CHAPTER XI.GÖRGEI TO THE RESCUE.The noise of the battle died away as we left the town and made for the field where the 9th Honveds were resting after their exertions. As usual they had been pretty roughly handled; but Görgei had found time to thank them for their bravery, and that paid for everything.Some were eating and drinking; others, wrapped in their bundas, were already fast asleep. The colonel was just returning from visiting the wounded."Hallo!" he exclaimed; "what are you doing here? Thought you were at Tisza-Fured. Who are those fellows?""They've just come from hospital to rejoin their regiments. I thought perhaps you'd tell me what to do with them.""All right. I'll attend to it.--Glad to see you, Dobozy.--A little bit too late for the fight, Thurzo. We've had another turn at our old friend Schlick. Hot while it lasted; but we carried too many guns for him. Plucky chap, though. I'd invite you into my tent if I had one; but you can take your choice of the ground--there's plenty to choose from.--Any of my fellows amongst that lot, Botskay? Thanks. Let them stand out.--Back again, my lads? Good-luck to you.--Now, George, come along and we'll dispose of the others; they look as if they want a rest."The colonel rattled on in his lively strain, passed the men on to the proper authorities, stopped here and there to joke with his friends, and then took me back to the regiment, where we joined the other officers at their evening meal."Yes," he said cheerfully, in answer to some remark, "things are shaping well at present. If only Görgei had a free hand, the white-coats would soon be bundling out of Pesth."This seemed to be the general opinion, though here and there one heard a word in praise of Vetter, and even of Dembinski, the late chief.It was the second day after the affair at Hatvan when Stephen rode up to the quarters of the 9th Honveds."I expected to find you here," he exclaimed cheerfully. "Feel all right again?""Thanks, old chap; I'm as well as ever. As for you, this soldiering seems to suit you perfectly. Haven't seen you look so smiling for ages."He actually laughed. "Not heard the news? Well, it will be known in an hour or two. Vetter's resigned, and Görgei has been made chief.""Then we can begin to pack up?""Yes. There won't be much rest for any one till we're in Pesth.""And not much then.""No. Of course, I don't claim to be in the general's secrets, but I know him well enough to feel sure he won't stop till we get to Vienna. By the way, that reminds me of a queer circumstance. Do you remember Von Theyer?"I nodded briskly."He's turned imperialist, and is either a captain or major in the hussars. The fellow made a dead set at me the other day, and I should advise you to be careful."Thereupon I related what had happened at Kapolna, upon which Stephen repeated his warning more seriously, saying that in Von Theyer I had, no doubt, a special and determined enemy."If possible, he will do you mischief," he continued; "so be on your guard. Plainly he is a very clever fellow, or he would not so easily have hoodwinked the authorities, and he has courage enough for anything.""Yes, he makes a dashing cavalry leader; but why should he be so bitter against us? We haven't harmed the fellow."Stephen smiled, and made almost the same remark as Rakoczy at Kapolna."Have you forgotten the fräulein?" he asked. "No, I see you have not by the blush on your face. Well, my boy, Von Theyer wants to keep the fräulein's favours for himself. Understand?"I nodded lightly, and Rakoczy coming up at the moment, the talk took a fresh turn.Stephen's news soon spread, and, in our part of the army at least, gave general satisfaction.Officers and men alike had perfect confidence in Görgei's judgment, and the only fear expressed was that he would be hampered by the orders of the civil government.For a time, however, we were too busy with the work of preparation to think much of anything else.Exactly what was in hand, of course, we did not know; but on the night of the third of April a rumour spread through the camp that the army would march at daybreak.Directly after breakfast the regiments mustered, arms were examined, instructions issued to officers; and as soon as it was well light we moved out in three divisions by the highroad running to Pesth.Görgei commanded in person, and under him were Generals Klapka, Aulich, and Damjanics.Our regiment formed part of the first corps, which advanced by the right, keeping in touch, however, with the two others. Görgei had left fifteen thousand men at Hatvan, but we were still nearly thirty thousand strong; and our object apparently was to prevent Jellachich from joining the main army under Windischgratz."There's the first move," cried young Thurzo excitedly, as away on our left one of Aulich's batteries opened fire."And the answer to it," said I, as the enemy responded with a terrific storm of shot and shell. "It must be warm over there."The battle soon developed, not reaching us, however, though occasionally we caught glimpses of it as we marched on to take up our position near the village of Tampio-Biscke.From a mounted messenger sent in search of Klapka we learned that the Croats, by a brilliant charge, had captured four guns, but were afterwards driven back, and could now barely hold their own.Jellachich was anxiously awaiting aid from the Austrians. Should it not come, his army would almost certainly be destroyed."Rather uninteresting work this," grumbled Thurzo. "Why, we were almost as lively down at Tisza-Fured.""Can't make out exactly why we are here," answered a comrade. "We aren't actors, for certain; while, as spectators, we get a very poor view of the performance.""Listen!" I interrupted as a thunderous roar of heavy guns broke out apparently close upon us. "The Austrians are over the river.""Hurrah!" cried Thurzo; "now for our share in the fight!"Poor fellow! I have often wondered since if he would have shown such eagerness had he known what was coming.Rakoczy spoke a word to the men, exhorting them to be steady; then we stood awaiting orders.They did not come. The roar of the guns was unceasing, drowning the rattle of musketry and the shrieks of the wounded; the blinding flashes played perpetually round their muzzles; our advanced guard was nearly annihilated, though that we only guessed.We leaned on our swords and wondered, while the men fumbled impatiently with their firearms; Rakoczy alone, smiling and genial, showed neither uneasiness nor concern.Suddenly an officer dashed up, hatless, bleeding, and holding his reins in his right hand. He spoke to the colonel, who, without a moment's delay, gave orders that the regiment should advance at the double.From that moment the horror of the fight began for us.Moving out from the low sand-hills that had hitherto sheltered us, we found ourselves very shortly in the thick of it.The Austrians had placed their batteries in such an admirable position that not only were our guns partly silenced, but the head of the column was blown clean away.One battery pumped shot and shell into our flank as we went by, while another continued to draw lines through the troops in front of us.I concluded that we were required to support an attack on the guns, when a loud cry from the men announced that something was happening.I have never seen a more peculiar sight.The remnant of the column began to bend from one side to the other, for all the world like a boat rocking in the water. The movement was slow at first, but it soon increased in speed, and then the column broke in pieces.At this the Austrians, plying the guns with renewed vigour, literally swept the plain with their fire, which put an end to the shattered column.In an instant a fine body of disciplined soldiers was changed into a fear-stricken mob flying for dear life.Away went bayonet and rifle, cartridge-pouch, and everything that by impeding flight might lessen the chance of safety.A shiver of indecision passed through our regiment at the sight; but Rakoczy's calmness stopped the mischief, at least for a time, and, under his directions, we opened our ranks to let the runaways through.On they came, shouting, yelling, and so blind with fear that I believe many of them did not recognize us.To stop them just then would have been impossible; it would be well if they did not carry the regiment off in their wild career.With heads bent and muscles stretched to breaking-point, they thundered along, seeing nothing, caring for nothing, except to get away.Young Thurzo, mad with shame and rage, shook his fist and called them bitter names, any one of which at another time would have cost him his life.Now they passed unchallenged; the fugitives heard nothing but the hissing of those terrible Austrian shells that had cost the column so dearly.Chiefly through the colonel's influence, the regiment stood firm, and, directly the runaways were past, proceeded to re-form its ranks.A moment's glance to the front, however, showed that another disaster was in store.Windischgratz, noticing the break-up of the column, ordered the battery to cease firing, and immediately launched two cavalry regiments--one of cuirassiers, one of hussars--to finish the work.We were, as I have already said, in the very act of reforming when they dashed at us.With five minutes' grace we might have made somewhat of a stand, but now they were too quick for us.I heard the colonel's "Steady, lads, steady! Stand your ground!" and then a blazing volley of musketry that brought down many a stalwart trooper.The cuirassiers were astonished by this warm reception, but they could not turn back if they would--their speed was too great.Helmets and cuirasses flashed in the sunlight as the horsemen sprang into our ranks, cutting and slashing on all sides.There are many safer places than a broken square in a cavalry charge.Before the Honveds found a chance of running away they fought desperately, stabbing with their bayonets at men and