CHAPTER XIX.SENT SCOUTING.As Szondi had predicted, reveille sounded before day had fairly broken, and an hour after dawn the whole army moved to the ridge of low hills outside the town of Waitzen.Here we halted, and immediately set to work making our position as strong as possible. The artillery was posted on the hills, earthworks were hastily thrown up, extra ammunition was served out, and everything prepared to give the enemy a warm reception.Most of the work was finished when Görgei's scouts came in with the information that the Russian cavalry, supported by an infantry brigade, was approaching."They're just come to have a look," said Szondi cheerfully. "They aren't likely to attack till their main body arrives."This was the general opinion, and we could hardly believe our senses when the Russians were seen preparing for an assault. I suppose it was a very gallant action, but it certainly had not the slightest chance of success from the beginning.On our side the battle was fought by the artillery, and the bravest cannot stand before a cannon-ball.Again and again the Russians charged desperately, only to be hurled back in utter confusion; and at length their leader admitted his mistake by drawing his men off altogether."So far, so good," remarked Rakoczy, with whom I spent half an hour that evening, "but we mustn't expect to win so easily to-morrow.""I thought we should probably slip away during the night.""That's possible, of course; but I fancy Görgei intends trying to hold the town. However, we shall see before long."The Russians had been so badly beaten that they made no further effort to molest us, and the night passed away peacefully.Nor did they renew the struggle in the early morning, but waited for the arrival of the main body, which had made a forced march of eight German or forty English miles in twelve hours."They make a fine show," exclaimed Szondi, as we stood on a hill with the general, watching the heads of the columns as they approached."They make stubborn fighters," growled Mizvy."Just like dogs," added another fellow: "as long as you whistle them on, they'll go."These Muscovites were indeed wonderful soldiers, and far different from our own men.The Magyars were full of fire and dash. They rushed to death with a cheer and a shout, or to the rattle of a song. When the warning blast rang out, their faces flushed, their eyes burned with a fiery glow, the hot blood sped more swiftly through their veins--they were real live human beings.On the other hand, it seemed to us, as we gazed from the hill, that there were no individual Russians--only companies, or regiments, or brigades.It was a weird sight to witness one of these regiments, compact and grey-coated, come gliding up towards the guns.As Szondi put it, one forgot the men in watching the movements of the machine.It advanced silently, steadily, and in one piece; it--not they--moved faster; suddenly a curious shiver passed through it, a curtain of smoke was spread over it, and presently you saw the one piece, only very much smaller, moving back again, leaving bits of grey lying here and there, as if chipped from the mass.Farther along, another machine, similarly constructed, was going through exactly the same performance, becoming smaller in the same manner.One such I saw more distinctly still, having carried a message from the general to the artillery chief just as it approached.The fate of that regiment was so terrible that even now I sometimes shudder at the remembrance.Like the others, it came on regularly and without noise. The great guns at my feet roared out as if in fright; the smoke cleared away, showing the grey mass diminished in size, but nearer; the guns cried out again, the smoke-cloud settled and lifted, discovering the grey mass very much smaller, but still moving nearer, until at length it reached the very muzzles of the guns, and then--well, then it simply vanished!Some parts of it doubtless returned in safety, though to me, watching from behind the cannon, it seemed as if the whole body had been swept away.Yet, although the Russians lost men so terribly, it was plain that in the end they would be able to oust us from our position, and our chief began to make arrangements for the retreat. Owing to this, I saw little more of the battle, having been sent into Waitzen by the general.Here, while our comrades held the Muscovites back, we were sending off the sick and wounded, provisions, ammunition, and the troops that could be spared from the fighting.From time to time we heard news of the combat, which grew fiercer with every hour; yet, in spite of the most furious assaults, the Magyars stood their ground."The men must hold the field till dark," was the order passed round to the different leaders; and Görgei knew that, whatever happened, it would be obeyed.During the early part of the afternoon the noise of the battle died away, but the lull was only for a time. The uproar began again, increased in volume, and came so near to us in the town that we thought the enemy had carried the defences.They had indeed got to hand-to-hand fighting, being repulsed only after a desperate encounter.How our poor fellows out there on the ridges must have prayed for the coming of night!Meanwhile, carts and wagons were rolling through the town and away into the mountainous country beyond.Once riding out with some special message to the general, I found him standing with his arms behind his back and his head bent forward, surveying the fight.The bullets were dropping around, but of these he took no notice, though two of the staff had already been seriously hurt."Lucky fellow!" remarked Szondi, as I repassed him on my way back. "You're well out of it;" and, seeing how the general was exposing himself, I thought so too.I could not see the 9th Honveds--they were somewhere on the left--but I earnestly hoped my two friends were safe.Once more the fury of the battle lessened. It was growing dusk, and even had the light lasted, neither side could have fought much longer.The Russians naturally were the more fatigued, but when the last shot was fired many of our own fellows sank down exhausted.Yet the general could grant them but small time for rest.Many, indeed, tired and hungry as they were, marched straight off the ground. All the night through, the streets of Waitzen echoed to the tramp of infantry, the rumbling of baggage-wagons, the clatter of horses' feet, and the roll of artillery.Hour after hour, while the Muscovites lay wrapped in peaceful slumber, the sad procession filed through the town, and daylight revealed to the astonished enemy only an abandoned camp.It was night before I learned anything of Rakoczy; and then, to my great joy, I discovered that both he and Dobozy were unhurt.Our position had now become practically hopeless.The allies had joined hands in the centre of the country, while our armies were scattered in all directions, and completely out of touch one with the other.Bern still battled hard in Transylvania; Dembinski was on the borders of Croatia; while we, trudging through the lower spurs of the Carpathians, were separated from both by over 100,000 veterans.Rakoczy and a few of his stamp still put on a brave show, talked cheerily to their men, and prophesied that Dembinski was about to do great things; but most of the officers privately admitted that our final defeat was certain.Görgei himself shared this view, though it did not prevent him from doing all in his power to avert the calamity."We're bound to draw the Russians after us," he said cheerfully, "and that will take them from Dembinski's shoulders. If only we can outmarch the Russians and join the Pole anywhere near Debreczin, there may still be a chance."But could we?That was a question time alone could answer.One corps was toiling hard after us through the mountains, but what was Paskewitch doing with the rest of his army?One morning, about the fifth day of the retreat, the general suddenly told me to go and find where the Russian chief was, and what he was doing."The reports of the scouts are very unsatisfactory," he said. "I can't make head or tail of them. Just find out all you can for yourself, and catch me up at Miskolcz."Taking Mecsey Sándor with me, as he knew the country much better than I did, I started immediately, being in a short time out of sight and sound of the retreating army.Knowing that Paskewitch had stopped his southward march, we concluded he would try to prevent Görgei crossing the Theiss.My best course evidently was to ride due south, questioning the country people as I passed."We shall learn something at Gyongyos," said Mecsey, "and we ought to reach there by nightfall."It was a dreary and disheartening journey. Of men we saw hardly a sign; only women and children remained in the little villages, or worked hard in the fields to save the ripening crops from destruction.These poor people could tell me nothing of the enemy. They only knew that their own men-folk were far away fighting for the land of their birth, or haply already lying at peace beneath the sod.Evening fell before we reached Gyongyos, but I resolved to push on in the gathering darkness, although Mecsey very much doubted if we could find the way.At the village of Kis-Palaty we learned that the Russians were in the neighbourhood, but whether they constituted an army or only a scouting party it was hard to tell.Here, as elsewhere, the population consisted of women and children, and a few old