itizens who willingly shared
their last morsel with the national guards, after their many
vicissitudes, and days and nights of hardship and privation.

A hussar officer rode up to the widow's house. He was a handsome,
slender youth, whose raven hair and moustache formed a striking
contrast to the olive paleness of his complexion. He wore a double
gold cord on his crimson csako, and his breast was already decorated.
As he entered the house his dark eye flashed with pleasure, and all
his efforts to be serious could ill restrain a smile.

That smile betrayed him!

"Gejza!" exclaimed the widow and her daughters together; and then
there was a rush, and a mutual embrace--the first affectionate, the
next playful, and the last long and warm.

"I knew you would come," whispered Ilka, as he pressed her again and
again to his heart. "How long will you stay with us?"

"As long as we remain in Szolnok."

"And how long will that be?"

"Perhaps an hour."

"Only one hour! And when will you return?"

"Perhaps soon, perhaps--never."

Ilka clung weeping to her lover's neck, who drew her still closer to
his heart.

The other sister now approached, and gently chiding Ilka's tears, she
asked in a low, tremulous voice: "Where is Laszlo?"

"He will be here this evening, I believe."

"Why did he not come with you?"

The hussar hesitated. "I am retreating, but he is pursuing."

The colour left the young girl's cheek.

"He joined the cuirassiers," continued Gejza, "about two months ago,
and now--we are in opposite ranks."

The sisters looked at each other in consternation.

"_You_ fight against each other!" exclaimed Ilka; "my bridegroom
against my sister's!--O merciful Heaven!"

"And did you not think of us, then?" said Aniko.

"It is the soldier's fate, my friends: he may love, and be happy; but
when the trumpet sounds he must forget love and happiness, and think
only of stern duty."

"Ah, Gejza! you must not fight against each other; we must gain one of
you over to join the other."

"It cannot be, my friends; I know Laszlo well, and he is what I am. A
soldier's place is beside his standard: whereever that leads he must
follow--be it to death, or against his own brother."

"And if you should meet upon the field?"

"It nearly happened a short time ago. In the skirmish of Teteny we
were scarcely fifty paces apart, when we recognised each other. He
suddenly turned his horse's head, I did the same--we both sought
an