The further he withdrew from the seat of his power, the more anxious he became. His soul wavered. He began to see phantoms at every step. Only his pride prevented him from turning back again. Everything now wore a different aspect. He could read in the looks and salutations of all whom he met what they thought of him. A smile was a sign of compassion; a mere nod, a token of ill-will. He stopped to speak to every one, even to very slight acquaintances, even to those whom he had hitherto looked down upon or had never regarded at all. He even condescended to question them. In the hour of misfortune it is wonderful how a man recollects all his acquaintances. At such a time he who once haughtily rejected the hand of friendship is ready to meet his very enemy half-way. Suddenly he perceived an open carriage coming towards him from Torda, and in it sat a man wrapped up in a grey cloak, in whom, as he passed, Banfi recognized Martin Kuncz, the Unitarian bishop; he called to him to stop for a moment. The bishop, not hearing him for the clatter of the wheels, simply doffed his hat and drove on. Banfi thought he did it on purpose, and took it for a very bad omen. He who ordinarily treated all danger so lightly, now recoiled before the veriest bugbears. He stopped his carriage, and taking horse bade his coachman drive on to Torda and await him there. In the meantime he galloped after the bishop's carriage, whereupon the bishop, catching sight of him, stopped and awaited the magnate, who cried to him from a distance-- "So you will not answer when I speak to you, eh?" "I am at your lordship's command. I did not know that you wished to speak to me." "You know my situation, I suppose? What do you think of it? What ought I to do?" "In such a case, my lord, it is as difficult to give advice as to take it." "I have resolved to appear to the citation." "Really, my lord?" "I have nothing to fear. I feel that my cause is just." "No doubt; but it does not follow that you will get justice because your cause is just. In this world anything is possible." Banfi understood the allusion. He had formerly said the very same words to the bishop, and now he had not even sufficient strength of mind to leave him and go on his way defiantly; on the contrary, he dallied with him for some time longer. "The Prince indeed is my enemy; but the Princess has always defended me, and I have every confidence in her Highness." "Yes; but unfortunately the Prince has quarrelled with his consort. They say that he even forbids her to enter his apartments." This answer seemed to quite confound Banfi; but he had still one hope left. "I don't believe they'd dare to do me mischief, for they know that at Klausenburg and Somlyo I have armies in battle array which can call them to account at any moment." "Oh, my lord, it is difficult to direct an army from the walls of a prison, and you know very well that a live dog is stronger than a dead lion."