men who shook their heads sadly, and mumbled words that had no meaning.After a long talk with the most intelligent of the women, I came to the conclusion that the enemy were simply a cavalry detachment out scouting. Then came the question what was best to be done.It seemed equally dangerous to go or stay, and I was still turning the question over in my mind when a man on a splendid horse galloped up to the inn door.His speech told me he was a Magyar, and by his dress I judged him to be a servant in some nobleman's family.At first he glanced at us suspiciously; but, discovering I was an officer in Görgei's army, he became very friendly, and answered my questions readily enough."You cannot venture into Gyongyos," he said. "The town is filled with Russians. The general is there with his principal officers, but I hear they start for Kapolna in the morning.""Will they come this way?"The Magyar shook his head. "No," he replied; "I wish they would. It would keep them clear of my master's estate.""Is your master with our army?""Alas, no! My sweet master is a cripple, paralyzed. He never leaves the house. But why not ride there with me? The count, my master, is a great patriot, and will make you welcome.""But it might lead him into trouble.""Not at all. The Russians are not likely to pay us a visit. If they do, we can easily hide you.""And Paskewitch will march that way?""The Russian general? Yes; the highroad passes the edge of the pine-wood. You had better come. The count thinks a great deal of General Görgei, and will be delighted to see one of his officers.""You have not told me who your master is.""Count Arnim Kemeny.""Well, Mecsey," I said, "what do you think? Shall we be likely to run the count into any danger?""How? The Russians will be gone to-morrow.""Then if you will ride on," I said to the servant, "we will follow.""In one minute. I have a little business to transact first," and making a respectful bow, he went into the house."All right, Mecsey?" I asked.My servant tapped his pistol significantly. "I'm sorry for our friend if it isn't," he answered.When the count's man came out again it was quite dark, and we had some difficulty in following him over the execrable roads. It was even worse when, leaving the highway, he struck across country; but after a couple of hours' hard riding we arrived at his master's residence.We rode into the courtyard amidst the barking of numerous dogs; but the servant silenced them, and several men came running quickly to take charge of our horses.Then our guide led the way to the front of the house, and ushered us into a small room which served as an ante-chamber."I go to inform my mistress," he said, and in two or three minutes there entered the room one of the loveliest women in Hungary. She was a brunette, with a complexion so clear that the warm blood could be seen beneath the delicate skin. Her hair was beautifully wavy, her eyes were large and shaded with long, silky lashes, her lips red as a rose, her teeth glistened like pearls.She greeted me with ease and graciousness, and I knew in a moment that the welcome was a genuine one."I must apologize for my husband," she said sweetly. "He is, alas! an invalid, and I must welcome the guests of the house.""It is I who should apologize for thus intruding," I replied, "but that I see it will not be necessary. I am George Botskay, a captain in the army commanded by General Görgei. This is my servant, and we are in the neighbourhood on special duty.""Exactly," said my hostess, "and you must be in need of refreshment. Supper is almost ready, and meanwhile you would like to go to your room."Mecsey was now handed over to the care of our guide, and a servant conducted me to a bedroom, where I was able to make myself more presentable.The house was a one-storied building, very similar to my own at Gyula--built on much the same plan, but rather more extensive.After I had washed and dressed, a servant showed me to the dining-room--a fine, spacious apartment, the walls of which were hung with pictures painted by Hungarian artists.As before, the countess stepped forward, smiling, and led me to her husband."Arnim dear," said she sweetly, "this is Captain Botskay, whom a lucky chance has sent us as a guest."While she spoke, I gazed with the deepest emotion at the count.He partly sat, partly reclined in a wheeled chair drawn close to the table.He was a wonderfully handsome and athletic-looking man, with a massive, well-shaped head firmly set on broad, sturdy shoulders. His face was frank and open, his eyes smiled, though with a suggestion of sadness, his mouth was firm, his chin square and determined.I pictured him charging at the head of a squadron of horse, and thought what a magnificent cavalry leader he would make. As it happened, the poor fellow could not cross the room, could not put foot to the ground, could not move a single muscle of his legs; from the waist downwards he was practically dead. Yet he made no moan, no complaint, but once, and then it was to regret that his infirmity prevented him from joining Görgei."Forgive my apparent lack of courtesy, Captain Botskay," said he; "but I am somewhat of an invalid, and my wife kindly does the honours of the house in my stead.""I shall not readily forget madam's kindness," I replied."Nay," answered the countess, "it is we who are your debtors, since you will be able to tell my husband the truth about the war; but first we will have supper," and she rang the bell.I was certainly very hungry, and did ample justice to the good things placed before me, while the pleasure was heightened by the appearance of the table with its cloth of snowy whiteness, beautifully-cut glasses, nicely-chased silver, and tastefully-arranged flowers.This was unusual experience for a soldier in Görgei's army while on active service.It was delightful also to watch how fondly my hostess waited on her crippled husband, how swift she was to anticipate his wants, how lovingly she performed every little service--every action showing how thoroughly the invalid was centered in her heart.Then, when we rose from the table, it was her hand that guided his chair into the drawing-room; her pretty fingers that made him comfortable; her eyes that looked lovingly into his, questioning if there was aught else that could be done for him.On his part, the count worshipped this beautiful woman who thought only of him. His eyes followed her everywhere; and when, drawing forward a cosy chair, she sat down beside him, his face lit up with a smile of sweet content.Of course I was pleased to find the count was of my way of thinking, and had no sympathy with the republican party.He listened with the greatest interest to the story of the campaign, and asked several questions which showed he was not ignorant of military matters."Görgei has made a wonderful fight of it," he remarked; "but, in my opinion, he can do very little more. This Field-Marshal Paskewitch is a clever general, and, from what I hear, he has an overwhelming number of men.""That is what I wish to find out. Your man tells me they will be en route again to-morrow.""Nicholas is generally right, and in that case you will have a fine chance of obtaining your information with little risk. A quarter of a mile away the wood stretches right down to the main road. The trees are close together, and just now, of course, are in full leaf. One in particular, which we generally speak of as the Eagle's Nest, would afford you fine shelter, and from it you could see everything which passed. It will be a tedious affair, but--""Oh, that's nothing!" I exclaimed quickly. "The only thing I'm afraid of is a chance visit of the enemy to you. My horse would tell tales, and there is my man to be considered."The count looked at his wife and smiled."Do not fear for us," said she. "We have hiding-places here that would not be discovered even if they burned the house down.""The trappings of the horses can be put in one of these," added the count, "and in case of danger we can put your servant there as well.""But if they find me in the Eagle's Nest?""They will shoot you and ask no questions, so I hope you'll not be discovered."After a little further conversation it was arranged that my host's servant should call me at daybreak, and take me to the Eagle's Nest before the Russians began their march.Mecsey was to remain at the house, as he could not be of any use in the tree, and might possibly do harm by attracting attention.Having settled this matter, we sat chatting another hour, when my host said pleasantly, "Captain, I am going to play the commanding officer and order you to bed. As it is, you will have a short rest, while there is a heavy day's work in front of you. Of course, if I considered myself only, I should wish the pleasure of your company half the night.""It's very kind of you," I answered, "and really I would rather sit here and talk, but I might feel drowsy to-morrow.""And we do not wish you to fall out of the Eagle's Nest," said my hostess merrily."I fear the general would obtain little information from me afterwards."Bidding them good-night, I went to my room, and once more enjoyed the luxury of lying down in a real bed.As the count had observed, there was not much time for sleep, and a portion of that I wasted thinking of my host's terrible affliction and his wife's goodness.Then, too, I wondered how the next day's adventure would turn out, and whether Görgei had been forced to stand at bay again.At