"Never fear," returned Rideghváry; "we shall see ourselves revenged in good time--though the heavens fall. We will turn all Hungary into such a scene of mourning as will live in the memory of three generations. For the next ten years black shall be the fashionable colour to wear. I hate my country, every blade of grass that grows in its soil, every infant at its mother's breast. And now you know me as I know you. Whenever we have need of each other's aid, we shall not fail to lend it." So saying, he took his hat and departed without bowing to any one in the room. Sister Remigia, as in duty bound, sought to administer spiritual consolation and advice to Alfonsine. "Throw yourself in your affliction on Heaven's mercy," said she with unction, "and God will not fail to strengthen and console you." Alfonsine turned upon her with a wild look. "I ask nothing of Heaven's mercy," she retorted; "I have ceased to pray." The nun folded her hands piously and sought to soothe the passionate young woman. "Remember," she urged, "that you are still a Christian." "I am a Christian no longer," returned the other. "I am a woman no longer. Just as there are creatures on earth who cease to be women, call themselves nuns, and do nothing but pray, so there are others that cease to be women and do nothing but curse--or worse if they can." Sister Remigia, shocked by these impious words, which it was sacrilege even to listen to, gathered up her cloak and hastened to depart, motioning to Edith to follow. But Alfonsine barred the young girl's way and held her back. "You are not to return to the convent," said she; "you will stay here with us." The pious nun did not stop to remonstrate. She was only too glad to escape from the house. "Do you know why I have kept you?" asked Alfonsine, when the other had gone. "I have kept you in order that I may whisper in your ear every night, when you lie down to sleep: 'I will kill him. The man you love has murdered the man whom I love, and the murderer must die.' You shall taste the despair that embitters my heart. You shall not be happy while I am miserable." She threw herself into an armchair, weeping passionately, and Edith sought her old room. CHAPTER XXIII. A DUEL BETWEEN BROTHERS. A whole nation's gaze was turned toward the fortress of Buda. There it stood, weak when it came to self-defence, yet capable of working fearful destruction in case of attack. From the summits of the surrounding mountains one could overlook Buda and examine its interior as if it had been an open book. Old brick walls formed its sole fortifications, with no outworks of any sort.