"Leave all that to me, my boy; we old folks know more than you young ones give us credit for. No need to go either to the tribunal or to the barracks. We'll just get the good people of Bicske and Velencze to help us. The gentry in these towns fight like dragons. But in all their history there is not a single case of either having ever taken their disputes before the county courts or the provincial tribunals. For, being of noble descent, there is a tradition among them that all quarrels which arise between them shall be settled by the military officer who happens, for the time being, to be in command of the defendant's town. They are satisfied with this judgment, and never do either judge or lawyer have a fee out of their pockets." "That sounds quite patriarchal," remarked Ráby. "Now why can't we acquire just such a right among our people here?" pursued his uncle. "In a fortnight's time there will be a fair at Stuhlweissenburg. During this time I will go round and discuss the matter with the heads of the departments. You yourself can remain here in the meantime and look after my work in the post office. In Velencze they are just electing Stephen Keö, Knight of Kadarcs, as the judge. You ought to propound your plan to him. He has a fine fighting record behind him, for he went through Rákóczi's campaigns with the great leader himself, and still wears the shabby wolfskin coat in which he used to parade in the old fighting days. He is very proud of his military record, as well as of his ancestors, who came from Asia with the horsemen of Arpád himself. Remember this point; it will be an excellent passport to his good graces, and don't forget to give him his full title, and always to address him as Knight of Kadarcs. As soon as I'm ready with the legal points we'll go to Stuhlweissenburg and set our scheme afoot. Meanwhile, have no fear, we'll soon drive those brutes out of your house, my boy, and send them packing!" Ráby agreed to all of it. He was so exasperated that he positively yearned for a fight of some kind, whatever it might be. So it was arranged he should stop and look after the post office, while his uncle went to collect materials for his campaign. CHAPTER XXII. It was Stuhlweissenburg fair. In the chaffering, chattering crowd of market folk, cattle-drivers and swine-herds jostled country land-owners accompanied by their lackeys, and shepherds in gay cloaks, while gipsy horse-dealers, with their ragged coats bright with silver buttons, trotted out their prancing nags to attract possible buyers. Here and there flitted strangely clad figures--a Wallachian boyar with his sheepskin cap, or a Servian with his scarlet fez, and turbanned Turks, the remnant of the expelled Mussulman population, who had come to sell their last sheep, and then follow the rest of their folk.