length my brain ceased working, and I fell into a sound sleep.CHAPTER XX.NEARLY CAPTURED.I seemed to have slept scarcely five minutes when a knocking at the door wakened me, and I rubbed my eyes dreamily.It was Nicholas, with the information that breakfast was ready; so, jumping out of bed, I quickly washed and dressed.In spite of the early hour, the countess had risen to see that I had a comfortable meal, and to wish me success in my enterprise.While I ate she superintended the packing of a wallet which was to bear me company to the Eagle's Nest, and for which, later in the day, I felt very grateful.After a hearty breakfast I thanked my kind hostess again, and promising, if all went well, to return at dusk, joined Nicholas, who had slung the wallet over his shoulder.The faithful Mecsey was waiting in one of the rooms through which we passed, and he begged very hard to go with me.I would have taken him gladly, but he could do no good. There was no question of fighting or even of strategy. I had simply to sit in a tree and watch.Nothing could save me if the Russians discovered I was there; if they did not, I was perfectly safe.Mecsey was shrewd enough to see the reasonableness of this, but he had attached himself so strongly to my fortunes that he hated the idea of my going into possible danger alone.He yielded at last, however, kissed my hand, and stood on the top of the steps gazing mournfully at me as I trudged off with Nicholas.The new day was breaking gloriously as we entered the wood; hundreds of songsters carolled gaily, and the undergrowth was alive with game."Your master has plenty of shooting," I remarked to my companion."Ah!" replied he, with a wise shake of the head, "the count has been a mighty hunter. But we must hurry; it will be broad daylight soon, and you must be in the Nest before then."Accordingly we walked faster, Nicholas leading me by tracks well known to him and the rest of the count's household.At last he stopped and, pointing to a giant tree, exclaimed, "There is the Eagle's Nest! Near the top you will find a snug sitting-place formed by the branches, which will give you a splendid view of the highroad."He took off the wallet, strapped it on my back, and waited to see me climb the tree.I had done little climbing for years, and the unusual exercise made my muscles ache; but I had not altogether lost my old skill, and gradually mounted to the spot which Nicholas had described. Perhaps it was a trifle less comfortable than his memory pictured, but in one matter at any rate he had been right--there was a splendid view of the route the Russians must take if they were trying to prevent Görgei from crossing the Theiss.I removed the wallet, and fastened it carefully to one of the branches; then I took out the notebook which Count Kemeny had provided, and waited.An hour passed uneventfully, and then in the west there rose up a cloud of dust, which swept towards me at a rapid pace.It was a body of cavalry--Cossack irregulars, by the look of them--mounted on shaggy, little horses and armed with long lances.I caught a glimpse as they dashed up, a fuller one as they passed beneath me; then the sand-cloud swept on to the east, and the van of the Russian army vanished in the distance.Those rough, uncouth riders formed the head of a procession that occupied all the day in filing past.It was a splendid spectacle, but my eyes grew tired of gazing at it.Provision-wagons, baggage, ammunition, and stores were followed by field-guns, large masses of infantry, hussars, lancers, and dragoons; then more guns, wagons, foot-soldiers, and cavalry in what promised to be an interminable succession.As they passed I calculated their numbers, making my entries accordingly; while, about noon, a sudden stoppage of the procession gave me a capital opportunity of investigating the interior of the wallet.The halt lasted two hours, when the march began again, and evening had fallen before the last stragglers went by.Then I put away my notebook, strapped the empty wallet to my back, and prepared to descend.I moved very slowly and with the utmost caution, as my limbs were terribly cramped, and I was half afraid of missing my footing and slipping to the bottom.However, I succeeded, and found Nicholas ready to pilot me back to the house."Your master has not been troubled by the Russians?" I asked."A friendly visit from half a dozen officers," replied he; "nothing more.""And Mecsey Sándor?""Kept in the background while they stayed."Mecsey ran out from the courtyard at my approach to make sure I had returned unhurt; but once certain of that, he became stolid as ever."Get the horses saddled," I said, before entering the house. "We shall start soon.""Not to-night, captain, surely?" cried my hostess, whom I had not noticed standing on the steps. "The count will be so disappointed. He has reckoned so much on your company this evening.""And I would very much like to stay; but in a matter of duty a soldier has no choice.""That is what Arnim feared you would say. However, you cannot go until after dinner.""It's rather a queer way of entertaining one's guest," laughed the count as we entered--"to set him on a perch all day long. I hope you have not suffered martyrdom in vain?""No. Thanks to your kindness, I can take the general the fullest particulars of the enemy's force.""And Captain Botskay wishes to go at once," said my hostess.The count sighed. "We must not keep him," he said. "His information may be of the utmost importance to the general. But you will dine before going, captain, will you not?"Now to this I readily consented, as it gave me a little further time with my host, for whom I was beginning to feel a warm friendship.After dinner I sat half an hour longer, while Mecsey got the horses ready, and then I was reluctantly compelled to say farewell."Take care of yourself," said the count, "and come and see us whenever you have a chance. We are rather lonely here.""Good-bye, Captain Botskay," said his wife; "and I hope sincerely that no harm will come to you in this cruel war."I promised to visit them again should opportunity arise, and, with a last hand-shake, joined Mecsey, who had the horses ready.Nicholas, too, came to guide us a few miles on the road, and amidst the cheers of the domestics the three of us set off.Mecsey and Nicholas were good company for each other. I rode a short distance behind them, wondering if I should find Görgei in time for my information to be of use.The night was fine, calm, and still. There was no moon, but the stars glittered in myriads overhead, serving to show the route.In those days our best roads were shocking to a stranger, but the cuts across country were simply abominable.Several times that night I escaped a nasty--perhaps fatal--accident solely through the intelligence of my horse.Having accompanied us five or six miles, and given Mecsey full directions as to the way, Nicholas pulled up, wished us farewell, and started for home."He's dreadfully afraid of leaving the count long at a time," said Mecsey. "He looks on himself as a sort of bodyguard.""He's evidently an affectionate and faithful servant. Now, if you know the road, we'll go a little faster. The horses have had a splendid rest and plenty of corn; they ought to carry us well."Of course there was always the danger of falling in with a detachment of the enemy's troops, but I thought this less likely to happen at night than in the daytime.From his own knowledge of the district, and helped by some directions from Nicholas, Mecsey found the way with little difficulty, and for several hours we rode at a brisk pace over a broad plain.Thanks to the kindness of the beautiful countess, we had plenty of provisions for man and beast, and about six o'clock we stopped for rest and breakfast.By this time I was so tired that my eyes would hardly stay open, and Mecsey pressed me to have an hour's sleep."We shall save time in the end," he urged. "The animals will be fresher for an hour's rest; in fact, they won't travel much farther without.""And what about yourself?""I had a long sleep yesterday.""Then keep a good lookout for the enemy, give the horses a feed, and call me in an hour."I lay down, drew my cloak round me, and lost consciousness almost before my head touched the ground.Mecsey wakened me, according to promise; we then ate a hurried breakfast, and started again, now in broad daylight.The brief halt had done me a world of good. I was much brighter, and felt capable of riding all day.As it chanced, however, the Russians did not give me the opportunity of trying.We had left the great plain and entered a mountainous district when Mecsey, who was in front, suddenly stopped his horse and held up a finger in warning."What is it?" I asked in a whisper, getting close to him."Soldiers!" he answered promptly. "Russians!"We were half-way through a narrow gorge, with huge limestone cliffs on either side of us, and with no way of escape but by going straight on or turning back.Mecsey's sharp ears had detected the noise made by the soldiers before they were in sight."They are behind us," I said quietly."And on our right. There must be a regiment.""Well, there's no going back, so we must keep straight on. If once we get out of the gorge they can whistle for us."Mecsey shook his head, saying, "We can try."This did not sound very promising; but Mecsey, though brave as a lion, was not the most cheerful of men."Let us go," I said. "It's our only chance."The Russian