CHAPTER XIII.A VISIT FROM STEPHEN.The surgeon, who could do nothing further, slipped out quietly, asking as he went if he should send any one to bear me company.I shook my head, preferring to keep that solemn watch alone.In truth, my heart was exceedingly sad both for the dying man and for his dear ones in Vienna, who would await his return in vain.The manner of his death also sorely grieved me. Certainly my hand had not struck him down, but Sándor had slain him to save my life.It was foolish, perhaps, to dwell on the thought, but I could not thrust it out. I felt that but for me the baron would still have been at the head of his regiment.The house was very still, and even the noises from the captured town failed to reach me.The fires in the street had been extinguished, but now the glowing crimson of the setting sun flooded the room, and as its light fell athwart the bed the dying man moved restlessly."Let it burn!" he muttered. "All the better for us. Ready? Mind your aim! Fire!"His eyes were wide open, gazing with intense keenness across the room."Ach!" he continued. "They have it now! Who? The colonel? That will stop them! Sorry--knew him--Vienna. What? Again? Steady now! Here they come!"His brow was wet with perspiration, and, as I bent over to wipe it off, the dying glory of the sun shone full into my face.At this the baron's excitement increased, and he muttered to himself at a great rate, while I, dipping a rag in water, bathed his forehead continually.By degrees he became calmer; the wild light died from his eyes; he ceased to mutter, and presently looked into my face with a reasoning though puzzled expression."George Botskay," I said, trying to help his memory. "Don't you know? You stood my friend in Vienna."He smiled faintly, but with intelligence, and, moving his hand, pointed to the window, as if wishing to direct my attention to something outside."The barricade?" I ventured questioningly.He smiled again and dropped his hand in mine."Good lad," he murmured; "I saw and understood--afterwards.""I am sorry," I began; but he checked me, saying,--"A soldier's death, my boy. That is best--for me."He was getting very weak now, and I heard him with great difficulty.Some words I did not hear at all, and others only imperfectly; but I managed to understand what he wished done, and promised to do it.His requests, poor fellow, were very simple. He desired only that the miniature of his wife, which hung round his neck, should be given to Theresa, and his massive wedding-ring to the baroness.As I gently drew the latter from his finger, his mind wandered once more, and he talked to himself of bygone days and events of which I knew nothing.From the delights of peace he passed to the horrors of the battlefield, and then right back to the time of his childhood, when he was a happy, careless boy at his mother's side.Here he ended, and, rather to my surprise, just as the last gleam of the setting sun faded, he died with the sacred name of "mother" on his lips.Taking a long look at the face now so calm and still, I covered it reverently, and went away on tiptoe, as if the noise of my footsteps could disturb the dead.Outside I met the colonel, and returned with him to the room."Poor fellow!" he exclaimed, after gazing a moment at the white face. "What a blow for the pretty fräulein! I'll warrant he made an idol of her. War's an awful thing, George, when you come to strip the gilding off. I would not like to have the responsibility of one on my shoulders, though I'm a soldier born and bred. How many thousands of widows and orphans are cursing us at this very moment! Well, well; we must give the baron a decent funeral in the morning," and he led me away.The town seemed very quiet after the tremendous uproar of the day.The fires had been put out; the Austrians were in retreat; and our army was chasing them into that very mountain district where Görgei had led us in January.Our own regiment, having suffered so severely, was left behind, and I really felt glad of the change.The colonel had taken up his quarters in a decent house, and there at supper we were joined by the surviving officers of the regiment.Several of the absentees were dead, but the majority were in hospital, and, though badly wounded, expected to recover."Just like our luck!" said the colonel, as we sat chatting over what had happened. "We took the very strongest street in the town. The other fellows had a pleasure jaunt, compared with our march.""Who was the Austrian officer?" asked a sublieutenant. "I hope he escaped; he was a splendid chap.""That was Baron von Arnstein," the colonel replied. "I'm sorry to say he was killed. I mean to bury him to-morrow with military honours.""He deserves all the respect we can show him," Dobozy chimed in."There's one thing puzzles me, colonel," I said, "and that is, how you escaped. I saw you fall, and thought you were dead."For the first time that night Rakoczy's face lit up with his genial smile."I carry a bullet-catcher," he answered pleasantly; and taking a massive gold watch from his breast-pocket, he handed it to me."They've spoiled it as a time-keeper," he continued, "but it will come in as a curiosity."The watch had a double cover, and was enclosed in a bag of thick chamois leather, a part of which had been forced into the case by the impact of the bullet.The case itself was badly battered and the works smashed.I passed it to the other fellows, who examined it in profound astonishment and warmly congratulated the colonel on his marvellous escape."Yes," said he brightly; "but for that watch Görgei might have looked for a new colonel.""We prefer to keep our old one, though he does wear a watch that won't tell the time," I remarked.Dobozy asked if it could be mended, but the colonel said he preferred keeping it as it was, which I certainly should have done.We did not sit long, having to rise early; and in the morning, as soon as it could be managed, Rakoczy turned out the regiment to pay the last honours to our valiant opponent.We buried him in the Catholic cemetery, where I made arrangements for a handsome stone to be erected in his memory. It stands there to this day.When all was over, the men marched back to the strains of martial music, while I felt as sorrowful as if we had been assisting to bury a valued friend.Fortunately, a soldier on active service has little leisure in which to indulge his grief, and thus it was with me now.So greatly had the regiment lost in officers that the survivors were compelled to do more than double duty, and for several days I had not an