"But surely, my poor fellow, you do not imagine that anybody will be
mad enough to face so many armed men alone."
"I don't know, sir, but I also do not know whether you yourself may not
be alone among so many armed men, for I hear snoring among the very
guard you told off to watch the cellar."
Szilard was startled. He immediately hastened to the place indicated and
there, sure enough, he saw the sentry stretched at full length across
the cellar door. He angrily hastened to arouse him and seized the
sleeper by the arm; but all his efforts were powerless to awake the
fellow,--he might just as well have been dead.
"Try to wake the others, sir," said Juon.
The pandurs lay in long rows stretched out upon the straw in the meal
magazine.
Szilard spoke to them, first gently, then loudly, and at last angrily,
calling them by name, one after the other; but not one of them awoke. He
tore the sleepers away from their places, but they were not aware of it;
as soon as he let them go they rolled back again into their former
positions.
"What has happened?" cried the confounded Szilard.
"There must be a traitor among them, sir, a hireling of Fatia Negra; he
has his hirelings everywhere, in forests, in palaces, in dungeons, in
barracks, everywhere. And this traitor has mingled thorn-apple juice in
the drink of his comrades and they will now sleep on for a night and a
day.
Pages:
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368