horses, or making serviceable weapons of their clubbed rifles.In such amêléeit was almost necessarily a case of every man for himself; but a few of the officers stuck together, and by degrees gathered round them the steadiest of the men.The colonel was at their head, and I joined them with young Thurzo, who was wild with grief. He had taken part in two battles, and each had ended in defeat.By this time the larger part of the regiment was in full flight, and the cuirassiers, finding the way open, followed in pursuit.We formed ourselves into a square, officers and privates shoulder to shoulder, with Rakoczy on foot to lead us.I had caught the colours as they dropped from the grasp of the man who bore them, and they still fluttered bravely overhead.I have said that Windischgratz sent out two cavalry regiments, and the second now charged hotly on our poor remnant.Amongst the officers Von Theyer showed conspicuously, and, as before, he paid me special attention, which was flattering but uncomfortable.However, we beat the hussars off time and again, and continued to retire steadily, though not without great loss.It was pitiful to see man after man drop dead or grievously wounded, but the others closed up and ever showed an unbroken front.Poor Thurzo, whom I had learned to like well, and who marched out so gaily to the fight that morning, met his death here. Two troopers dashed at him with uplifted sabres: one he shot dead with his pistol; the other cleft him from head to chin.Poor fellow! He had been much afraid that Aulich's corps would get all the fighting.There he lay dead, and his greatest friend could do no more than give him the fleetest of passing thoughts.Back we went steadily; and, though death was busy in our ranks, yet the square grew larger, for many fugitives belonging both to our own and other regiments joined us.How the battle went elsewhere it was impossible for us to guess, but the utter rout of our corps was painfully apparent.Once we set up a cheer as a small party of cuirassiers went galloping back, but the cheer changed into a cry of rage when we saw they were dragging a captured gun.Another and another followed. The hussars yelled exultingly, and, nerved by the sight, made another effort to break the square.Instantly we halted; the front rank men kneeled down; the rifles were levelled; there was a line of light, a loud report, and once more the hussars were thrown back.It was just after this that a shout arose which put heart into the most depressed.From the throats of thousands there leaped a cry of "Görgei! Görgei!" The runaways stopped in their headlong flight. A part of Damjanic's division hurried to the scene, and flung themselves across the path of the victors.The rout was stayed. The Austrians who had followed in the wake of their cavalry were brought to a standstill; the battle, which had passed us, now began to return. Our eyes danced with joy as we saw the white-coats come back at a run.Following them closely, Görgei and his staff rode at the head of Schwartzenberg's Hungarian regiment. Rakoczy, seizing his opportunity, led us forward to join them.The tide had turned with a vengeance.Back went the Austrians--horse, foot, and field-guns--not exactly broken, yet in extreme disorder, and seeking shelter under their two fixed batteries.Now we had a taste of the reception our advanced guard had met with earlier in the day, and understood how it was they failed to hold their ground.Görgei quickly made up his mind what to do.We saw him speak to his staff, and two officers darted off, one towards us, one towards the rear.Our messenger was Stephen, his face flushed, his eyes glowing with excitement.He dashed up to the colonel, saluted, pointed with his sword, delivered his message, threw me a kindly look in passing, and was gone.Rakoczy lost not a moment, but, pointing to the battery, exclaimed quietly, "My lads, the general says we are to take that battery; the sooner we reach it the better."The men cheered in reply; but many a lip twitched nervously, and more than one face paled, for the colonel's words were a message of death.The colonel knew it too; and, as we started, he gave my hand a slight pressure as in token of farewell. But his voice was firm, his face full of quiet confidence, his glance proud and smiling. The sacrifice was for his country: let it be made.Then away we went, and at the same moment the veterans from Damjanic's division started for the second battery.Unfortunately, there was little cover on our route; and, as the colonel had said, our best plan was to reach the sandhill where the battery was posted in the shortest possible time.A terrible fire opened on us at once, but the first flight of shells passed harmlessly; the second killed a few men and smashed the flag-pole I carried; at the third we flung ourselves into a gully of sand, Rakoczy alone remaining upright.Then, springing to our feet, we ran on, cheering frantically as a regiment of hussars dashed up from the right straight at the flank of the battery.The horsemen were still a long way off, but they rode hard, and would reach the guns in time to give us help."Forward! forward!" shouted Rakoczy; and the brave fellow, fleet of foot as a deer, led the way several yards in advance.Still carrying the shattered pole, I toiled on, while the great guns, belching forth fire and flame, poured their deadly missiles into the midst of us.Once, tripping over a prostrate body, I fell to the ground heavily, and lay for a moment half-stunned; the next I was on my feet, and running with all my might to get a place in the front."The flag!" I gasped, overtaking the rear. "Make way for the flag!"Everywhere now the Austrians were making a stubborn last stand. If only they could roll us back ever so little, the day would be theirs.Through a rift in the smoke-cloud I saw a hussar regiment ride out from behind the battery, and guessed they intended to meet the charge of our own horsemen half-way.The curtain dropped again; I could see no more. Rakoczy was still unhurt, for his voice sounded clearly above the din, and the men responded to his cry of "Forward!" with a cheer.Then we were there, so unexpectedly that I stared amazedly at the long, black monsters which the gunners could not spike.I sprang on one and waved the colours, while the men cheered madly.Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, there went by a ragged line of horsemen, spurring hard, and leaning over the heads of their animals that, with foam-splashed lips, distended nostrils, and heaving sides, strained every muscle.We gazed open-mouthed at the apparition, and then gave ourselves up to renewed cheering as our own hussars--Stephen riding neck by neck with their colonel--dashed in pursuit.Farther away on the left, the regiment of veterans, having captured the battery, was engaged in fierce conflict with a body of infantry. Now from all sides our friends were hurrying up, and the Austrians, overwhelmed by numbers, fled over the Tapio River towards Koka, where they sheltered behind the sand-hills. As for us, we halted on the ground it had cost us so dear to win; and the colonel immediately sent me to collect the runaways from the regiment, and bring them back.This I did with exceeding difficulty, as the whole of Klapka's corps was in a terrible state of confusion. Then, with Dobozy and half a dozen soldiers, I proceeded to search for the body of the hapless Thurzo.I picked up the sword which had dropped from the nerveless fingers, while Dobozy cut a curl from the dead lad's raven hair."For his mother," he said softly, not attempting to hide the tears that gathered in his eyes. "He was her only son, and she is a widow."The men carried the body to a small wood nearly half a mile away, and there, with the sweet-smelling pines swaying mournfully overhead, we buried him, marking the place by a rude cross."It will comforther, when the war is ended, to come and pray beside it," said Dobozy, as we turned sorrowfully toward the spot where our regiment was stationed.We were not very cheerful in camp that night. We were tired out with marching and fighting, saddened by the loss of many brave companions, while the shame of that morning's rout hung over us like a pall.True, the Austrians had finally been repulsed; but the credit of that was not ours. That belonged to Görgei and the veterans of the second division.The runaways were sulky and ashamed; the officers--some of whom had been literally carried off by the crowd of fugitives--were furiously angry.For myself, I was on fatigue duty till a late hour, and Dobozy volunteered to help me: hard work would divert his mind somewhat from dwelling on the death of his comrade.It was nearly midnight when we rejoined our brother-officers, who, wrapped in their mantles, lay in a ring on the ground. Some had forgotten the disaster in sleep, others were still chatting quietly over the events of the day.Rakoczy was absent; he had been sent for by the chief, who wished to consult him, or more likely, perhaps, to give him some orders for the morning.Dobozy and I lay down side by side, wrapped ourselves in our mantles, and tried to snatch an hour or two's sleep.In this my companion happily succeeded, but I was less fortunate, being weighed down by a sense of uneasiness as to my brother's fate.After that momentary glimpse of him riding at the head of the hussars, he had vanished, and no one seemed to know what had become of him.True, he might have rejoined Görgei, and been sent with a message to Aulich; but the general gloom of the day made me nervous and fanciful, and I lay awake until Rakoczy returned."Stephen?" he said, in answer to my anxious questioning. "No, I certainly didn't see him; but what of that? Görgei'saidesflit about like ghosts in a stage-play. They aren't supposed to be like ordinary mortals, who want food and rest. Cheer up, my boy; I really don't think there's any reason to worry. If Stephen had come