leader, unfortunately for us, was a man who knew his business; and, before the main body of his troops marched through the gorge, he had sent a detachment along the cliffs in search of a possible ambuscade.A loud shout and the discharge of many muskets proclaimed that we were discovered."Push on!" I exclaimed. "We must get through somehow."It was a poor place for fast travelling, but we went as rapidly as our horses could take us.The shouts from the cliffs were now repeated in our rear, and several bullets whistled unpleasantly about our ears.Still we kept going until Mecsey came in sight of the outlet from the gorge; then he pulled up once more with a gesture of despair.There was little need for questioning or speech of any kind; a body of grey-coated infantry was drawn across the narrow exit.Just for one moment I thought of making a dash at these stolid warriors and trying to cut my way through; but I had sufficient sense left to recognize the madness of the scheme.Without speaking, we turned and rode back in our tracks.We could now see the head of the column approaching, and I felt like a rat in a trap.The Russians, understanding how completely we were in their power, treated the matter as a rich joke, and the men on the cliffs stopped firing."Let me have the book for the general," said Mecsey, "and I will try to escape. If you surrender they won't harm you.""But what can you do?""Leave the horse and try to scale the cliffs.""All right. We'll both try. I mean Görgei to have that list. Swing yourself off. Now!"I did not like abandoning the gallant animal that had carried me through so many dangers, but there was no help for it; and, indeed, I had little time to spend in regrets.Directly the Russians saw our plan, those on the opposite cliffs discharged their muskets, while the head of the column quickened its pace.Whiz! whiz! came the bullets, singing overhead or chipping the rocks beside us--much too near in either case for comfort.At first we managed to dodge them pretty well behind the boulders, but we should soon have to move out into a more exposed position, and it did not require an extra amount of brains to foretell what would happen then.However, we were having a try for our lives, and that was more satisfactory than sitting still to be killed; but we were rapidly approaching the end of our tether.The men on the opposite cliffs could not fire now for fear of hurting their comrades, who came after us in full cry for all the world like dogs on the track of a boar.Suddenly Mecsey's foot slipped and he fell, but he was up again in an instant."Hurt?" I asked anxiously."It's nothing," he said--"nothing. Look! Look just above us! There is a hole in the rocks. If we could get inside there we might hide."I did look, and saw a huge fissure in the cliffs several yards in length and about six feet in depth.Certainly it might help us, but I hardly thought so.The soldiers would see us enter, and would follow. It was not as if they numbered only a half-dozen or so.Still, it might be worth trying for; and we pushed on recklessly, running, climbing, jumping, scrambling--any fashion, so as to get there.The Russians had been shouting and jabbering behind us, and it was much easier to understand the meaning of the bullets than of the words; but now the noise stopped, and a strong, clear voice shouted in German,--"Surrender yourselves! I pledge my word that you shall not be hurt.""Come, captain," cried Mecsey, who did not understand this offer; "here we are. In you go. It's dark at first, but you'll soon get used to it.""For the last time," cried the Russian officer; "will you surrender?"We were inside the cavern now, but I showed myself at the mouth and asked for five minutes' grace.For myself there was but one course open--to return to Görgei. Death alone could absolve me from that duty; but there was no need to sacrifice my trusty servant.Accordingly, I told him of the Russian's offer, and urged him to accept it."You will save your life," I said, "and there is really no sense in your getting killed. Let me tell the Russian officer that you surrender."Mecsey looked at me proudly. "I am a Magyar," he said, as if that settled the question.And it did with me.I urged him no more, but turned again to the enemy.They, meanwhile, by command of their leader, had halted, and were gazing at us curiously. It seemed strange to them to be called off their prey at the moment of running it to earth.The officer was well in advance, and I saw by his face that he would gladly save our lives."You will surrender?" he questioned; but I shook my head."That is stupid. You cannot escape. I shall send my men in there, and you will be-- Ach! what folly!""Many thanks for your offer," I said lightly, "but we must refuse. Now you are at liberty to fire," and I sprang back into the shadow.As far as I could judge, we were in a cavern of vast extent, having a low roof; and I began to think that, after all, we stood a good chance of escaping.It was hardly likely that a large body of soldiers would be set to search long for two runaways; and, of course, I was well aware that some of these limestone caves extended for miles into the very heart of the mountains.Had this immense rock-chamber a second outlet?I asked myself this question as we rushed over the damp, uneven floor, and a sharp exclamation of joy from Mecsey answered it.Just as the Russians entered, we made our exit by way of a narrow passage, through which a stream ran.We dashed on, followed by, perhaps, twenty of the enemy, who carried torches; the others were searching the cavern.Gradually the passage became wider, then it contracted once more, and finally opened into a second chamber, from which two passages branched.We had little time for choice. The Russians, yelling and waving their torches, were not far in our rear. Whatever we did must be done at once.Mecsey was for turning to the right; but I, pointing to the stream, said, "Where that goes we can go," which was true, but not in the sense I meant.Mecsey nodded. It was for me to give orders, for him to obey.We ran on, with the roar of the water in our ears, the yell of the enemy behind us, but in front a chance of safety.The Russians had traversed the narrow passage; they were in the second chamber. I looked back and saw their torches, some turning to the right, but the majority, unfortunately, keeping straight on our track.They were creeping nearer and nearer, while Mecsey was slackening his pace.The long ride and the absence of sleep had told upon him; he was tired; he could not keep on; surely he was stopping--had stopped. I sprang forward to catch him in case he fell, and my heart almost ceased beating.The river had taken a sudden dip downwards and disappeared. The chamber had come to an end; we were caught."We can kill three or four," said Mecsey quietly.At sight of us standing there the Russians set up a yell of triumph, waving their torches wildly; but we were not in their hands as yet."Mecsey," I said, "do you hear me?""Yes, captain.""We've come to the end of our tether, and you must give yourself up. That's not advice, but an order from your officer. The Russians will treat you kindly; and when you are set free, carry news of me to the general and to Colonel Rakoczy.""Where are you going, captain?""To Görgei or to death. I don't know which.""I am not to fight?""No. Put your weapons down, and mine."The Russian officer must have seen this performance, as I heard him calling off his men; and though I had not intended to deceive him, his mistake gave me a little extra time. This I utilized to take off my boots, a proceeding which greatly interested Mecsey; and then the Russian leader approached us."You have made a plucky attempt," he said in German, "but the luck is against you. Now, you yield yourself prisoner, and we will return together like good friends."He was a nice fellow, that Russian officer, and I learned later that his courage equalled his generosity.His German was far from good, but I understood him, and smiled.Then, with a last word of farewell to Mecsey and a friendly gesture to my courteous enemy, I jumped into the river, which disappeared beneath the rocks.Before striking the water I had filled my lungs with air, and it was well for me that I had done so.I was a strong swimmer, but strength could avail nothing in this desperate venture.The waters seized and swept me along, whither I knew not. There was a roar of thunder in my ears; my lungs felt like bursting.Once, and to my recollection only once, my head was above the water, and I took a good deep breath.The black flood caught me again and rushed on, swirling and eddying, holding me helpless as an infant in its grasp. Then, when the agony became wellnigh insupportable, I was able to breathe again, and, to my astonishment, saw the blue sky above my head.At this I tried to smile; but all was suddenly blotted out. Something seemed to take me under the shoulders, to give me a push forward, and after that I lost consciousness.
CHAPTER XIX.
SENT SCOUTING.
As Szondi had predicted, reveille sounded before day had fairly broken, and an hour after dawn the whole army moved to the ridge of low hills outside the town of Waitzen.
Here we halted, and immediately set to work making our position as strong as possible. The artillery was posted on the hills, earthworks were hastily thrown up, extra ammunition was served out, and everything prepared to give the enemy a warm reception.
