the stairs did I feel that she leaned more heavily on me than she used to. Who will lead her when I am gone? My nephew, Alexander Eperjessy, took her home. I asked him to occupy my room and stay with my mother, otherwise I should not be able to tear myself away. “Don’t worry about me,” mother said; “and don’t you come back till you can do so openly and without danger.”