to grief, Görgei would have known and told me, you may be sure. Clear your head of these notions, and go to sleep. We're likely to have a hard day to-morrow."This was sensible advice, and I tried to act on it; but after all, I must confess, there was little sleep for me that night.CHAPTER XII.A SORROWFUL VICTORY."Conquer to-day, or back behind the Theiss! Such is the alternative; I know of no other. Damjanics still continues the battle. Aulich advances; Klapka has stopped his retreat. Forward! Wemustconquer!"These were the words which greeted us from our brave chief, when once again we stood in battle array, and they warmed our blood like a draught of generous wine.I understood little of the general's plans, except that at all costs he purposed keeping Jellachich and the Austrians apart.On the extreme left, Aulich and a part of the second division advanced through a spur of the Isaszeg forest; in the centre our cavalry and artillery had gathered; we of Klapka's corps, with a small part of the second division, occupied the most northern spur of all.As we reached our positions, Görgei rode down, attended by his brilliant staff.I looked eagerly for Stephen, and my heart sank when I saw he was not there.Görgei was no orator like Kossuth. As a rule he spoke with his sword, and very clearly did he make himself understood.This morning he treated us to a little harangue. It was not long, but very effective."My lads!" he said, and his voice rang out like a trumpet-call, "there is only one thing I ask you to do--stand where you are till the sun goes down. Will you do it?"Like one man, the broken remnant of Klapka's corps shouted their answer; and the general, whose face beamed with pleasure, rode off amidst enthusiastic cries of "Elijen Görgei!"In the centre, a part of the forest had burst into flames, and the wind, blowing from the south, spread the smoke over our right like a curtain.At times it was so thick we could neither see nor be seen. Again it would lift, and reveal to our straining eyes some portion of the battle.The artillery duel in the centre proceeded with the utmost vigour, but it seemed to us that the Austrian fire gradually grew weaker and slacker. Two tremendous explosions, one after the other, announced the blowing up of a considerable quantity of ammunition, and for a while the fire ceased.Aulich's corps was by this time hidden from view in the forest, but by the sound of his light guns we could tell he was making uninterrupted progress.Thus far we ourselves were merely spectators of the battle, but now several infantry regiments appeared on our right, and poured a destructive fire into our ranks.We paid back what we could of their favours; but they had the advantage of us, and Klapka had just given orders to turn them out when they themselves rushed forward to the charge.The onslaught was sudden and violent, but the Magyars, burning to atone for yesterday's panic, actually left the shelter of the trees in order to engage their enemy the sooner.So eager, indeed, were the 9th Honveds that they got entirely out of hand, and having defeated a body of the enemy, chased them much farther than was prudent.A well-directed cavalry charge would at this moment have cut the regiment in pieces.As it happened, Klapka's men were successful all along the line, which helped us to return without mishap.The tremendous cannonade in the centre, which had partly died away, now broke out afresh. The wind, veering again, swept the smoke from the burning forest right across our position, shrouding us completely.When next we were able to catch a glimpse of the battle, our men raised a loud cheer and flourished their rifles excitedly, to the great danger both of themselves and their comrades.Far in advance of us, and on our left, the soldiers of Aulich's division were pushing the Austrians before them, and thus far Görgei's plans had proved a success.At this sight our own opponents made a desperate effort to drive us from the spur of the forest which we held, and for a while longer the fight raged with great fury.Görgei's words, however, still rang in our ears, and not a man made a backward step.About this time my anxiety concerning Stephen was relieved. The general, seeing what tremendous efforts the enemy made to roll us back, rode up to give us some little encouragement, and amongst his staff I saw my brother, apparently unhurt, but looking very tired.Stephen gave me a bright nod as the general cantered along, praising the men, bidding them hold out a little longer, and assuring us all that the battle was practically won.Görgei had hardly gone when our opponents rallied for a final attack.It was growing dusk by now, and we felt sure that everything in our part of the field depended on the next half-hour.An Austrian success would wipe out all the advantage Aulich had obtained; while if we stood firm, the enemy must retire in every part of the field.The part to be played by the 9th Honveds was very simple, yet I must admit we did not like it. A shadow of annoyance passed over even Rakoczy's face when the order was brought from Klapka.Every man in the regiment burned to advance, instead of which we had to stand still and supply a steady target for the enemy's fire.Fortunately the attack did not last long. The other regiments, turning on us as on a pivot, swung round in a flanking movement, and presently the Hungarian cry of "Forward! forward!" told that our comrades were driving the enemy before them."Now," exclaimed our colonel genially, "if Aulich has taken Isaszeg, the affair is over."But had he? No one could tell. His corps had vanished completely, and the fast-approaching night swallowed everything in gloom.Two hours longer we stood to our arms, ready at any moment either to advance or to repel any fresh attack.It was dreary work waiting, and the men were so tired that many fell asleep while standing in the ranks.Suddenly there rose a sound of cheering, a vigorous "Elijen Görgei! Elijen Aulich!" and the welcome news flashed from regiment to regiment, from man to man, that Aulich had chased the Austrians out of Isaszeg.The knowledge of this success made new men of us. We forgot our fatigue, and lay half through the night joyfully discussing the probable results of the battle.Every one agreed that the Austrians would now be compelled to fall back on Pesth. Very few, if any, suspected that from our victory was to spring the ruin of the national cause.Görgei was not the man to let the grass grow under his feet, and the next day Klapka and Damjanics received orders to march on Waitzen, the town standing on the bend where the Danube sweeps round to the south, while one corps remained behind to hoodwink Windischgratz.Nothing of interest occurred during the march, and we reached Waitzen on the morning of April 9 without having met a sign of the enemy.The town was unfortified; but the Austrian general, Gatz, commanding two brigades, had resolved upon a vigorous defence, as we soon found.The 9th Honveds formed part of the vanguard, and after a sharp struggle we succeeded in forcing a way into the streets.Here our progress was instantly checked. The old-fashioned lane in which we found ourselves was so narrow that the inmates of the houses, by leaning out of window, could almost shake hands with their opposite neighbours.Across this lane three barricades had been constructed in such a manner that, while the second commanded the first, the third overawed both.Carried away by what was, perhaps, a natural impulse, the men, without waiting for orders, rushed at the nearest barrier, and were mowed down in scores.I suppose it is the sense of being shut up in a corner, with little chance of escape, that makes street fighting so savage. Certainly I have never seen so furious a conflict in the open field as behind the barricades in Waitzen.From the shouts and cries of the combatants, and the firing of guns, we recognized that our comrades were fighting their way, step by step, in other directions, and I for one hoped some of them would come to our assistance by taking the barricades in the rear.The attack having failed, the men came dropping back in disorder, being exposed not only to the fire from the barrier, but also from the windows of the houses, which were garrisoned by soldiers.Meanwhile, the pressure behind being relieved, the colonel rallied the regiment into something like order again."It's no use trying for the barricade like that, my lads," he exclaimed cheerfully; "we're only knocking our heads against a stone wall. What we have to do is to clear the houses one by one."This was really the only workmanlike way of doing the business, though it added much to the horrors of the combat.The Austrians inside the buildings forced us to fight for every room in each house. They made a barricade of every article of furniture, and a fortress of every staircase. While we fought those below, their comrades in the upper stories picked us off with their rifles; and when their ammunition was exhausted they clambered over to the next house, or dropped into the street.In this fashion we worked our way to the buildings overlooking the first barricade, which now became useless, and was immediately abandoned.The last man to leave was their leader, and at sight of him my heart beat fast.He stood on the barricade, coolly directing the movements of his men, while the bullets fell round him like hailstones.In one hand was his sword; in the other he carried the black and yellow flag of his country.He did not seem in any kind of hurry, but waited patiently till the soldiers had entered the houses; then, and not till then, he left his post.He had not seen me; but I recognized him at once, and trembled for his safety.I had never met this noble veteran since leaving Vienna, and had hoped the war might end without our coming face to face. How could I ever look into the pretty fräulein's eyes again if by any chance my sword should cross that