a battle-field
in which the elements themselves should join, where you would stand in
the midst, high above all, like the angel of death, proclaiming
resistance to the last, in a voice which would be heard above the
battle-cry; and, when all had fallen, when there remained none to
help, you alone would snatch the victory from the enemy's hand, and
bear it with you--not to the grave, but to heaven!"

"O that I could!" sighed the cripple; "but what is my voice? it would
not be heard in battle; and my arm could snatch the victory from
none!"

"Listen to me! The victors will arrive to-day or to-morrow; but
neither repose nor enjoyment shall await them here--they shall find
every door closed, and our weapons shall be the reply to theirs. If
the men of Kezdi-Vasarhely have fallen in defence of their country,
the women shall not be unworthy of them! We shall lose--for the arm of
woman is weak, though her heart is strong--we have neither the weapons
nor the force to resist, only the will; and therefore our aim is not
victory, but an honourable death. You will go up to the tower, and
when you see the enemy approaching at a distance, ring the bell; we
will then carry out the dead to be buried, and await the hated foe
beside his grave; and wo to them if they try to enter by force, we
shall defend every house to the last--despair will teach us to fight;
and should fear or hesitation overcome our weak hearts for an instant,
the voice of your bell will revive our courage, and inspire us with
new strength. And you must not cease one moment till the combat is
over; then take the wreaths of tarred pine, which you will find in a
niche of the tower ready prepared, and when the enemy have taken
possession of the town, throw them down on the roofs of the houses!
Thus you will regain the town from the enemy, and, amidst smoke and
flames--the funeral-pile of all you love on earth--you will bear
victory along with you to heaven!"

The cripple listened with increasing agitation to Judith's words; and
when she had finished, he dashed away his crutches, and, falling at
her feet, embraced her knees, and murmured some unintelligible words;
but the enthusiasm which glowed in every feature told how the spirit
rejoiced to meet the death she had portrayed in such brilliant
colours.

"Will you have courage?" asked Judith.

"Oh! I shall rejoice in it! I shall no longer be a cripple--no longer
unhappy; I shall die like a hero! and when the flames