The baroness rose to her feet. Tears coursed down her cheeks. "Go, then," she cried, "whither your obstinate will leads you. Leave us here in despair and in tears. But know that, though two of my sons are likely to die on the scaffold, I shall not mourn those that are taken, but the one that is left." At these hard words Jenő looked with a gentle smile at the speaker. "Mother," said he, "remember that my last words to you were, 'I love you.' Farewell!" And he was gone. The contents of his letter were as follows: "HERR COMMISSARY-GENERAL EUGEN VON BARADLAY:--You are hereby summoned before the military tribunal in Pest." The judge-advocate's signature followed. By a slight mistake in translation, "Ödön" had been rendered in German by "Eugen" instead of "Edmund." Such mistakes were not uncommon in those days. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SUMMONS ANSWERED. In two weeks Jenő's case came up for trial. Meanwhile the prosecution had been busy collecting evidence of the rebel commissary-general's guilt. "Are you Eugen Baradlay?" asked the judge-advocate. "I am." "Are you married?" "I have a wife and two children." "Were you commissary-general of the rebel forces?" "I was." "Are you the same Eugen Baradlay that drove the administrator from his chair as presiding officer in your county assembly?" "The same." "Did you appear during the March uprising at the head of the Hungarian deputation that was sent to Vienna, and did you there address the people in language calculated to stir them to rebellion?" "I cannot deny it." "Do you recognise these words as having been spoken by you at that time?" The judge-advocate handed him a sheet of paper covered with pencilled writing in a woman's hand. Jenő had good cause to remember the contents of the sheet, and to recognise the writing. Had he not seen Alfonsine taking down the orator's words on that well-remembered night when they both paused to listen to his brother's eloquence? She had rested her portfolio against his shoulder while she wrote down the most striking portions of the address--for her scrap-book. "Yes," said he, returning the paper, "those were my words." The judges consulted together. The prompt and positive acknowledgment of the last charge was more than they had expected; the accused need not have committed himself. The examination was resumed. "A brother of yours, a hussar officer, deserted with his men. Did you use your influence to persuade him to that course?" So it was not known who had actually persuaded Richard to lead his men into Hungary; or were they intentionally heaping all the blame on his head to make his condemnation the surer? He hastened to reply: "Yes, it was I who did it." He answered so eagerly as to excite some surprise. "Have you not another brother,--Edmund or Jenő?" "Yes; 'Jenő' in Hungarian, 'Edmund' in German."