of her father's?For this Austrian leader, whose bravery even the Magyars applauded, was Baron von Arnstein, and it was plain he would yield that narrow passage only with his life.Happily, perhaps, I had little leisure for thinking. The first barricade being down, the fight continued with redoubled fury.And now, adding new horror to the scene, fire broke out; and by the time we had fought our way to the second barricade, it was necessary for both sides to abandon the houses.The third barrier must be taken by a rush along the narrow lane, or not at all.By this time the regiment had lost half its strength. Both the majors were down--dead or wounded, we knew not which--and many other officers; but the survivors, instead of being cowed by this great loss, were only the more eager to go on.So, in the midst of the smoke and the flames from the burning houses, we took our lives in our hands and ran, Rakoczy leading."Forward!" he cried. "Forward!" echoed the Honveds, and a spectator would have thought our fierce rush alone must have swept the Austrians into eternity.But on the barricade, still grasping the black and yellow flag, there stood a man to whom fear was an unknown quantity, and whose one idea was to do the duty entrusted to him.I watched him with the keenest interest as he collected his forces to withstand the shock.Rakoczy saw him too, and his genial brow clouded. It grieved him sorely to think he must fight against his old acquaintance; but, like the Austrian baron, the Magyar had a duty to perform, and there was no trace of faltering in his voice as he urged his men to the assault.The next moment the white-coats poured in their volley. Many of our fellows dropped, Rakoczy amongst them. The rest of us rushed on wildly, to be stopped by a second volley more destructive than the first.Then some one shouted lustily that the colonel was dead; and the Honveds, with victory within their grasp, ran back, while the enemy cheered exultingly.Sad at heart, I returned to the spot where my gallant friend had fallen and, with the help of Mecsey Sándor, who followed me everywhere like a shadow, bore his body back.It was terrible to think I had not time even to find out if he were really dead!We laid him down reverently, and I immediately began to re-form the broken regiment; for so fierce had been the fighting, that of the officers able to enter action I was the senior.Very gladly I would have yielded the honour and responsibility to another; but as that could not be, I resolved to do my best."Will you follow me, my lads?" I cried, when we were again ready."We will!" they answered, with a shout."Then come on! Over the barricade this time!"It is curious how a phrase, or sometimes even a word, will work on a number of men acting together.There is nothing very striking in "Over the barricade this time!" yet the words were caught up by the soldiers, repeated again and again, and more than one man died with them on his lips.They sounded high and clear above the noise of the first volley, and as we pressed on the wounded sent them after us feebly.I really believe they kept us going after the next volley fired at close range, and certainly they were roared out most lustily as the first of the stormers appeared on the stronghold.It was Dobozy carrying the colours; but he missed his footing and fell down, half stunned, but otherwise unhurt.A little, muscular fellow picked up the fallen flag, and sprang with it to my side, while the others rushed pell-mell after us.I had purposely avoided Von Arnstein, who was to the right of me; but, like a true leader, he soon scented where the danger was greatest, and cut a way to that part of his stronghold where the red, white, and green proudly waved.Twice we went back to the very edge of the barrier, and once the colours were snatched from our grasp by a grizzled veteran, who laughed defiantly as a Magyar cut him down.To right and left of us the flames of the burning buildings threw a lurid glare on the scene, and some one excitedly shouted that the barricade was on fire.We heard the shout, but it had no effect on the fighting. It did not prevent a blow being struck, nor cause the foot of Magyar or Austrian to move an inch backward.We had gripped one another, as it were, by the throat, and hung there like bulldogs.When I look back at that terrible fight, I find the picture for the most part blurred and indistinct; but there is just one tiny part of it whose colour is vivid and its drawing bold.It will always be so, I suppose, though I do not care to see it.Over and over again I had gone out of my way to avoid the gallant leader, had plunged with foolhardy recklessness into the greatest dangers, and he had followed my steps with strange persistence.I do not think he had a moment's suspicion who I was until at last the chances of the fight brought us face to face.That is the one corner of the picture where the colours have not faded. All around is a blur; but two figures stand out lifelike.One is that of a youth with torn uniform, his smoke-begrimed features working with excitement, his sword held in the most awkward manner either for attack or defence.The other is the figure of an old man, his breast covered with medals and decorations, of commanding carriage, and with a proud look in his keen blue eyes.Close by, my fancy paints the face of a beautiful girl gazing mournfully at the youth and the old man--the Magyar and the Austrian.I know it is not really there, yet I see it as plainly as I did on that terrible day in the years gone by.The tide had at last turned in our favour; the Austrians were yielding slowly, when their leader made his final effort. Cheered by his voice, they rallied once more, and then it was we met.The look which flashed from his eyes to mine occupied the merest fraction of a second, yet I shall never forget it.I read there astonishment and sorrow, then a certain hardness, as if the brave old warrior were calling duty to his aid.With him the struggle ended, and the soldier, not the friend, gained the victory.I saw his determination quite plainly, and yet could not bring myself to parry the blow. Who could tell what might happen if once our swords crossed?Theresa was looking into my eyes, and, as I lowered my weapon, she smiled upon me approvingly and vanished.Perhaps the baron would have drawn back; but he was in the very act of delivering his stroke, and I nerved myself to meet it.The sword shone red in the glow of the flames; but before it descended another piece of steel flashed past me, and pierced the baron's chest.Mecsey Sándor had no scruples in killing any one to save his master's life, which the faithful fellow undoubtedly had done.At the fall of their chief the Austrians abandoned the position, upon which I ordered the regiment to fall in a little beyond the burning houses.Just then a man clapped me lightly on the shoulder, saying, "Thanks, George!" and, turning, I beheld the colonel.The men recognized him too, and broke into hearty cheering."We have suffered so severely," I said, "that I stopped the pursuit.""Quite right. Let others follow; we must see to the wounded, or they will be burned to death. The barricade's in a blaze, and--""The baron!" I exclaimed. "He lies there, dead or dangerously wounded. Let me have some men.""As many as you please. Dobozy--"I hurried off at once, and, selecting a score of fellows, ran to the barrier, which appeared to be enveloped in flames. True, it was not quite as bad as that, but we had barely time to remove the injured and some of the dead when the whole pile fell in with a crash, and the heavens were reddened by a broad sheet of flame.I found Von Arnstein just where he had fallen, and had him carried to a house some distance off, where I went, immediately the work of rescue was finished.Our comrades had been equally successful in other parts of the town, and Waitzen was in our hands, though we had paid a heavier price for it than was reckoned on.In a state of utter dejection I entered the room where the baron lay on a bed, and it scarcely needed the surgeon's significant gesture to kill the tiny germ of hope in my breast. I crossed the room with noiseless steps and looked at the dying man.The surgeon had cut away a part of his coat and shirt, the more easily to get at the wound, but a glance showed even to me that all his skill was vain.Mecsey Sándor's arm was strong, and in defence of his master he had struck with all his might.The veteran's face was bloodless, but he lay quite still, and I rejoiced to think he suffered little pain.As I bent over him his eyes opened, and he gazed at me languidly, but without a sign of recognition."Baron," I said softly, "don't you know me, George Botskay, the young Hungarian you saved from prison? I was once able to do a little service for your daughter."How much of this he understood I cannot say, but the last word certainly made an impression, for a happy smile lit up his wan face, and he murmured to himself what sounded like "Tessie."This I took to be an endearing name for his daughter.His strength was soon exhausted, his eyes closed again, and I thought he was dead."No," said the surgeon, "he will rally at the end; it cannot be far off.""An hour?""More likely two. He is a strong man, or he would have gone before this."Borrowing a piece of paper from the owner of the house, I wrote a note to Rakoczy, requesting leave to stay with the baron, and sent it by a soldier. Then I sat down by the bedside to wait for the end.
CHAPTER XI.
GÖRGEI TO THE RESCUE.
The noise of the battle died away as we left the town and made for the field where the 9th Honveds were resting after their exertions. As usual they had been pretty roughly handled; but Görgei had found time to thank them for their bravery, and that paid for everything.
Some were eating and drinking; others, wrapped in their bundas, were already fast asleep. The colonel was just returning from visiting the wounded.
