"That is not enough, your Highness. Once for all we must make it impossible for any dog-headed Tartar to speak such brave words before the throne of the Prince of Transylvania." "Speak to him then yourself!" Teleki thereupon, with an earnest, dignified mien, stepped up to the emir, stared him out of countenance, and said with a firm voice-- "Thy master is doubtless the ruler of Tartary, but is not my master the Prince of Transylvania? And is not the sublime Sultan the protector of us both? Know then that the sublime Sultan did not make thy master Khan of Tartary that he might dwell in Transylvania, nor has he set my master on the throne of Transylvania to endure the insolence of thy master! Go back then to thine own land, and come not hither again to wonder why a town which is burnt down one year is not built up again the next. We will take good care that all such places are rebuilt, but we will also see that the bastions are high enough to keep thee out, and shouldst thou desire to visit us at Klausenburg next year, we will also take care that thou shalt not have thy journey for nothing, and will provide guns in abundance to salute thee at a respectful distance." All this Teleki said to the emir with a perfectly serious countenance. The emir snorted with fury. His eyes grew bloodshot. His hand played with the hilt of his scimitar, and he stammered with pallid lips-- "If any of my master's servants spoke thus in his presence, he would immediately have his head struck off." But Apafi tapped Teleki on the shoulder, and murmured as he stroked his beard-- "It is well, Master Michael Teleki! You have spoken like a man." The emir turned furiously upon his heel, and, shaking the dust from his feet, left the room. This scene put Apafi in a good humour, especially with Teleki. The minister could read this change of mood in his master's face, and hastened to make use of it. Taking one of the many suitors by the hand, he presented him to Apafi with these words-- "My future son-in-law, your Highness." Apafi would probably have escaped from a presentation made in any other way; but made in this form he could not possibly avoid it. He was compelled to cast a glance upon the young man. The person so presented was a tall, handsome stripling with blooming red cheeks and no trace, as yet, of a beard. In his femininely beautiful features, it was pride alone which revealed the man. The youth pleased Apafi. "What is your son-in-law's name?" he asked Teleki. With a peculiar smile Teleki said-- "Emerich, Stephen Tököly's son." On hearing this name, Apafi suddenly became very grave, and said to the young man-- "Your father was a good friend to me"--and yet he did not extend his hand to the son. "I know it," replied the youth, "and for that reason I have come to your Highness."