weep, for I bring neither joy nor glory on your
head--and yet I go! A feeling stronger than the desire of glory,
stronger than the love of my country, inspires my soul; and it is a
proof of the strength of my faith that I see your tears, my
father--and yet I go!"

"Go!" murmured his father, in a voice of despair. "You may never
return again, or, when you do, you may find neither your father's
house nor the grave in which he is laid! But know, even then, in the
hour of your death, or in the hour of mine, I do not curse you--and
now, leave me." With these words he turned away and motioned to his
son to depart.

Imre silently left the apartment, and as soon as he had closed the
door the tears streamed from his eyes; but before his sword had struck
the last step his countenance had regained its former determination,
and the fire of enthusiasm had kindled in his eye.

He then went to take leave of his Uncle Jozsef, whom he found
surrounded by his family. The twins were sitting at his feet, while
his wife was playing bo-peep with the little one, who laughed and
shouted, while his mother hid herself behind his father's armchair.

Imre's entrance interrupted the general mirth. The little boy ran over
to examine the sword and golden tassels, while the little one began to
cry in alarm at the sight of the strange dress.

"Csitt, baba!" said his mother, taking him from his father's arms;
"your cousin is going to wars, and will bring you a golden horse."

Jozsef wrung his nephew's hand. "God be with you!" he exclaimed, and
added in a lower voice, "You are the noblest of us all--you have done
well!"

They then all embraced him in turns, and Imre left them, amidst
clamors of the little ones, and proceeded to his grandmother's
apartments.

On the way, he met his Uncle Barnabas, who embraced him again and
again in silence, and then tore himself away without saying a word.

The old lady sat in her great armchair, which she seldom quitted, and
as she heard the clash of Imre's sword, she looked up and asked who
was coming.

"It is Imre!" said the fair-haired maiden, blushing, and her heart
beat quickly as she pronounced his name.

Jolanka felt that Imre was more than a brother to her, and the feeling
with which she had learnt to return his affection was warmer than even
a sister's love.

The widow lady and the cripple were also in the grandmother's
apartment; the child sat on a stool at the old lady's feet, and smiled
sadl