"Hallo!" he exclaimed; "what are you doing here? Thought you were at Tisza-Fured. Who are those fellows?"
"They've just come from hospital to rejoin their regiments. I thought perhaps you'd tell me what to do with them."
"All right. I'll attend to it.--Glad to see you, Dobozy.--A little bit too late for the fight, Thurzo. We've had another turn at our old friend Schlick. Hot while it lasted; but we carried too many guns for him. Plucky chap, though. I'd invite you into my tent if I had one; but you can take your choice of the ground--there's plenty to choose from.--Any of my fellows amongst that lot, Botskay? Thanks. Let them stand out.--Back again, my lads? Good-luck to you.--Now, George, come along and we'll dispose of the others; they look as if they want a rest."
The colonel rattled on in his lively strain, passed the men on to the proper authorities, stopped here and there to joke with his friends, and then took me back to the regiment, where we joined the other officers at their evening meal.
"Yes," he said cheerfully, in answer to some remark, "things are shaping well at present. If only Görgei had a free hand, the white-coats would soon be bundling out of Pesth."
This seemed to be the general opinion, though here and there one heard a word in praise of Vetter, and even of Dembinski, the late chief.
It was the second day after the affair at Hatvan when Stephen rode up to the quarters of the 9th Honveds.
"I expected to find you here," he exclaimed cheerfully. "Feel all right again?"
"Thanks, old chap; I'm as well as ever. As for you, this soldiering seems to suit you perfectly. Haven't seen you look so smiling for ages."
He actually laughed. "Not heard the news? Well, it will be known in an hour or two. Vetter's resigned, and Görgei has been made chief."
"Then we can begin to pack up?"
"Yes. There won't be much rest for any one till we're in Pesth."
"And not much then."
"No. Of course, I don't claim to be in the general's secrets, but I know him well enough to feel sure he won't stop till we get to Vienna. By the way, that reminds me of a queer circumstance. Do you remember Von Theyer?"
I nodded briskly.
"He's turned imperialist, and is either a captain or major in the hussars. The fellow made a dead set at me the other day, and I should advise you to be careful."
Thereupon I related what had happened at Kapolna, upon which Stephen repeated his warning more seriously, saying that in Von Theyer I had, no doubt, a special and determined enemy.
"If possible, he will do you mischief," he continued; "so be on your guard. Plainly he is a very clever fellow, or he would not so easily have hoodwinked the authorities, and he has courage enough for anything."
"Yes, he makes a dashing cavalry leader; but why should he be so bitter against us? We haven't harmed the fellow."
Stephen smiled, and made almost the same remark as Rakoczy at Kapolna.
"Have you forgotten the fräulein?" he asked. "No, I see you have not by the blush on your face. Well, my boy, Von Theyer wants to keep the fräulein's favours for himself. Understand?"
I nodded lightly, and Rakoczy coming up at the moment, the talk took a fresh turn.
Stephen's news soon spread, and, in our part of the army at least, gave general satisfaction.
Officers and men alike had perfect confidence in Görgei's judgment, and the only fear expressed was that he would be hampered by the orders of the civil government.
For a time, however, we were too busy with the work of preparation to think much of anything else.
Exactly what was in hand, of course, we did not know; but on the night of the third of April a rumour spread through the camp that the army would march at daybreak.
Directly after breakfast the regiments mustered, arms were examined, instructions issued to officers; and as soon as it was well light we moved out in three divisions by the highroad running to Pesth.
Görgei commanded in person, and under him were Generals Klapka, Aulich, and Damjanics.
Our regiment formed part of the first corps, which advanced by the right, keeping in touch, however, with the two others. Görgei had left fifteen thousand men at Hatvan, but we were still nearly thirty thousand strong; and our object apparently was to prevent Jellachich from joining the main army under Windischgratz.
"There's the first move," cried young Thurzo excitedly, as away on our left one of Aulich's batteries opened fire.
"And the answer to it," said I, as the enemy responded with a terrific storm of shot and shell. "It must be warm over there."
The battle soon developed, not reaching us, however, though occasionally we caught glimpses of it as we marched on to take up our position near the village of Tampio-Biscke.
From a mounted messenger sent in search of Klapka we learned that the Croats, by a brilliant charge, had captured four guns, but were afterwards driven back, and could now barely hold their own.
Jellachich was anxiously awaiting aid from the Austrians. Should it not come, his army would almost certainly be destroyed.
"Rather uninteresting work this," grumbled Thurzo. "Why, we were almost as lively down at Tisza-Fured."
"Can't make out exactly why we are here," answered a comrade. "We aren't actors, for certain; while, as spectators, we get a very poor view of the performance."
"Listen!" I interrupted as a thunderous roar of heavy guns broke out apparently close upon us. "The Austrians are over the river."
"Hurrah!" cried Thurzo; "now for our share in the fight!"
Poor fellow! I have often wondered since if he would have shown such eagerness had he known what was coming.
Rakoczy spoke a word to the men, exhorting them to be steady; then we stood awaiting orders.
They did not come. The roar of the guns was unceasing, drowning the rattle of musketry and the shrieks of the wounded; the blinding flashes played perpetually round their muzzles; our advanced guard was nearly annihilated, though that we only guessed.
We leaned on our swords and wondered, while the men fumbled impatiently with their firearms; Rakoczy alone, smiling and genial, showed neither uneasiness nor concern.
Suddenly an officer dashed up, hatless, bleeding, and holding his reins in his right hand. He spoke to the colonel, who, without a moment's delay, gave orders that the regiment should advance at the double.
From that moment the horror of the fight began for us.
Moving out from the low sand-hills that had hitherto sheltered us, we found ourselves very shortly in the thick of it.
The Austrians had placed their batteries in such an admirable position that not only were our guns partly silenced, but the head of the column was blown clean away.
One battery pumped shot and shell into our flank as we went by, while another continued to draw lines through the troops in front of us.
I concluded that we were required to support an attack on the guns, when a loud cry from the men announced that something was happening.
I have never seen a more peculiar sight.
The remnant of the column began to bend from one side to the other, for all the world like a boat rocking in the water. The movement was slow at first, but it soon increased in speed, and then the column broke in pieces.
At this the Austrians, plying the guns with renewed vigour, literally swept the plain with their fire, which put an end to the shattered column.
In an instant a fine body of disciplined soldiers was changed into a fear-stricken mob flying for dear life.
Away went bayonet and rifle, cartridge-pouch, and everything that by impeding flight might lessen the chance of safety.
A shiver of indecision passed through our regiment at the sight; but Rakoczy's calmness stopped the mischief, at least for a time, and, under his directions, we opened our ranks to let the runaways through.
On they came, shouting, yelling, and so blind with fear that I believe many of them did not recognize us.
To stop them just then would have been impossible; it would be well if they did not carry the regiment off in their wild career.
With heads bent and muscles stretched to breaking-point, they thundered along, seeing nothing, caring for nothing, except to get away.
Young Thurzo, mad with shame and rage, shook his fist and called them bitter names, any one of which at another time would have cost him his life.
Now they passed unchallenged; the fugitives heard nothing but the hissing of those terrible Austrian shells that had cost the column so dearly.
Chiefly through the colonel's influence, the regiment stood firm, and, directly the runaways were past, proceeded to re-form its ranks.
A moment's glance to the front, however, showed that another disaster was in store.
Windischgratz, noticing the break-up of the column, ordered the battery to cease firing, and immediately launched two cavalry regiments--one of cuirassiers, one of hussars--to finish the work.
We were, as I have already said, in the very act of reforming when they dashed at us.
With five minutes' grace we might have made somewhat of a stand, but now they were too quick for us.
I heard the colonel's "Steady, lads, steady! Stand your ground!" and then a blazing volley of musketry that brought down many a stalwart trooper.
The cuirassiers were astonished by this warm reception, but they could not turn back if they would--their speed was too great.
Helmets and cuirasses flashed in the sunlight as the horsemen sprang into our ranks, cutting and slashing on all sides.
There are many safer places than a broken square in a cavalry charge.
Before the Honveds found a chance of running away they fought desperately, stabbing with their bayonets at men and horses, or making serviceable weapons of their clubbed rifles.
