Everyone who had recently seen the old man apparently on the verge of the grave, and now beheld him completely changed, going about with a lively irritable temper and rosy cheeks, were amazed at this wonder-doctor who could perform cures by the mere touch of his finger-tips. "He must be a magician!" said they. * * * * * The unknown next presented himself at the residence of General Vértessy. They told him this was not the official hour for being received; at such times the General was wont to be with his wife. He replied: "So much the better; what I have to tell him will be better told in the presence of his wife." The General was informed of this odd wish, and took to the idea so kindly that he ordered the young man to be instantly admitted. And, in a few moments, a handsome, courtly youth stood before him, who greeted the General frankly and the General's wife ceremoniously. In his hands he carried a small forage-cap with a border of thin gold thread round it, and his whole style and bearing testified to the fact that, somewhere or other, he had been brought up as a soldier. "I beg your pardon, General, for disturbing you so unconscionably, and robbing you of your most precious moments, but the business on which I have come admits of no delay. My name is Count Kamienszky, I come from Poland, and I bring a petition in favour of young Hétfalusy, who deserted in the belief that he had shot his captain." The General's face grew suddenly cold. He had become a cast-iron statue, just as he was wont to be when on parade. "From whom is your petition?" "From the very officer for whom his bullet was intended. That bullet did not strike home, but stuck fast in his laced jacket; yet it was well aimed too at thirty paces, just in the middle of the heart." "And what does the officer want?" "Pardon for the deserter. He admits that he was in the wrong. He insulted a woman--I speak with absolute certainty, for I am that woman's relation--and he would now make good his fault by imploring pardon for the man who stood forth to wipe out that insult." "To implore pardon is not enough. What can he say in the man's defence?" "He certifies that the youth was a pattern of soldierly honour, valour, and discipline, that his comrades idolized him, his superiors liked him, and they now unanimously unite in this petition for his pardon. I have brought letters with me to prove all that I say; be so good as to peruse them!" The General took the letters and read them through. He discovered more than one old comrade, more than one dear friend among the names written there. The young man had spoken the truth. But what was the use of it all. The claims of duty only became the more urgent. "Sir," said the General coldly, folding up the letters again and placing them on the table, "I gather from your manner and bearing that you were brought up as a soldier."