"Before coming to Klausenburg, I secretly instructed the well-disposed within the town to try and bring the garrison over to our side. This morning our spies have brought us word that the infantry is ready, at the first sound of the trumpet from without, to open the gates and go over to us with bag and baggage. The cavalry by itself will be unable to offer any resistance." "My dear!" cried Apafi in astonishment, "you are really a born princess." Anna took her husband softly by the arm, led him to the daïs, and made him sit down. "The sceptre is no plaything, Apafi," said she earnestly. "Never forget that posterity will sit in judgment on princes. A ruler's every act and word may mean the ruin or the salvation of thousands. Think of that in all you do and say. And now, God be with you. Be firm!" Anna, with an exalted look, kissed the Prince on the forehead. At that very moment her eye fell on the parchment roll of the itinerant scholar. "What plan of campaign is this?" cried she, taking up the parchment. Apafi would have snatched it from her, but it was too late; Anna had already unrolled it, and after casting a rapid glance over the lickspittling pedigree, looked with an expression of overwhelming reproach at the discomfited Prince, who stood before her with downcast eyes. "Did _you_ get any one to compose it?" she softly asked. "Certainly not," replied Apafi energetically; "a shameless poet brought it to me." "Then throw it into the fire," replied his wife, much relieved. "That is just what I was going to do. I can then get rid of him with a few ducats." "A few strokes with a whip would be much more appropriate," exclaimed Anna wrathfully; but soon her features grew mild again, and steadfastly regarding her husband she said to him kindly--"Be strong! Be a prince! Protect the loyal! Forgive the repentant! Despise flatterers!" With that she curtseyed low, kissed her husband's hand, and had vanished from the tent before he could return the salute. Apafi immediately called Cserey and commanded him to re-admit the gentlemen, who were still waiting in the ante-chamber. On the countenances of the courtiers could be read, as plainly as if it were written there, the persuasion that they might now ask for and expect from the Prince anything they liked, on the presumption that the blissful antecedent domestic scene had left him in a state of mental flabbiness which could say no to nobody. Stephen Apafi was alone sufficiently sober-minded to perceive the change which had come over his brother's face in the meantime. Apafi's features now wore an expression of dignity, firmness, and energy worthy of a prince.