Apafi was brought almost to his wits' ends before he could make the Pasha comprehend that it was not usual to correspond in this style with free Hungarian noblemen. At last the Pasha allowed him to write his letter in his own way, but took care that its purport should be emphatic and dictatorial. As soon as Apafi had written the letters, Ali Pasha put a Ciaus on horseback, and sent him off at full speed to all those to whom the writ was addressed. "And now," said Apafi to himself, sighing deeply as he wiped his pen, "and now I should like to see the man who could tell me what will come of it all!" "Till the Diet assembles," said the Pasha, "you will remain here as my guest." "Cannot I go home then to my wife and child?" asked Apafi, with a beating heart. "To give us the slip, eh? A likely tale. That is always the way with you Hungarian nobles. Those we won't have at any price are always dangling about our necks, and begging and praying for the princely diadem; and those we would place on the throne take to their heels as if we were going to impale them." And with that the Pasha assigned Apafi a tent and dismissed him, at the same time giving secret but strict orders to the guard of honour stationed at the door of the new Prince, not to lose sight of him for an instant. "I'm nicely in for it now," sighed Apafi with the resignation of despair. His solitary hope now was, that the deputies whom he had summoned would ignore his informal mandate by failing to appear. * * * * * A few days afterwards, as Apafi still lay on his camp bedstead in the early morning, Stephen Kun, John Daczo, and Stephen Nalaczi, with all the other noble Szeklers to whom the circular had been sent, suddenly walked into his tent. "In Heaven's name!" cried Apafi, starting up, "why have you come hither?" "Your Highness ordered us to come hither," replied Nalaczi. "True; but you would have shown far greater wisdom if you had kept away. What are you going to do?" "Solemnly install your Highness, and, if need be, defend you also in the good old Szekler fashion," replied Stephen Kun. "You are too few for that, my brothers," objected Apafi. "Pray be so good as to cast a glance outside the tent!" replied Nalaczi, drawing aside the curtain and pointing to a band of Szeklers armed with sabres and lances, who had remained outside the tent. "We have marched out _cum gentibus_, to prove to your Highness that if we have accepted you as our Prince, we have not done so simply by way of a jest." Apafi shrugged his shoulders and began to draw on his boots; but he was so dazed all the while, that almost an hour elapsed before he was half dressed. He put on every article of clothing the wrong way, and had to take it off again. Thus, for example, he had slipped into his mantle before he even thought of his vest. Several hundred gentlemen had met together in Selyk at his bidding, a thing he had never expected, still less desired.