In such amêléeit was almost necessarily a case of every man for himself; but a few of the officers stuck together, and by degrees gathered round them the steadiest of the men.
The colonel was at their head, and I joined them with young Thurzo, who was wild with grief. He had taken part in two battles, and each had ended in defeat.
By this time the larger part of the regiment was in full flight, and the cuirassiers, finding the way open, followed in pursuit.
We formed ourselves into a square, officers and privates shoulder to shoulder, with Rakoczy on foot to lead us.
I had caught the colours as they dropped from the grasp of the man who bore them, and they still fluttered bravely overhead.
I have said that Windischgratz sent out two cavalry regiments, and the second now charged hotly on our poor remnant.
Amongst the officers Von Theyer showed conspicuously, and, as before, he paid me special attention, which was flattering but uncomfortable.
However, we beat the hussars off time and again, and continued to retire steadily, though not without great loss.
It was pitiful to see man after man drop dead or grievously wounded, but the others closed up and ever showed an unbroken front.
Poor Thurzo, whom I had learned to like well, and who marched out so gaily to the fight that morning, met his death here. Two troopers dashed at him with uplifted sabres: one he shot dead with his pistol; the other cleft him from head to chin.
Poor fellow! He had been much afraid that Aulich's corps would get all the fighting.
There he lay dead, and his greatest friend could do no more than give him the fleetest of passing thoughts.
Back we went steadily; and, though death was busy in our ranks, yet the square grew larger, for many fugitives belonging both to our own and other regiments joined us.
How the battle went elsewhere it was impossible for us to guess, but the utter rout of our corps was painfully apparent.
Once we set up a cheer as a small party of cuirassiers went galloping back, but the cheer changed into a cry of rage when we saw they were dragging a captured gun.
Another and another followed. The hussars yelled exultingly, and, nerved by the sight, made another effort to break the square.
Instantly we halted; the front rank men kneeled down; the rifles were levelled; there was a line of light, a loud report, and once more the hussars were thrown back.
It was just after this that a shout arose which put heart into the most depressed.
From the throats of thousands there leaped a cry of "Görgei! Görgei!" The runaways stopped in their headlong flight. A part of Damjanic's division hurried to the scene, and flung themselves across the path of the victors.
The rout was stayed. The Austrians who had followed in the wake of their cavalry were brought to a standstill; the battle, which had passed us, now began to return. Our eyes danced with joy as we saw the white-coats come back at a run.
Following them closely, Görgei and his staff rode at the head of Schwartzenberg's Hungarian regiment. Rakoczy, seizing his opportunity, led us forward to join them.
The tide had turned with a vengeance.
Back went the Austrians--horse, foot, and field-guns--not exactly broken, yet in extreme disorder, and seeking shelter under their two fixed batteries.
Now we had a taste of the reception our advanced guard had met with earlier in the day, and understood how it was they failed to hold their ground.
Görgei quickly made up his mind what to do.
We saw him speak to his staff, and two officers darted off, one towards us, one towards the rear.
Our messenger was Stephen, his face flushed, his eyes glowing with excitement.
He dashed up to the colonel, saluted, pointed with his sword, delivered his message, threw me a kindly look in passing, and was gone.
Rakoczy lost not a moment, but, pointing to the battery, exclaimed quietly, "My lads, the general says we are to take that battery; the sooner we reach it the better."
The men cheered in reply; but many a lip twitched nervously, and more than one face paled, for the colonel's words were a message of death.
The colonel knew it too; and, as we started, he gave my hand a slight pressure as in token of farewell. But his voice was firm, his face full of quiet confidence, his glance proud and smiling. The sacrifice was for his country: let it be made.
Then away we went, and at the same moment the veterans from Damjanic's division started for the second battery.
Unfortunately, there was little cover on our route; and, as the colonel had said, our best plan was to reach the sandhill where the battery was posted in the shortest possible time.
A terrible fire opened on us at once, but the first flight of shells passed harmlessly; the second killed a few men and smashed the flag-pole I carried; at the third we flung ourselves into a gully of sand, Rakoczy alone remaining upright.
Then, springing to our feet, we ran on, cheering frantically as a regiment of hussars dashed up from the right straight at the flank of the battery.
The horsemen were still a long way off, but they rode hard, and would reach the guns in time to give us help.
"Forward! forward!" shouted Rakoczy; and the brave fellow, fleet of foot as a deer, led the way several yards in advance.
Still carrying the shattered pole, I toiled on, while the great guns, belching forth fire and flame, poured their deadly missiles into the midst of us.
Once, tripping over a prostrate body, I fell to the ground heavily, and lay for a moment half-stunned; the next I was on my feet, and running with all my might to get a place in the front.
"The flag!" I gasped, overtaking the rear. "Make way for the flag!"
Everywhere now the Austrians were making a stubborn last stand. If only they could roll us back ever so little, the day would be theirs.
Through a rift in the smoke-cloud I saw a hussar regiment ride out from behind the battery, and guessed they intended to meet the charge of our own horsemen half-way.
The curtain dropped again; I could see no more. Rakoczy was still unhurt, for his voice sounded clearly above the din, and the men responded to his cry of "Forward!" with a cheer.
Then we were there, so unexpectedly that I stared amazedly at the long, black monsters which the gunners could not spike.
I sprang on one and waved the colours, while the men cheered madly.
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, there went by a ragged line of horsemen, spurring hard, and leaning over the heads of their animals that, with foam-splashed lips, distended nostrils, and heaving sides, strained every muscle.
We gazed open-mouthed at the apparition, and then gave ourselves up to renewed cheering as our own hussars--Stephen riding neck by neck with their colonel--dashed in pursuit.
Farther away on the left, the regiment of veterans, having captured the battery, was engaged in fierce conflict with a body of infantry. Now from all sides our friends were hurrying up, and the Austrians, overwhelmed by numbers, fled over the Tapio River towards Koka, where they sheltered behind the sand-hills. As for us, we halted on the ground it had cost us so dear to win; and the colonel immediately sent me to collect the runaways from the regiment, and bring them back.
This I did with exceeding difficulty, as the whole of Klapka's corps was in a terrible state of confusion. Then, with Dobozy and half a dozen soldiers, I proceeded to search for the body of the hapless Thurzo.
I picked up the sword which had dropped from the nerveless fingers, while Dobozy cut a curl from the dead lad's raven hair.
"For his mother," he said softly, not attempting to hide the tears that gathered in his eyes. "He was her only son, and she is a widow."
The men carried the body to a small wood nearly half a mile away, and there, with the sweet-smelling pines swaying mournfully overhead, we buried him, marking the place by a rude cross.
"It will comforther, when the war is ended, to come and pray beside it," said Dobozy, as we turned sorrowfully toward the spot where our regiment was stationed.
We were not very cheerful in camp that night. We were tired out with marching and fighting, saddened by the loss of many brave companions, while the shame of that morning's rout hung over us like a pall.
True, the Austrians had finally been repulsed; but the credit of that was not ours. That belonged to Görgei and the veterans of the second division.
The runaways were sulky and ashamed; the officers--some of whom had been literally carried off by the crowd of fugitives--were furiously angry.
For myself, I was on fatigue duty till a late hour, and Dobozy volunteered to help me: hard work would divert his mind somewhat from dwelling on the death of his comrade.
It was nearly midnight when we rejoined our brother-officers, who, wrapped in their mantles, lay in a ring on the ground. Some had forgotten the disaster in sleep, others were still chatting quietly over the events of the day.
Rakoczy was absent; he had been sent for by the chief, who wished to consult him, or more likely, perhaps, to give him some orders for the morning.
Dobozy and I lay down side by side, wrapped ourselves in our mantles, and tried to snatch an hour or two's sleep.
In this my companion happily succeeded, but I was less fortunate, being weighed down by a sense of uneasiness as to my brother's fate.
After that momentary glimpse of him riding at the head of the hussars, he had vanished, and no one seemed to know what had become of him.
True, he might have rejoined Görgei, and been sent with a message to Aulich; but the general gloom of the day made me nervous and fanciful, and I lay awake until Rakoczy returned.
