"I'll remain here even if you kill me, for 'tis a matter of life or death. When the peace of my family is at stake, I think 'tis time for me to speak. I beg, I implore you to hear me. I'll not allow you to sacrifice Banfi." Beldi was already so ashamed of this onslaught on his marital authority that he was nearly beside himself; but when his wife began to plead for Banfi, he started back as if an adder had bitten him. This did not escape Teleki, and with malicious innuendo he exclaimed-- "It seems to me that wives forget _some things_ much sooner than their husbands." Quick as lightning the dart pierced through Beldi's soul. The recollection of that kiss came back to him. Pale and speechless, he seized his wife's arm; her loud sobs only inflamed his jealousy, and dragging her to the tapestried door, he pushed her out and closed it behind her. There she remained, lying on the threshold, loudly cursing the Prince's minister, and hammering at the closed door with her fists. Beldi, pale as death, sat down at the table, gnashed his teeth, and whispered huskily-- "Where's the document?" Teleki spread out the parchment roll before him on the table. Beldi took up his pen without a word, and wrote his name in a bold hand beneath that of Michael Apafi. A triumphant smile played around Teleki's lips. No sooner was the deed done than something in Beldi's breast began to accuse him. Resting his hand on the document, he turned with a very grave face towards Teleki. "I expressly stipulate," he murmured, in a hollow voice, "that if Banfi be arrested, right and justice shall be done to him, according to the law of the land." "Quite so! Of course!" returned the Prince's counsellor, making a snatch at the document. Still Beldi would not let it go. "Sir," said he, "promise me that you will not secretly assassinate Banfi; but that when once he is arrested you will proceed against him before the proper Court of Justice, and in the usual, legitimate way. If you don't guarantee me that, I'll tear this parchment to pieces and throw it into the fire, together with my own and the Prince's signatures." "I promise it to you on my word of honour," replied the minister, inwardly smiling at the man who was so weak so long as he stood upright, and made such a brave show of firmness when he had already fallen. That same day Teleki hastened with the subscribed league to Ladislaus Csaky, and from him to Haller, and from him to the Bethlens. As soon as they saw Beldi's name, they signed the document without more ado, for all of them hated Banfi. In every case the wives intervened. Terrible scenes took place. Nowhere did Teleki escape scot-free. But the league was successfully carried through, and that was, after all, the main thing. And thus it was that Transylvania dug her own grave. CHAPTER IX. CONSORT AND CONCUBINE.