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Updated: May 20, 2025
Barnabas rushed from the room like a maddened tiger, while Jozsef, retiring cautiously behind the embrasure of the window, aimed his gun as they were placing his uncle's head upon a spike, and shot the first who raised it. Another seized it, and the next instant he, too, fell to the earth; another and another, as many as attempted to raise the head, till, finally, none dared approach.
"What is that noise?" cried Jozsef Bardy, springing from his bed, and rushing to the window. "The Olahok!"* cried a hussar, who had rushed to his master's apartments on hearing the sounds. * Olah, Wallachian ok, plural. "The Olah! the Olah!" was echoed through the corridors by the terrified servants.
The iron gate was locked and the windows barred, when suddenly the sound of demoniac cries roused the slumberers from their dreams. "What is that noise?" cried Jozsef Bardy, springing from his bed, and rushing to the window. "The Olahok!" cried a hussar, who had rushed to his master's apartments on hearing the sounds.
Barnabas, seizing his club, hurried in the direction of the sounds; he met his brother on the stairs, who had likewise heard the cry, and hastened thither with his gun in his hand, accompanied by the widow. "Go, sister!" said Jozsef, "take my wife and children to the attics; we will try to guard the staircase step by step. Kiss them all for me.
"The Olah! the Olah!" was echoed through the corridors by the terrified servants. By the light of a few torches, a hideous crowd was seen before the windows, armed with scythes and axes, which they were brandishing with fearful menaces. "Lock all the doors!" cried Jozsef Bardy, with calm presence of mind. "Barricade the great entrance, and take the ladies and children to the back rooms.
"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!"
Opposite to them there sat two gentlemen. One of them was the husband of the young mother, Jozsef Bardy a handsome man of about thirty-five, with regular features, and black hair and beard; a constant smile beamed on his gay countenance, while he playfully addressed his little son and gentle wife across the table. The other was his brother, Barnabas a man of herculean form and strength.
Barnabas, seizing his club, hurried in the direction of the sounds; he met his brother on the stairs, who had likewise heard the cry, and hastened thither with his gun in his hand, accompanied by the widow. "Go, sister!" said Jozsef, "take my wife and children to the attics; we will try to guard the staircase step by step. Kiss them all for me.
I cannot let you fire," exclaimed the old man, endeavoring to drag Jozsef from the window. "You must not fire yet only remain quiet." "Go to the hurricane, old man! would you have us use holy water against a shower of stones?" At that instant several large stones were dashed through the windows, breaking the furniture against which they fell. "Only wait," said Simon, "until I speak with them.
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.
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