CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHTApril turned into May, and the mood of triumph and optimism continued at Vanora, even after the news had come about Dragos.
Ioan Dragos, the Romanian Deputy whom I had met in Debrecen, had been Kossuth’s chosen commissioner of peace to Avram Iancu. How their talks would have turned out, we shall never know, for although they negotiated in Abrud under a cease-fire agreement, the Hungarians had broken the truce and stormed the town in the grandiose hope of capturing Iancu himself.
I was appalled. “Did they succeed?” I demanded, even as I searched Lajos’s eyes for the answer.
He shook his head tiredly. “No. Not that it matters much, the Romanians repelled them. But then Iancu’s men decided that Dragos was part of the plot, and executed him without bothering to ask questi
