"My friends!" cried he, ere yet he had had time to marshal their ranks. "A marauding swarm of hornets has fallen upon my castle and plundered it. They have smashed everything in my rooms, emptied my stables, stolen or destroyed my family treasures. All that troubles me little. Let the half-starved wretches eat and drink their fill! Let them keep what they have got! Let them rob, burn, and ravage if they will, poor devils! I am still the master of many mansions, and can pay off this beggarly Szekler crew out of one pocket. But they have defaced the image of my wife!--my wife I say! Therefore will I take vengeance upon them, a fearful vengeance. Follow me! The trees of the orchards of Bonczhida have not borne fruit for a long time. We will now hang fruit upon them ourselves!" The enthusiastic shouts of the squadrons proved that the host was ready to follow Banfi whithersoever he might choose to lead it. The captains marshalled their divisions, and the second flourish of trumpets had already sounded, when a company of twelve horsemen suddenly appeared in front of Banfi's host. In the foremost of this company they recognized the Prince's herald, a broad-shouldered man of gigantic stature, who boldly rode up to Banfi and his staff, and raising his escutcheoned bâton, cried--"Halt!" "Use your eyes! We _are_ halting!" retorted Michael Angel. "In the name of his Highness, the Prince, I cite you, Denis Banfi, to appear within three days before the Privy Council at Karoly-Fehervár, there to defend yourself as best you may against the charges brought against you. Till then your consort remains in our hands as a hostage for your good behaviour." "We _are_ coming," retorted Michael Angel; "don't you see that we are already about to start? We only wanted to know whither, and now we know it." "Silence, captain!" cried Banfi; "one must not jest with the Prince's ambassador." The herald next turned to the captains. "This citation does not concern you. I have a very different message to deliver to you in the Prince's name." "You had better keep your message to yourself, or I'll speak a word in your ears which will make them tingle," jeered one of the captains, aiming at the herald with his pistol. "Down with your weapons," exclaimed Banfi; "let him proclaim the Prince's mandate. Give him room that he may speak freely." The herald rose in his stirrups, and looking along the ranks cried aloud-- "The Prince forbids you from henceforth to obey Banfi! Whoever takes up weapons for him is a traitor!" "You're a traitor yourself," roared Michael Angel, and the next moment the crowd fell furiously upon the herald, with loud cries of "Kill him! kill him!" A hundred blades flashed simultaneously over his head. "Hold!" cried Banfi in a voice of thunder, covering the herald with his body; "this man's person is sacred and inviolable. To your places! Sheathe your swords! I--your leader--command it!"