"Stephen?" he said, in answer to my anxious questioning. "No, I certainly didn't see him; but what of that? Görgei'saidesflit about like ghosts in a stage-play. They aren't supposed to be like ordinary mortals, who want food and rest. Cheer up, my boy; I really don't think there's any reason to worry. If Stephen had come to grief, Görgei would have known and told me, you may be sure. Clear your head of these notions, and go to sleep. We're likely to have a hard day to-morrow."
This was sensible advice, and I tried to act on it; but after all, I must confess, there was little sleep for me that night.
CHAPTER XII.
A SORROWFUL VICTORY.
"Conquer to-day, or back behind the Theiss! Such is the alternative; I know of no other. Damjanics still continues the battle. Aulich advances; Klapka has stopped his retreat. Forward! Wemustconquer!"
These were the words which greeted us from our brave chief, when once again we stood in battle array, and they warmed our blood like a draught of generous wine.
I understood little of the general's plans, except that at all costs he purposed keeping Jellachich and the Austrians apart.
On the extreme left, Aulich and a part of the second division advanced through a spur of the Isaszeg forest; in the centre our cavalry and artillery had gathered; we of Klapka's corps, with a small part of the second division, occupied the most northern spur of all.
As we reached our positions, Görgei rode down, attended by his brilliant staff.
I looked eagerly for Stephen, and my heart sank when I saw he was not there.
Görgei was no orator like Kossuth. As a rule he spoke with his sword, and very clearly did he make himself understood.
This morning he treated us to a little harangue. It was not long, but very effective.
"My lads!" he said, and his voice rang out like a trumpet-call, "there is only one thing I ask you to do--stand where you are till the sun goes down. Will you do it?"
Like one man, the broken remnant of Klapka's corps shouted their answer; and the general, whose face beamed with pleasure, rode off amidst enthusiastic cries of "Elijen Görgei!"
In the centre, a part of the forest had burst into flames, and the wind, blowing from the south, spread the smoke over our right like a curtain.
At times it was so thick we could neither see nor be seen. Again it would lift, and reveal to our straining eyes some portion of the battle.
The artillery duel in the centre proceeded with the utmost vigour, but it seemed to us that the Austrian fire gradually grew weaker and slacker. Two tremendous explosions, one after the other, announced the blowing up of a considerable quantity of ammunition, and for a while the fire ceased.
Aulich's corps was by this time hidden from view in the forest, but by the sound of his light guns we could tell he was making uninterrupted progress.
Thus far we ourselves were merely spectators of the battle, but now several infantry regiments appeared on our right, and poured a destructive fire into our ranks.
We paid back what we could of their favours; but they had the advantage of us, and Klapka had just given orders to turn them out when they themselves rushed forward to the charge.
The onslaught was sudden and violent, but the Magyars, burning to atone for yesterday's panic, actually left the shelter of the trees in order to engage their enemy the sooner.
So eager, indeed, were the 9th Honveds that they got entirely out of hand, and having defeated a body of the enemy, chased them much farther than was prudent.
A well-directed cavalry charge would at this moment have cut the regiment in pieces.
As it happened, Klapka's men were successful all along the line, which helped us to return without mishap.
The tremendous cannonade in the centre, which had partly died away, now broke out afresh. The wind, veering again, swept the smoke from the burning forest right across our position, shrouding us completely.
When next we were able to catch a glimpse of the battle, our men raised a loud cheer and flourished their rifles excitedly, to the great danger both of themselves and their comrades.
Far in advance of us, and on our left, the soldiers of Aulich's division were pushing the Austrians before them, and thus far Görgei's plans had proved a success.
At this sight our own opponents made a desperate effort to drive us from the spur of the forest which we held, and for a while longer the fight raged with great fury.
Görgei's words, however, still rang in our ears, and not a man made a backward step.
About this time my anxiety concerning Stephen was relieved. The general, seeing what tremendous efforts the enemy made to roll us back, rode up to give us some little encouragement, and amongst his staff I saw my brother, apparently unhurt, but looking very tired.
Stephen gave me a bright nod as the general cantered along, praising the men, bidding them hold out a little longer, and assuring us all that the battle was practically won.
Görgei had hardly gone when our opponents rallied for a final attack.
It was growing dusk by now, and we felt sure that everything in our part of the field depended on the next half-hour.
An Austrian success would wipe out all the advantage Aulich had obtained; while if we stood firm, the enemy must retire in every part of the field.
The part to be played by the 9th Honveds was very simple, yet I must admit we did not like it. A shadow of annoyance passed over even Rakoczy's face when the order was brought from Klapka.
Every man in the regiment burned to advance, instead of which we had to stand still and supply a steady target for the enemy's fire.
Fortunately the attack did not last long. The other regiments, turning on us as on a pivot, swung round in a flanking movement, and presently the Hungarian cry of "Forward! forward!" told that our comrades were driving the enemy before them.
"Now," exclaimed our colonel genially, "if Aulich has taken Isaszeg, the affair is over."
But had he? No one could tell. His corps had vanished completely, and the fast-approaching night swallowed everything in gloom.
Two hours longer we stood to our arms, ready at any moment either to advance or to repel any fresh attack.
It was dreary work waiting, and the men were so tired that many fell asleep while standing in the ranks.
Suddenly there rose a sound of cheering, a vigorous "Elijen Görgei! Elijen Aulich!" and the welcome news flashed from regiment to regiment, from man to man, that Aulich had chased the Austrians out of Isaszeg.
The knowledge of this success made new men of us. We forgot our fatigue, and lay half through the night joyfully discussing the probable results of the battle.
Every one agreed that the Austrians would now be compelled to fall back on Pesth. Very few, if any, suspected that from our victory was to spring the ruin of the national cause.
Görgei was not the man to let the grass grow under his feet, and the next day Klapka and Damjanics received orders to march on Waitzen, the town standing on the bend where the Danube sweeps round to the south, while one corps remained behind to hoodwink Windischgratz.
Nothing of interest occurred during the march, and we reached Waitzen on the morning of April 9 without having met a sign of the enemy.
The town was unfortified; but the Austrian general, Gatz, commanding two brigades, had resolved upon a vigorous defence, as we soon found.
The 9th Honveds formed part of the vanguard, and after a sharp struggle we succeeded in forcing a way into the streets.
Here our progress was instantly checked. The old-fashioned lane in which we found ourselves was so narrow that the inmates of the houses, by leaning out of window, could almost shake hands with their opposite neighbours.
Across this lane three barricades had been constructed in such a manner that, while the second commanded the first, the third overawed both.
Carried away by what was, perhaps, a natural impulse, the men, without waiting for orders, rushed at the nearest barrier, and were mowed down in scores.
I suppose it is the sense of being shut up in a corner, with little chance of escape, that makes street fighting so savage. Certainly I have never seen so furious a conflict in the open field as behind the barricades in Waitzen.
From the shouts and cries of the combatants, and the firing of guns, we recognized that our comrades were fighting their way, step by step, in other directions, and I for one hoped some of them would come to our assistance by taking the barricades in the rear.
The attack having failed, the men came dropping back in disorder, being exposed not only to the fire from the barrier, but also from the windows of the houses, which were garrisoned by soldiers.
Meanwhile, the pressure behind being relieved, the colonel rallied the regiment into something like order again.
"It's no use trying for the barricade like that, my lads," he exclaimed cheerfully; "we're only knocking our heads against a stone wall. What we have to do is to clear the houses one by one."
This was really the only workmanlike way of doing the business, though it added much to the horrors of the combat.
The Austrians inside the buildings forced us to fight for every room in each house. They made a barricade of every article of furniture, and a fortress of every staircase. While we fought those below, their comrades in the upper stories picked us off with their rifles; and when their ammunition was exhausted they clambered over to the next house, or dropped into the street.
In this fashion we worked our way to the buildings overlooking the first barricade, which now became useless, and was immediately abandoned.
The last man to leave was their leader, and at sight of him my heart beat fast.
He stood on the barricade, coolly directing the movements of his men, while the bullets fell round him like hailstones.
In one hand was his sword; in the other he carried the black and yellow flag of his country.
He did not seem in any kind of hurry, but waited patiently till the soldiers had entered the houses; then, and not till then, he left his post.