Most of the work was finished when Görgei's scouts came in with the information that the Russian cavalry, supported by an infantry brigade, was approaching.
"They're just come to have a look," said Szondi cheerfully. "They aren't likely to attack till their main body arrives."
This was the general opinion, and we could hardly believe our senses when the Russians were seen preparing for an assault. I suppose it was a very gallant action, but it certainly had not the slightest chance of success from the beginning.
On our side the battle was fought by the artillery, and the bravest cannot stand before a cannon-ball.
Again and again the Russians charged desperately, only to be hurled back in utter confusion; and at length their leader admitted his mistake by drawing his men off altogether.
"So far, so good," remarked Rakoczy, with whom I spent half an hour that evening, "but we mustn't expect to win so easily to-morrow."
"I thought we should probably slip away during the night."
"That's possible, of course; but I fancy Görgei intends trying to hold the town. However, we shall see before long."
The Russians had been so badly beaten that they made no further effort to molest us, and the night passed away peacefully.
Nor did they renew the struggle in the early morning, but waited for the arrival of the main body, which had made a forced march of eight German or forty English miles in twelve hours.
"They make a fine show," exclaimed Szondi, as we stood on a hill with the general, watching the heads of the columns as they approached.
"They make stubborn fighters," growled Mizvy.
"Just like dogs," added another fellow: "as long as you whistle them on, they'll go."
These Muscovites were indeed wonderful soldiers, and far different from our own men.
The Magyars were full of fire and dash. They rushed to death with a cheer and a shout, or to the rattle of a song. When the warning blast rang out, their faces flushed, their eyes burned with a fiery glow, the hot blood sped more swiftly through their veins--they were real live human beings.
On the other hand, it seemed to us, as we gazed from the hill, that there were no individual Russians--only companies, or regiments, or brigades.
It was a weird sight to witness one of these regiments, compact and grey-coated, come gliding up towards the guns.
As Szondi put it, one forgot the men in watching the movements of the machine.
It advanced silently, steadily, and in one piece; it--not they--moved faster; suddenly a curious shiver passed through it, a curtain of smoke was spread over it, and presently you saw the one piece, only very much smaller, moving back again, leaving bits of grey lying here and there, as if chipped from the mass.
Farther along, another machine, similarly constructed, was going through exactly the same performance, becoming smaller in the same manner.
One such I saw more distinctly still, having carried a message from the general to the artillery chief just as it approached.
The fate of that regiment was so terrible that even now I sometimes shudder at the remembrance.
Like the others, it came on regularly and without noise. The great guns at my feet roared out as if in fright; the smoke cleared away, showing the grey mass diminished in size, but nearer; the guns cried out again, the smoke-cloud settled and lifted, discovering the grey mass very much smaller, but still moving nearer, until at length it reached the very muzzles of the guns, and then--well, then it simply vanished!
Some parts of it doubtless returned in safety, though to me, watching from behind the cannon, it seemed as if the whole body had been swept away.
Yet, although the Russians lost men so terribly, it was plain that in the end they would be able to oust us from our position, and our chief began to make arrangements for the retreat. Owing to this, I saw little more of the battle, having been sent into Waitzen by the general.
Here, while our comrades held the Muscovites back, we were sending off the sick and wounded, provisions, ammunition, and the troops that could be spared from the fighting.
From time to time we heard news of the combat, which grew fiercer with every hour; yet, in spite of the most furious assaults, the Magyars stood their ground.
"The men must hold the field till dark," was the order passed round to the different leaders; and Görgei knew that, whatever happened, it would be obeyed.
During the early part of the afternoon the noise of the battle died away, but the lull was only for a time. The uproar began again, increased in volume, and came so near to us in the town that we thought the enemy had carried the defences.
They had indeed got to hand-to-hand fighting, being repulsed only after a desperate encounter.
How our poor fellows out there on the ridges must have prayed for the coming of night!
Meanwhile, carts and wagons were rolling through the town and away into the mountainous country beyond.
Once riding out with some special message to the general, I found him standing with his arms behind his back and his head bent forward, surveying the fight.
The bullets were dropping around, but of these he took no notice, though two of the staff had already been seriously hurt.
"Lucky fellow!" remarked Szondi, as I repassed him on my way back. "You're well out of it;" and, seeing how the general was exposing himself, I thought so too.
I could not see the 9th Honveds--they were somewhere on the left--but I earnestly hoped my two friends were safe.
Once more the fury of the battle lessened. It was growing dusk, and even had the light lasted, neither side could have fought much longer.
The Russians naturally were the more fatigued, but when the last shot was fired many of our own fellows sank down exhausted.
Yet the general could grant them but small time for rest.
Many, indeed, tired and hungry as they were, marched straight off the ground. All the night through, the streets of Waitzen echoed to the tramp of infantry, the rumbling of baggage-wagons, the clatter of horses' feet, and the roll of artillery.
Hour after hour, while the Muscovites lay wrapped in peaceful slumber, the sad procession filed through the town, and daylight revealed to the astonished enemy only an abandoned camp.
It was night before I learned anything of Rakoczy; and then, to my great joy, I discovered that both he and Dobozy were unhurt.
Our position had now become practically hopeless.
The allies had joined hands in the centre of the country, while our armies were scattered in all directions, and completely out of touch one with the other.
Bern still battled hard in Transylvania; Dembinski was on the borders of Croatia; while we, trudging through the lower spurs of the Carpathians, were separated from both by over 100,000 veterans.
Rakoczy and a few of his stamp still put on a brave show, talked cheerily to their men, and prophesied that Dembinski was about to do great things; but most of the officers privately admitted that our final defeat was certain.
Görgei himself shared this view, though it did not prevent him from doing all in his power to avert the calamity.
"We're bound to draw the Russians after us," he said cheerfully, "and that will take them from Dembinski's shoulders. If only we can outmarch the Russians and join the Pole anywhere near Debreczin, there may still be a chance."
But could we?
That was a question time alone could answer.
One corps was toiling hard after us through the mountains, but what was Paskewitch doing with the rest of his army?
One morning, about the fifth day of the retreat, the general suddenly told me to go and find where the Russian chief was, and what he was doing.
"The reports of the scouts are very unsatisfactory," he said. "I can't make head or tail of them. Just find out all you can for yourself, and catch me up at Miskolcz."
Taking Mecsey Sándor with me, as he knew the country much better than I did, I started immediately, being in a short time out of sight and sound of the retreating army.
Knowing that Paskewitch had stopped his southward march, we concluded he would try to prevent Görgei crossing the Theiss.
My best course evidently was to ride due south, questioning the country people as I passed.
"We shall learn something at Gyongyos," said Mecsey, "and we ought to reach there by nightfall."
It was a dreary and disheartening journey. Of men we saw hardly a sign; only women and children remained in the little villages, or worked hard in the fields to save the ripening crops from destruction.
These poor people could tell me nothing of the enemy. They only knew that their own men-folk were far away fighting for the land of their birth, or haply already lying at peace beneath the sod.
Evening fell before we reached Gyongyos, but I resolved to push on in the gathering darkness, although Mecsey very much doubted if we could find the way.
At the village of Kis-Palaty we learned that the Russians were in the neighbourhood, but whether they constituted an army or only a scouting party it was hard to tell.
Here, as elsewhere, the population consisted of women and children, and a few old men who shook their heads sadly, and mumbled words that had no meaning.
After a long talk with the most intelligent of the women, I came to the conclusion that the enemy were simply a cavalry detachment out scouting. Then came the question what was best to be done.
It seemed equally dangerous to go or stay, and I was still turning the question over in my mind when a man on a splendid horse galloped up to the inn door.
His speech told me he was a Magyar, and by his dress I judged him to be a servant in some nobleman's family.
