No royal banquet could have been more delicious than that hunch of dry bread seemed to him, and something in the beggar boy's heart cheered him more than even the best Tokay would have done. "Miska,[5] you're a man!" he said to himself. "I shall soon be in Visegrád, where I shall feast like a lord. I don't know how it is, but I declare I feel better satisfied with this bit of bread than if I had eaten a whole yard of sausage." [Footnote 5: Short for Mihály = Michael.] But Visegrád was still a long way off--long, that is, when the journey had to be made on foot; for the castle stood on a hill on the Danube, just where the river makes a sudden bend to the south. On the hillside, under the wing of the old fortress, stood a palace built by one of the former kings of Hungary, which is said to have been equal in splendour to Versailles or any other of the most magnificent palaces of Europe; for with its three hundred and fifty rooms it could accommodate two kings, several foreign dukes and marquises, with their respective suites, all at the same time. The floor of the great hall was paved with valuable mosaics, the ceiling was adorned with Italian frescoes, and the gardens, with their musical fountains, brilliant flower-beds, and marble statues, were declared to be a faithful imitation of the hanging gardens of Babylon! But Miska's business was with the castle, not the palace; and at last, after a journey which was becoming every hour more and more wearisome, he beheld it rising before him in the distance. It looked, indeed, as if it were but a little way off, so clear was the air; but Miska had lived an out-of-door life too long to be easily deceived in such matters, and he took advantage of the next little wayside inn to buy more bread and get another draught of cool water to help him on his way. By the time he reached the hill his strength was failing fast, and it was all that he could do to drag himself up past Robert-Charles's palace to the high-perched castle. When at last he had been admitted and had given the letter into the governor's own hands, he dropped down in a fainting fit, and was carried off to the stables. He was not long in coming to himself, however, and as soon as he was sufficiently recovered he had a feast "fit for a king," as he said; though he steadily refused to touch a drop of the wine which was brought to him. The whole time he was eating he kept his eyes fixed on the beautiful horses, wondering which one he should have to ride; and more than once he sent an urgent message to the governor, begging him to let him have the answer to the letter which he was to take to Buda. "All in good time," said the governor placidly. "He shall be called presently, tell him, when it is time for him to start."