Father Roger paused, perhaps from weariness; perhaps because it was never his way to speak evil of any if it could be avoided.
"Don't let us judge him," he went on. "The poor wretch had seen enough to terrify a bolder man than he. He went to the Khan and advised him what to do, and Batu gave him a valuable Tartar sword, and a splendid horse in return."
Father Roger explained that among the prisoners there were many monks and others able to write, and that some of these were "compelled" by Batu to draw up and make copies of a proclamation in the King's name. Every copy was sealed with the King's seal, and they were distributed broadcast over the country. He had seen more than one copy himself, and more than once he had been called upon to read it to those who were unable to read for themselves.
This was how the proclamation ran: "Fear not the savage fury of the dogs! and do not dare to fly from your homes. We were somewhat over hasty indeed in abandoning the camp and our tents, but by the mercy of God we hope to renew the war valiantly before long, and to regain all that we have lost. Pray diligently therefore to the all-merciful God that He may grant us the heads of our enemies."
There was nothing of the Mongol about this, and any lingering doubts were, dispelled by the sight of the King's seal. The result was what the Mongols hoped for. In places which had not yet been harried and ravaged the population remained, while many refugees returned to their farms.
"But the traitor!" interrupted Orsolya, "what of him? Where is he? If there is such a thing as justice----"
"He was made one of the hundred chief magistrates," said Father Roger quietly, "and one day when he was in Nagyvárad, after my return, he recognised me and offered to take me into his service. He could protect me better, he said."
"But his name! Who is he? One ought to know who are traitors! Where had you known him before?" persisted Orsolya.
"At Master Stephen Szirmay's! He was one of his pages. His name was Libor."
Dora and Talabor both uttered an exclamation.
"He lived with my nephew Stephen! and he could turn traitor!" cried Aunt Orsolya in horror.
"Yes, dear lady, he was not the only Magyar to do so! But there were not many, no! indeed there were not many."