At first he glanced at us suspiciously; but, discovering I was an officer in Görgei's army, he became very friendly, and answered my questions readily enough.
"You cannot venture into Gyongyos," he said. "The town is filled with Russians. The general is there with his principal officers, but I hear they start for Kapolna in the morning."
"Will they come this way?"
The Magyar shook his head. "No," he replied; "I wish they would. It would keep them clear of my master's estate."
"Is your master with our army?"
"Alas, no! My sweet master is a cripple, paralyzed. He never leaves the house. But why not ride there with me? The count, my master, is a great patriot, and will make you welcome."
"But it might lead him into trouble."
"Not at all. The Russians are not likely to pay us a visit. If they do, we can easily hide you."
"And Paskewitch will march that way?"
"The Russian general? Yes; the highroad passes the edge of the pine-wood. You had better come. The count thinks a great deal of General Görgei, and will be delighted to see one of his officers."
"You have not told me who your master is."
"Count Arnim Kemeny."
"Well, Mecsey," I said, "what do you think? Shall we be likely to run the count into any danger?"
"How? The Russians will be gone to-morrow."
"Then if you will ride on," I said to the servant, "we will follow."
"In one minute. I have a little business to transact first," and making a respectful bow, he went into the house.
"All right, Mecsey?" I asked.
My servant tapped his pistol significantly. "I'm sorry for our friend if it isn't," he answered.
When the count's man came out again it was quite dark, and we had some difficulty in following him over the execrable roads. It was even worse when, leaving the highway, he struck across country; but after a couple of hours' hard riding we arrived at his master's residence.
We rode into the courtyard amidst the barking of numerous dogs; but the servant silenced them, and several men came running quickly to take charge of our horses.
Then our guide led the way to the front of the house, and ushered us into a small room which served as an ante-chamber.
"I go to inform my mistress," he said, and in two or three minutes there entered the room one of the loveliest women in Hungary. She was a brunette, with a complexion so clear that the warm blood could be seen beneath the delicate skin. Her hair was beautifully wavy, her eyes were large and shaded with long, silky lashes, her lips red as a rose, her teeth glistened like pearls.
She greeted me with ease and graciousness, and I knew in a moment that the welcome was a genuine one.
"I must apologize for my husband," she said sweetly. "He is, alas! an invalid, and I must welcome the guests of the house."
"It is I who should apologize for thus intruding," I replied, "but that I see it will not be necessary. I am George Botskay, a captain in the army commanded by General Görgei. This is my servant, and we are in the neighbourhood on special duty."
"Exactly," said my hostess, "and you must be in need of refreshment. Supper is almost ready, and meanwhile you would like to go to your room."
Mecsey was now handed over to the care of our guide, and a servant conducted me to a bedroom, where I was able to make myself more presentable.
The house was a one-storied building, very similar to my own at Gyula--built on much the same plan, but rather more extensive.
After I had washed and dressed, a servant showed me to the dining-room--a fine, spacious apartment, the walls of which were hung with pictures painted by Hungarian artists.
As before, the countess stepped forward, smiling, and led me to her husband.
"Arnim dear," said she sweetly, "this is Captain Botskay, whom a lucky chance has sent us as a guest."
While she spoke, I gazed with the deepest emotion at the count.
He partly sat, partly reclined in a wheeled chair drawn close to the table.
He was a wonderfully handsome and athletic-looking man, with a massive, well-shaped head firmly set on broad, sturdy shoulders. His face was frank and open, his eyes smiled, though with a suggestion of sadness, his mouth was firm, his chin square and determined.
I pictured him charging at the head of a squadron of horse, and thought what a magnificent cavalry leader he would make. As it happened, the poor fellow could not cross the room, could not put foot to the ground, could not move a single muscle of his legs; from the waist downwards he was practically dead. Yet he made no moan, no complaint, but once, and then it was to regret that his infirmity prevented him from joining Görgei.
"Forgive my apparent lack of courtesy, Captain Botskay," said he; "but I am somewhat of an invalid, and my wife kindly does the honours of the house in my stead."
"I shall not readily forget madam's kindness," I replied.
"Nay," answered the countess, "it is we who are your debtors, since you will be able to tell my husband the truth about the war; but first we will have supper," and she rang the bell.
I was certainly very hungry, and did ample justice to the good things placed before me, while the pleasure was heightened by the appearance of the table with its cloth of snowy whiteness, beautifully-cut glasses, nicely-chased silver, and tastefully-arranged flowers.
This was unusual experience for a soldier in Görgei's army while on active service.
It was delightful also to watch how fondly my hostess waited on her crippled husband, how swift she was to anticipate his wants, how lovingly she performed every little service--every action showing how thoroughly the invalid was centered in her heart.
Then, when we rose from the table, it was her hand that guided his chair into the drawing-room; her pretty fingers that made him comfortable; her eyes that looked lovingly into his, questioning if there was aught else that could be done for him.
On his part, the count worshipped this beautiful woman who thought only of him. His eyes followed her everywhere; and when, drawing forward a cosy chair, she sat down beside him, his face lit up with a smile of sweet content.
Of course I was pleased to find the count was of my way of thinking, and had no sympathy with the republican party.
He listened with the greatest interest to the story of the campaign, and asked several questions which showed he was not ignorant of military matters.
"Görgei has made a wonderful fight of it," he remarked; "but, in my opinion, he can do very little more. This Field-Marshal Paskewitch is a clever general, and, from what I hear, he has an overwhelming number of men."
"That is what I wish to find out. Your man tells me they will be en route again to-morrow."
"Nicholas is generally right, and in that case you will have a fine chance of obtaining your information with little risk. A quarter of a mile away the wood stretches right down to the main road. The trees are close together, and just now, of course, are in full leaf. One in particular, which we generally speak of as the Eagle's Nest, would afford you fine shelter, and from it you could see everything which passed. It will be a tedious affair, but--"
"Oh, that's nothing!" I exclaimed quickly. "The only thing I'm afraid of is a chance visit of the enemy to you. My horse would tell tales, and there is my man to be considered."
The count looked at his wife and smiled.
"Do not fear for us," said she. "We have hiding-places here that would not be discovered even if they burned the house down."
"The trappings of the horses can be put in one of these," added the count, "and in case of danger we can put your servant there as well."
"But if they find me in the Eagle's Nest?"
"They will shoot you and ask no questions, so I hope you'll not be discovered."
After a little further conversation it was arranged that my host's servant should call me at daybreak, and take me to the Eagle's Nest before the Russians began their march.
Mecsey was to remain at the house, as he could not be of any use in the tree, and might possibly do harm by attracting attention.
Having settled this matter, we sat chatting another hour, when my host said pleasantly, "Captain, I am going to play the commanding officer and order you to bed. As it is, you will have a short rest, while there is a heavy day's work in front of you. Of course, if I considered myself only, I should wish the pleasure of your company half the night."
"It's very kind of you," I answered, "and really I would rather sit here and talk, but I might feel drowsy to-morrow."
"And we do not wish you to fall out of the Eagle's Nest," said my hostess merrily.
"I fear the general would obtain little information from me afterwards."
Bidding them good-night, I went to my room, and once more enjoyed the luxury of lying down in a real bed.
As the count had observed, there was not much time for sleep, and a portion of that I wasted thinking of my host's terrible affliction and his wife's goodness.
Then, too, I wondered how the next day's adventure would turn out, and whether Görgei had been forced to stand at bay again.
At length my brain ceased working, and I fell into a sound sleep.
CHAPTER XX.
NEARLY CAPTURED.
I seemed to have slept scarcely five minutes when a knocking at the door wakened me, and I rubbed my eyes dreamily.
It was Nicholas, with the information that breakfast was ready; so, jumping out of bed, I quickly washed and dressed.
