At these words Kamienszka leaped from her horse, and ran to the child who was quite worn out. Her little feet were all wounded and bloody, it was only by leaning on the arm of Zudár that she was able to walk at all. The headsman recognised at once the youth who had brought a blessing on his house, although he had now quite another figure. Now he had come to fight. Zudár stooped down and kissed his hand. He said, too, that his own hands were now pure, for he had washed them in blood, the shedding whereof was pleasing to God. The officer in command had a rough litter made from the branches of trees, on which they placed the exhausted little girl. Four soldiers were then told off to carry it, and then the little band resumed its march. Elise could not have been in a place of greater safety. Meanwhile, the Leather-bell was giving a full account of the horrors that had taken place around the castle from the evening to the morning. He had left the place just as Széphalmi and the doctor had fallen into the hands of the mob. Imré was beside himself with horror. "I must hasten to save my father or die with him," he murmured bitterly. The officer wanted him to wait so that they might all reach the castle together, but he would not listen. He was quite ready to face the danger single-handed. But indeed he was not alone. He had beside him his valiant comrade, in love a true woman, in trouble a true man, and she would not be parted from him. "Courage and hope!" she cried, pressing his hand, and with that the heroic couple spurred their horses along the grass-grown road. * * * * * With the fall of Numa Pompilius the last vestige of discipline disappeared from the ranks of the rioters. The loss of their leader, so far from bringing them to reason, only made them desperate. Bodza had died at their very feet after half an hour of the most excruciating torments, and, meanwhile, there mingled with the crowd numbers of wailing women, each of whom already had their dead at home, and spread sorrow and confusion wherever they went. Then everybody lost his head, and was frightened into bestial ferocity. The dying lay about in the road with none to care for them. Fathers no longer owned their sons, brother had no compassion for brother. And the gentry had to pay for all this panic terror. The people had been brought up in such a way that its first thought on breaking out of its cage was to tear its masters in pieces. It listened no longer to any word of command, only the latest whim obtained a hearing. Stubbly Hanák hit upon a hideous idea. "What are those three bigwigs lounging about here for, eh?" he cried. "Let them go and dig graves, let them dig their own graves!"