"Akos, my son, we are alone now," began Kuthen composedly, "speak out, and keep back nothing. You need not be afraid, for this grey head of mine has weathered many a storm before now." "Your Highness--father! if I may call you so"--said Akos, giving his hand to Mária, "there is a storm coming without doubt, for the wind is blowing from two quarters at once, and we are caught between the two." "I don't understand," said Kuthen, twanging the bowstring, while one son took a second bow down from the wall, and the other got a fresh string ready. "You will directly, sir; the Mongols are coming nearer and nearer, burning and destroying everything before them--that's the last news!" "Haven't I told the King a hundred times how it would be?" "You have, and he knows! But there are certain persons who seem to be expecting miracles; and meantime, to excuse themselves for sitting still, they have been whispering suspicions of other people. A few hours ago they went to the King and told him plainly what was in their minds." "Suspicions! whom do they suspect?" "_You_, your Highness! you and your people." "Shame!" cried Kuthen, starting from his seat, and looking Akos straight in the face. At that moment Kuthen was every inch a king, and it was easy to understand how, though he had lost his kingdom, lost his crown, nevertheless his word had been enough to induce 40,000 families to follow him to a new home. "And why do they suspect me?" he asked with angry resentment. "Why?" repeated Akos, who had also risen to his feet, and now stood erect facing the King, "because there is not a creature in this world so strong as to be able to stand up against panic!" "Is that the way you speak of your nation? and you a Magyar!" said Kuthen. "My nation!" shouted Akos, all aflame in a moment. "I should like to hear anyone dare to speak ill of my nation! No! but father, you who own such vast flocks and herds, you know that in every fold there are sure to be a few sickly sheep; and if they are scared, no matter by what, and make a rush, you know what happens, the rest of the flock follow them; not that they are frightened themselves, but because they see the others running. A dog, or the crack of a whip is enough." "And pray, what are these sick sheep bleating about to the King?" "Well, to be plain, they say that the Kunok are nothing but Oktai's vanguard. That you have come in the guise of guests to spy out the land for those who sent you--for the Tartars!" "What! I prepare the way for the robbers, who have driven us from the graves of our ancestors! who have slain our people by the thousand and made miserable slaves of others! We in league with the Tartars, our hateful foes! It is a cowardly lie! The King is too noble-hearted ever to believe such a thing! It is the talk of madmen!" "And the King does not believe it; quite the contrary, for he spoke warmly in defence of you and----" "Ah! that is like himself," interposed Kuthen.