In spite of the early hour, the countess had risen to see that I had a comfortable meal, and to wish me success in my enterprise.
While I ate she superintended the packing of a wallet which was to bear me company to the Eagle's Nest, and for which, later in the day, I felt very grateful.
After a hearty breakfast I thanked my kind hostess again, and promising, if all went well, to return at dusk, joined Nicholas, who had slung the wallet over his shoulder.
The faithful Mecsey was waiting in one of the rooms through which we passed, and he begged very hard to go with me.
I would have taken him gladly, but he could do no good. There was no question of fighting or even of strategy. I had simply to sit in a tree and watch.
Nothing could save me if the Russians discovered I was there; if they did not, I was perfectly safe.
Mecsey was shrewd enough to see the reasonableness of this, but he had attached himself so strongly to my fortunes that he hated the idea of my going into possible danger alone.
He yielded at last, however, kissed my hand, and stood on the top of the steps gazing mournfully at me as I trudged off with Nicholas.
The new day was breaking gloriously as we entered the wood; hundreds of songsters carolled gaily, and the undergrowth was alive with game.
"Your master has plenty of shooting," I remarked to my companion.
"Ah!" replied he, with a wise shake of the head, "the count has been a mighty hunter. But we must hurry; it will be broad daylight soon, and you must be in the Nest before then."
Accordingly we walked faster, Nicholas leading me by tracks well known to him and the rest of the count's household.
At last he stopped and, pointing to a giant tree, exclaimed, "There is the Eagle's Nest! Near the top you will find a snug sitting-place formed by the branches, which will give you a splendid view of the highroad."
He took off the wallet, strapped it on my back, and waited to see me climb the tree.
I had done little climbing for years, and the unusual exercise made my muscles ache; but I had not altogether lost my old skill, and gradually mounted to the spot which Nicholas had described. Perhaps it was a trifle less comfortable than his memory pictured, but in one matter at any rate he had been right--there was a splendid view of the route the Russians must take if they were trying to prevent Görgei from crossing the Theiss.
I removed the wallet, and fastened it carefully to one of the branches; then I took out the notebook which Count Kemeny had provided, and waited.
An hour passed uneventfully, and then in the west there rose up a cloud of dust, which swept towards me at a rapid pace.
It was a body of cavalry--Cossack irregulars, by the look of them--mounted on shaggy, little horses and armed with long lances.
I caught a glimpse as they dashed up, a fuller one as they passed beneath me; then the sand-cloud swept on to the east, and the van of the Russian army vanished in the distance.
Those rough, uncouth riders formed the head of a procession that occupied all the day in filing past.
It was a splendid spectacle, but my eyes grew tired of gazing at it.
Provision-wagons, baggage, ammunition, and stores were followed by field-guns, large masses of infantry, hussars, lancers, and dragoons; then more guns, wagons, foot-soldiers, and cavalry in what promised to be an interminable succession.
As they passed I calculated their numbers, making my entries accordingly; while, about noon, a sudden stoppage of the procession gave me a capital opportunity of investigating the interior of the wallet.
The halt lasted two hours, when the march began again, and evening had fallen before the last stragglers went by.
Then I put away my notebook, strapped the empty wallet to my back, and prepared to descend.
I moved very slowly and with the utmost caution, as my limbs were terribly cramped, and I was half afraid of missing my footing and slipping to the bottom.
However, I succeeded, and found Nicholas ready to pilot me back to the house.
"Your master has not been troubled by the Russians?" I asked.
"A friendly visit from half a dozen officers," replied he; "nothing more."
"And Mecsey Sándor?"
"Kept in the background while they stayed."
Mecsey ran out from the courtyard at my approach to make sure I had returned unhurt; but once certain of that, he became stolid as ever.
"Get the horses saddled," I said, before entering the house. "We shall start soon."
"Not to-night, captain, surely?" cried my hostess, whom I had not noticed standing on the steps. "The count will be so disappointed. He has reckoned so much on your company this evening."
"And I would very much like to stay; but in a matter of duty a soldier has no choice."
"That is what Arnim feared you would say. However, you cannot go until after dinner."
"It's rather a queer way of entertaining one's guest," laughed the count as we entered--"to set him on a perch all day long. I hope you have not suffered martyrdom in vain?"
"No. Thanks to your kindness, I can take the general the fullest particulars of the enemy's force."
"And Captain Botskay wishes to go at once," said my hostess.
The count sighed. "We must not keep him," he said. "His information may be of the utmost importance to the general. But you will dine before going, captain, will you not?"
Now to this I readily consented, as it gave me a little further time with my host, for whom I was beginning to feel a warm friendship.
After dinner I sat half an hour longer, while Mecsey got the horses ready, and then I was reluctantly compelled to say farewell.
"Take care of yourself," said the count, "and come and see us whenever you have a chance. We are rather lonely here."
"Good-bye, Captain Botskay," said his wife; "and I hope sincerely that no harm will come to you in this cruel war."
I promised to visit them again should opportunity arise, and, with a last hand-shake, joined Mecsey, who had the horses ready.
Nicholas, too, came to guide us a few miles on the road, and amidst the cheers of the domestics the three of us set off.
Mecsey and Nicholas were good company for each other. I rode a short distance behind them, wondering if I should find Görgei in time for my information to be of use.
The night was fine, calm, and still. There was no moon, but the stars glittered in myriads overhead, serving to show the route.
In those days our best roads were shocking to a stranger, but the cuts across country were simply abominable.
Several times that night I escaped a nasty--perhaps fatal--accident solely through the intelligence of my horse.
Having accompanied us five or six miles, and given Mecsey full directions as to the way, Nicholas pulled up, wished us farewell, and started for home.
"He's dreadfully afraid of leaving the count long at a time," said Mecsey. "He looks on himself as a sort of bodyguard."
"He's evidently an affectionate and faithful servant. Now, if you know the road, we'll go a little faster. The horses have had a splendid rest and plenty of corn; they ought to carry us well."
Of course there was always the danger of falling in with a detachment of the enemy's troops, but I thought this less likely to happen at night than in the daytime.
From his own knowledge of the district, and helped by some directions from Nicholas, Mecsey found the way with little difficulty, and for several hours we rode at a brisk pace over a broad plain.
Thanks to the kindness of the beautiful countess, we had plenty of provisions for man and beast, and about six o'clock we stopped for rest and breakfast.
By this time I was so tired that my eyes would hardly stay open, and Mecsey pressed me to have an hour's sleep.
"We shall save time in the end," he urged. "The animals will be fresher for an hour's rest; in fact, they won't travel much farther without."
"And what about yourself?"
"I had a long sleep yesterday."
"Then keep a good lookout for the enemy, give the horses a feed, and call me in an hour."
I lay down, drew my cloak round me, and lost consciousness almost before my head touched the ground.
Mecsey wakened me, according to promise; we then ate a hurried breakfast, and started again, now in broad daylight.
The brief halt had done me a world of good. I was much brighter, and felt capable of riding all day.
As it chanced, however, the Russians did not give me the opportunity of trying.
We had left the great plain and entered a mountainous district when Mecsey, who was in front, suddenly stopped his horse and held up a finger in warning.
"What is it?" I asked in a whisper, getting close to him.
"Soldiers!" he answered promptly. "Russians!"
We were half-way through a narrow gorge, with huge limestone cliffs on either side of us, and with no way of escape but by going straight on or turning back.
Mecsey's sharp ears had detected the noise made by the soldiers before they were in sight.
"They are behind us," I said quietly.
"And on our right. There must be a regiment."
"Well, there's no going back, so we must keep straight on. If once we get out of the gorge they can whistle for us."
Mecsey shook his head, saying, "We can try."
