tc_od1

PREFACEIt was fate that dubbed this book An Outlaw'sDiary for,it was itself outlawed at a timewhen threat of death was hanging over everyvoice that gave expression to the sufferings ofHungary. It was in hiding constantly, fleeingfrom its parental roof to lonely castles, to provincialvillas, to rustic hovels. It was in hidingin fragments, between the pages of books, underthe eaves of strange houses, up chimneys, in therecesses of cellars, behind furniture, buried inthe ground. The hands of searching detectives,the boots of Red soldiers, have passed over it.It has escaped miraculously, to stand as amemento when the graves of the victims itdescribes have fallen in, when grass has grownover the pits of its gallows, when the writingsin blood and bullets have disappeared from thewalls of its torture chambers.And now that I am able to send the bookforth in print, I am constrained to omit manyfacts and many details which as yet cannotstand the light of day, because they are thesecrets of living men. The time will comewhen that which is dumb to-day will be atliberty to raise its voice. And as some timehas now passed since I recorded, from day today, these events, much that was obscure andincomprehensible has been cleared up. Yet Iwill leave the pages unrevised, I will leave thepulsations of those hours untouched. If I havebeen in the wrong, I pray the reader's indulgence.My very errors will mirror the errors ofthose days.vii