My own home was continually in my mind. I could see my mother sitting alone among her household gods. I could see her walking through the rooms, touching now one thing, now another, things that remind her of my grandmother, of my great-grandmother, of old times, things that are part of her life.... She cannot write to me, nor can I write to her. I long to go to her for a day, or only for an hour.... As I said this Elisabeth Kállay looked at me: “Do you know how many of us are already in prison? Do you want to go there too?” It seemed to me that my mother’s face was leaning over me and that she repeated: “Don’t worry about me, and don’t come home till....” A carriage drove through the gate, came slowly up the drive and stopped in front of the house. A carriage in the village! The hospitable generation which lived before us saw nothing terrifying in that. But now I asked myself: “Have they come to requisition? Are they agitators, Socialist delegates, or detectives? Are they on my track?” My heart beat fast, and a plan occurred to me. I resolved that if they came for me I would escape by the other side of the house, where there is a little door under the walnut staircase, and that thence I should make for the vineyards, and over the hillock on to the main road. I was quite astonished to find how exactly I remembered every ditch, every lane, as if from the very start I had observed the country with a view to a possible escape. Then came a sound of movement and of laughter, starting under the porch and spreading all over the house. The newcomer was a friend, Baroness Apor, lady-in-waiting to the Archduchess Augusta. She brought us newspapers and news. A Vienna paper gave a long account of how Count Louis Salm had boxed the ears of Michael Károlyi in the street—the latter was in Vienna on behalf of the Revolutionary Cabinet. As he was emerging from the door of a house of doubtful reputation Count Salm ran up to him: “Take that for the Italian front, that for Hungary ...” and as the blows fell each was similarly explained. A crowd gathered round them and a cab was passing. Károlyi made desperate signs for it to stop. Then Count Salm exclaimed: “Look at him, this is Michael Károlyi who has betrayed Hungary!” The cabman swore a big oath, lashed out with his whip at Károlyi, turned his horse and drove on, while the blows were still falling hard. I wish it had been a Hungarian who had given them! Baroness Apor told us that Archduke Joseph’s palace had been occupied by the Red commander. The furniture had been carried off and ‘communised’ by the comrades.