This did not sound very promising; but Mecsey, though brave as a lion, was not the most cheerful of men.
"Let us go," I said. "It's our only chance."
The Russian leader, unfortunately for us, was a man who knew his business; and, before the main body of his troops marched through the gorge, he had sent a detachment along the cliffs in search of a possible ambuscade.
A loud shout and the discharge of many muskets proclaimed that we were discovered.
"Push on!" I exclaimed. "We must get through somehow."
It was a poor place for fast travelling, but we went as rapidly as our horses could take us.
The shouts from the cliffs were now repeated in our rear, and several bullets whistled unpleasantly about our ears.
Still we kept going until Mecsey came in sight of the outlet from the gorge; then he pulled up once more with a gesture of despair.
There was little need for questioning or speech of any kind; a body of grey-coated infantry was drawn across the narrow exit.
Just for one moment I thought of making a dash at these stolid warriors and trying to cut my way through; but I had sufficient sense left to recognize the madness of the scheme.
Without speaking, we turned and rode back in our tracks.
We could now see the head of the column approaching, and I felt like a rat in a trap.
The Russians, understanding how completely we were in their power, treated the matter as a rich joke, and the men on the cliffs stopped firing.
"Let me have the book for the general," said Mecsey, "and I will try to escape. If you surrender they won't harm you."
"But what can you do?"
"Leave the horse and try to scale the cliffs."
"All right. We'll both try. I mean Görgei to have that list. Swing yourself off. Now!"
I did not like abandoning the gallant animal that had carried me through so many dangers, but there was no help for it; and, indeed, I had little time to spend in regrets.
Directly the Russians saw our plan, those on the opposite cliffs discharged their muskets, while the head of the column quickened its pace.
Whiz! whiz! came the bullets, singing overhead or chipping the rocks beside us--much too near in either case for comfort.
At first we managed to dodge them pretty well behind the boulders, but we should soon have to move out into a more exposed position, and it did not require an extra amount of brains to foretell what would happen then.
However, we were having a try for our lives, and that was more satisfactory than sitting still to be killed; but we were rapidly approaching the end of our tether.
The men on the opposite cliffs could not fire now for fear of hurting their comrades, who came after us in full cry for all the world like dogs on the track of a boar.
Suddenly Mecsey's foot slipped and he fell, but he was up again in an instant.
"Hurt?" I asked anxiously.
"It's nothing," he said--"nothing. Look! Look just above us! There is a hole in the rocks. If we could get inside there we might hide."
I did look, and saw a huge fissure in the cliffs several yards in length and about six feet in depth.
Certainly it might help us, but I hardly thought so.
The soldiers would see us enter, and would follow. It was not as if they numbered only a half-dozen or so.
Still, it might be worth trying for; and we pushed on recklessly, running, climbing, jumping, scrambling--any fashion, so as to get there.
The Russians had been shouting and jabbering behind us, and it was much easier to understand the meaning of the bullets than of the words; but now the noise stopped, and a strong, clear voice shouted in German,--
"Surrender yourselves! I pledge my word that you shall not be hurt."
"Come, captain," cried Mecsey, who did not understand this offer; "here we are. In you go. It's dark at first, but you'll soon get used to it."
"For the last time," cried the Russian officer; "will you surrender?"
We were inside the cavern now, but I showed myself at the mouth and asked for five minutes' grace.
For myself there was but one course open--to return to Görgei. Death alone could absolve me from that duty; but there was no need to sacrifice my trusty servant.
Accordingly, I told him of the Russian's offer, and urged him to accept it.
"You will save your life," I said, "and there is really no sense in your getting killed. Let me tell the Russian officer that you surrender."
Mecsey looked at me proudly. "I am a Magyar," he said, as if that settled the question.
And it did with me.
I urged him no more, but turned again to the enemy.
They, meanwhile, by command of their leader, had halted, and were gazing at us curiously. It seemed strange to them to be called off their prey at the moment of running it to earth.
The officer was well in advance, and I saw by his face that he would gladly save our lives.
"You will surrender?" he questioned; but I shook my head.
"That is stupid. You cannot escape. I shall send my men in there, and you will be-- Ach! what folly!"
"Many thanks for your offer," I said lightly, "but we must refuse. Now you are at liberty to fire," and I sprang back into the shadow.
As far as I could judge, we were in a cavern of vast extent, having a low roof; and I began to think that, after all, we stood a good chance of escaping.
It was hardly likely that a large body of soldiers would be set to search long for two runaways; and, of course, I was well aware that some of these limestone caves extended for miles into the very heart of the mountains.
Had this immense rock-chamber a second outlet?
I asked myself this question as we rushed over the damp, uneven floor, and a sharp exclamation of joy from Mecsey answered it.
Just as the Russians entered, we made our exit by way of a narrow passage, through which a stream ran.
We dashed on, followed by, perhaps, twenty of the enemy, who carried torches; the others were searching the cavern.
Gradually the passage became wider, then it contracted once more, and finally opened into a second chamber, from which two passages branched.
We had little time for choice. The Russians, yelling and waving their torches, were not far in our rear. Whatever we did must be done at once.
Mecsey was for turning to the right; but I, pointing to the stream, said, "Where that goes we can go," which was true, but not in the sense I meant.
Mecsey nodded. It was for me to give orders, for him to obey.
We ran on, with the roar of the water in our ears, the yell of the enemy behind us, but in front a chance of safety.
The Russians had traversed the narrow passage; they were in the second chamber. I looked back and saw their torches, some turning to the right, but the majority, unfortunately, keeping straight on our track.
They were creeping nearer and nearer, while Mecsey was slackening his pace.
The long ride and the absence of sleep had told upon him; he was tired; he could not keep on; surely he was stopping--had stopped. I sprang forward to catch him in case he fell, and my heart almost ceased beating.
The river had taken a sudden dip downwards and disappeared. The chamber had come to an end; we were caught.
"We can kill three or four," said Mecsey quietly.
At sight of us standing there the Russians set up a yell of triumph, waving their torches wildly; but we were not in their hands as yet.
"Mecsey," I said, "do you hear me?"
"Yes, captain."
"We've come to the end of our tether, and you must give yourself up. That's not advice, but an order from your officer. The Russians will treat you kindly; and when you are set free, carry news of me to the general and to Colonel Rakoczy."
"Where are you going, captain?"
"To Görgei or to death. I don't know which."
"I am not to fight?"
"No. Put your weapons down, and mine."
The Russian officer must have seen this performance, as I heard him calling off his men; and though I had not intended to deceive him, his mistake gave me a little extra time. This I utilized to take off my boots, a proceeding which greatly interested Mecsey; and then the Russian leader approached us.
"You have made a plucky attempt," he said in German, "but the luck is against you. Now, you yield yourself prisoner, and we will return together like good friends."
He was a nice fellow, that Russian officer, and I learned later that his courage equalled his generosity.
His German was far from good, but I understood him, and smiled.
Then, with a last word of farewell to Mecsey and a friendly gesture to my courteous enemy, I jumped into the river, which disappeared beneath the rocks.
Before striking the water I had filled my lungs with air, and it was well for me that I had done so.
I was a strong swimmer, but strength could avail nothing in this desperate venture.
The waters seized and swept me along, whither I knew not. There was a roar of thunder in my ears; my lungs felt like bursting.
Once, and to my recollection only once, my head was above the water, and I took a good deep breath.
The black flood caught me again and rushed on, swirling and eddying, holding me helpless as an infant in its grasp. Then, when the agony became wellnigh insupportable, I was able to breathe again, and, to my astonishment, saw the blue sky above my head.
At this I tried to smile; but all was suddenly blotted out. Something seemed to take me under the shoulders, to give me a push forward, and after that I lost consciousness.