CHAPTER FOURTEENThe Count took a hasty step nearer him, lifting his stick as if to strike him. I gasped; the peasants seemed to sway forward as one, threatening, but Lajos himself never flinched. “No,” he said. “You and I hitting each other changes nothing. They—” he flung his arm out towards the lines of peasants “—will still be there. Recognize it. Change must come from you, but we, the people, we can force it.”
Slowly, the Count’s arm fell to his side. “Insolent ingrate!” he hissed. “You dare to threaten me?”
Lajos shook his head. “No. Just listen — believe me, I am returning a favour.” Their eyes were locked together again, the Count’s full of half-bewildered rage, Lajos’s registering only a sort of fearless tolerance which he seemed to be trying to communicate to the old man.
“I kn