He had not seen me; but I recognized him at once, and trembled for his safety.
I had never met this noble veteran since leaving Vienna, and had hoped the war might end without our coming face to face. How could I ever look into the pretty fräulein's eyes again if by any chance my sword should cross that of her father's?
For this Austrian leader, whose bravery even the Magyars applauded, was Baron von Arnstein, and it was plain he would yield that narrow passage only with his life.
Happily, perhaps, I had little leisure for thinking. The first barricade being down, the fight continued with redoubled fury.
And now, adding new horror to the scene, fire broke out; and by the time we had fought our way to the second barricade, it was necessary for both sides to abandon the houses.
The third barrier must be taken by a rush along the narrow lane, or not at all.
By this time the regiment had lost half its strength. Both the majors were down--dead or wounded, we knew not which--and many other officers; but the survivors, instead of being cowed by this great loss, were only the more eager to go on.
So, in the midst of the smoke and the flames from the burning houses, we took our lives in our hands and ran, Rakoczy leading.
"Forward!" he cried. "Forward!" echoed the Honveds, and a spectator would have thought our fierce rush alone must have swept the Austrians into eternity.
But on the barricade, still grasping the black and yellow flag, there stood a man to whom fear was an unknown quantity, and whose one idea was to do the duty entrusted to him.
I watched him with the keenest interest as he collected his forces to withstand the shock.
Rakoczy saw him too, and his genial brow clouded. It grieved him sorely to think he must fight against his old acquaintance; but, like the Austrian baron, the Magyar had a duty to perform, and there was no trace of faltering in his voice as he urged his men to the assault.
The next moment the white-coats poured in their volley. Many of our fellows dropped, Rakoczy amongst them. The rest of us rushed on wildly, to be stopped by a second volley more destructive than the first.
Then some one shouted lustily that the colonel was dead; and the Honveds, with victory within their grasp, ran back, while the enemy cheered exultingly.
Sad at heart, I returned to the spot where my gallant friend had fallen and, with the help of Mecsey Sándor, who followed me everywhere like a shadow, bore his body back.
It was terrible to think I had not time even to find out if he were really dead!
We laid him down reverently, and I immediately began to re-form the broken regiment; for so fierce had been the fighting, that of the officers able to enter action I was the senior.
Very gladly I would have yielded the honour and responsibility to another; but as that could not be, I resolved to do my best.
"Will you follow me, my lads?" I cried, when we were again ready.
"We will!" they answered, with a shout.
"Then come on! Over the barricade this time!"
It is curious how a phrase, or sometimes even a word, will work on a number of men acting together.
There is nothing very striking in "Over the barricade this time!" yet the words were caught up by the soldiers, repeated again and again, and more than one man died with them on his lips.
They sounded high and clear above the noise of the first volley, and as we pressed on the wounded sent them after us feebly.
I really believe they kept us going after the next volley fired at close range, and certainly they were roared out most lustily as the first of the stormers appeared on the stronghold.
It was Dobozy carrying the colours; but he missed his footing and fell down, half stunned, but otherwise unhurt.
A little, muscular fellow picked up the fallen flag, and sprang with it to my side, while the others rushed pell-mell after us.
I had purposely avoided Von Arnstein, who was to the right of me; but, like a true leader, he soon scented where the danger was greatest, and cut a way to that part of his stronghold where the red, white, and green proudly waved.
Twice we went back to the very edge of the barrier, and once the colours were snatched from our grasp by a grizzled veteran, who laughed defiantly as a Magyar cut him down.
To right and left of us the flames of the burning buildings threw a lurid glare on the scene, and some one excitedly shouted that the barricade was on fire.
We heard the shout, but it had no effect on the fighting. It did not prevent a blow being struck, nor cause the foot of Magyar or Austrian to move an inch backward.
We had gripped one another, as it were, by the throat, and hung there like bulldogs.
When I look back at that terrible fight, I find the picture for the most part blurred and indistinct; but there is just one tiny part of it whose colour is vivid and its drawing bold.
It will always be so, I suppose, though I do not care to see it.
Over and over again I had gone out of my way to avoid the gallant leader, had plunged with foolhardy recklessness into the greatest dangers, and he had followed my steps with strange persistence.
I do not think he had a moment's suspicion who I was until at last the chances of the fight brought us face to face.
That is the one corner of the picture where the colours have not faded. All around is a blur; but two figures stand out lifelike.
One is that of a youth with torn uniform, his smoke-begrimed features working with excitement, his sword held in the most awkward manner either for attack or defence.
The other is the figure of an old man, his breast covered with medals and decorations, of commanding carriage, and with a proud look in his keen blue eyes.
Close by, my fancy paints the face of a beautiful girl gazing mournfully at the youth and the old man--the Magyar and the Austrian.
I know it is not really there, yet I see it as plainly as I did on that terrible day in the years gone by.
The tide had at last turned in our favour; the Austrians were yielding slowly, when their leader made his final effort. Cheered by his voice, they rallied once more, and then it was we met.
The look which flashed from his eyes to mine occupied the merest fraction of a second, yet I shall never forget it.
I read there astonishment and sorrow, then a certain hardness, as if the brave old warrior were calling duty to his aid.
With him the struggle ended, and the soldier, not the friend, gained the victory.
I saw his determination quite plainly, and yet could not bring myself to parry the blow. Who could tell what might happen if once our swords crossed?
Theresa was looking into my eyes, and, as I lowered my weapon, she smiled upon me approvingly and vanished.
Perhaps the baron would have drawn back; but he was in the very act of delivering his stroke, and I nerved myself to meet it.
The sword shone red in the glow of the flames; but before it descended another piece of steel flashed past me, and pierced the baron's chest.
Mecsey Sándor had no scruples in killing any one to save his master's life, which the faithful fellow undoubtedly had done.
At the fall of their chief the Austrians abandoned the position, upon which I ordered the regiment to fall in a little beyond the burning houses.
Just then a man clapped me lightly on the shoulder, saying, "Thanks, George!" and, turning, I beheld the colonel.
The men recognized him too, and broke into hearty cheering.
"We have suffered so severely," I said, "that I stopped the pursuit."
"Quite right. Let others follow; we must see to the wounded, or they will be burned to death. The barricade's in a blaze, and--"
"The baron!" I exclaimed. "He lies there, dead or dangerously wounded. Let me have some men."
"As many as you please. Dobozy--"
I hurried off at once, and, selecting a score of fellows, ran to the barrier, which appeared to be enveloped in flames. True, it was not quite as bad as that, but we had barely time to remove the injured and some of the dead when the whole pile fell in with a crash, and the heavens were reddened by a broad sheet of flame.
I found Von Arnstein just where he had fallen, and had him carried to a house some distance off, where I went, immediately the work of rescue was finished.
Our comrades had been equally successful in other parts of the town, and Waitzen was in our hands, though we had paid a heavier price for it than was reckoned on.
In a state of utter dejection I entered the room where the baron lay on a bed, and it scarcely needed the surgeon's significant gesture to kill the tiny germ of hope in my breast. I crossed the room with noiseless steps and looked at the dying man.
The surgeon had cut away a part of his coat and shirt, the more easily to get at the wound, but a glance showed even to me that all his skill was vain.
Mecsey Sándor's arm was strong, and in defence of his master he had struck with all his might.
The veteran's face was bloodless, but he lay quite still, and I rejoiced to think he suffered little pain.
As I bent over him his eyes opened, and he gazed at me languidly, but without a sign of recognition.
"Baron," I said softly, "don't you know me, George Botskay, the young Hungarian you saved from prison? I was once able to do a little service for your daughter."
How much of this he understood I cannot say, but the last word certainly made an impression, for a happy smile lit up his wan face, and he murmured to himself what sounded like "Tessie."
This I took to be an endearing name for his daughter.
His strength was soon exhausted, his eyes closed again, and I thought he was dead.
"No," said the surgeon, "he will rally at the end; it cannot be far off."
"An hour?"
"More likely two. He is a strong man, or he would have gone before this."
Borrowing a piece of paper from the owner of the house, I wrote a note to Rakoczy, requesting leave to stay with the baron, and sent it by a soldier. Then I sat down by the bedside to wait for the end.