He was called up for military service when war broke out. For a time he cleverly managed to postpone joining his regiment and then for a while he shirked in various orderly-rooms behind the front. Later on he surrendered to the Russians, and when the Revolution broke out there a sudden change took place in the demeanour of this Jew boy, who till then had been rude and overbearing with his subordinates and cringing to his superiors. He quickly rose above the others. Soon he was seen recruiting for the Red army among the Hungarian prisoners of war. He used threats and every conceivable pressure. The Jewish Czars restored his freedom, and in astonishing proof of racial solidarity, the insignificant little Jew of Nyiregyháza became a commander in the Russo-Jewish army of the Soviet. And then, at last, it seems, he gave the rein to his long-nursed hatred: he ordered the slaughter of ninety-two Hungarian officers, prisoners of war. Last year, in November, he came ‘home,’ and soon after met Károlyi at Béla Kun’s quarters. Henceforth the two met often, and it was under Károlyi’s protection that he proclaimed at Communist meetings: “Death to the Bourgeois!” On the eve of March 22nd he was already Assistant Commissary for War: now he has become President of the Revolutionary Tribunals. Before he left Budapest for General Headquarters he was sitting one afternoon in the window of Budapest’s smartest confectioner’s and was looking out on the square. Several people who were close by heard him say: “I am going to build a guillotine on this square. So many bourgeois must be killed that the tumbrils will have to drive through pools of their blood.” Somebody who had been to Budapest told me that Számuelly was surrounded by terrorist guards, that his special train was provided with machine-guns, and that an executioner always travelled with him. In the Journalist’s Club, the revolutionary ‘Otthon,’ the once obscure reporter, has become the most important personage among the journalist representatives of his race. One of the most prominent among them, Alexander Bródy, is said to have embraced him at a champagne supper and to have hailed him as “Our prophet!”