hour to myself.One event, though not exactly bearing on my story, must be chronicled, since it shows the generosity of Görgei's nature.During the fierce fighting on the ninth of April the Austrian general, Gatz, had fallen while at the head of his men, and our chief, anxious to honour the memory of a gallant adversary, did on a large scale what we had done for Von Arnstein, and accorded him a magnificent military funeral.The display was of a most imposing description, and when the body of the brave Austrian had been laid to rest, the ceremony was concluded by the discharge of a hundred guns.Meanwhile, grave events were taking place. Just as the battle of Isaszeg had cut off the Austrian right wing, so now their left was completely broken up, and it became plain that Windischgratz must evacuate Pesth."Another stroke like the last," said Rakoczy one evening as we sat chatting in his room, "and the thing will be done.""Unless Kossuth's party should try to drive too hard a bargain.""Oh no," replied the colonel cheerfully. "The Austrians know exactly what we want. The emperor has only to be crowned King of Hungary, and swear to restore our ancient rights. He will do that as soon as our army appears under the walls of Vienna.""It isn't much, especially when--"A loud banging at the door cut the sentence short, and in walked my brother, looking flushed and excited.Neither of us had seen him since the meeting at Isaszeg, and we had not the faintest notion he was in Waitzen.He shook hands with us warmly, drank a glass of wine which Rakoczy poured out, and sat down."Care to turn in?" asked the colonel. "My bed's doing nothing, and you look tired."Stephen shook his head. "I'm off in a couple of hours; only waiting to rest my horse.""There's nothing wrong, I hope?""Nothing wrong!" exclaimed my brother. "Everything's wrong! Haven't you heard the news from Debreczin? Here, read this!" and he drew a printed paper from his pocket.The colonel spread it on the table, and as he read the contents aloud I began to understand the meaning of Stephen's words.The document, signed by the members of the National Diet, proclaimed in vigorous language the independence of Hungary. The House of Hapsburg-Lorraine was deposed, its members banished from the country, and Hungary, as a free state, was to be governed by Kossuth."What do you think of it?" asked Stephen testily, as if we had drawn up the proclamation."'Twould be rather more to the point to know what Görgei thinks of it," the colonel replied in his cool way. "I suppose he wasn't consulted over this--waste paper?""Yes he was, and went dead against it. Kossuth came to Godolo, and there was a very stormy meeting, I can tell you.""What did Görgei say?""That we didn't want a republic, and wouldn't have one. That our soldiers were royalists, and in arms to defend the constitution--not to depose the king. In short, that Kossuth's scheme would plunge the country into misery.""It means a Russian invasion," remarked Rakoczy. "It means the loss of all the Sclavonic states, and Hungary dragooned into another Poland."My brother tossed his head contemptuously. "We would chance all that," he said. "A Magyar doesn't stop to count the odds against him; but we aren't going to spill blood like water, just to make Kossuth dictator!""We can't draw back now," I said."That's just it. We must either continue fighting, or desert our country when it has the greatest need of us.""Stuff!" said Stephen. "Were I Görgei, I would settle the matter in a month."Rakoczy bubbled over with laughter; but, seeing how much in earnest my brother was, he tried hard to keep a straight face, and asked how he proposed to do it."It's very simple," Stephen replied. "The army is devoted to Görgei, and will do what he wishes. Let him swoop down on the Austrians, win another battle--which would be easy enough--and then offer to close the war, on condition that our ancient rights are restored.""And what of this?" I asked, laying my hand on the declaration of independence."Pooh! It will be useful to the people for wrapping up parcels.""I believe the plan would work out all right," said Rakoczy thoughtfully, "but we mustn't try it. Don't you see, my boy, that it would open a civil war, and we should have to join the Austrians in crushing our own people. No, no. Rather let Hungary become an Austrian fief than that Magyar should destroy Magyar.""The other side doesn't study that.""All the more reason why we should. How would you like to help the Austrians burn down Pesth, because Louis Kossuth was inside it?"Stephen turned away with a shudder. "It seems that we must tie our own hands," he remarked gloomily."You've hit it exactly; but we can untie them to fight against the enemy. By the way, our acquaintance, Baron von Arnstein, is dead.""I'm sorry to hear that. What a blow to his pretty daughter!""And to the baroness. But come; in the general excitement I quite forgot to ask you to eat," and the colonel ordered supper to be laid immediately.We had barely finished when a clatter of hoofs was heard outside, and a soldier brought word that Captain Botskay's horses were ready."Then I must go," exclaimed my brother, "though that wretched paper has taken the heart out of my work.""Yes," said the colonel, after he had gone. "This precious document will work the cause more harm than the loss of a dozen battles."Now I would not have you suppose we bore any ill-will to Louis Kossuth and his party; but we did not belong to them, their aims were not ours, and, in addition, we believed they were grasping at more than they were able to hold.Of Kossuth's genius and marvellous eloquence, of his untiring energy, his passionate love for Hungary and hatred to Austria, I have already spoken.He caused the raw material of armies to start from the soil; he created money, manufactured guns, turned the ploughshares into swords and bayonets, stored ammunition, roused the people to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, and was, in short, the mainspring of the revolution amongst the civilians.He did not profess to be a soldier, and the taunts that he never appeared on the battle-field, except to run away, I held to be both unjust and ungenerous. His place was at the council chamber, not in the camp. Whether he was ambitious for himself, I know not; and it matters little, as the gulf between us was so vast that it could not be bridged.We, the party of the nobles and most of the old soldiers in Görgei's army, wished only to regain our ancient rights. Kossuth and his friends openly endeavoured to make Hungary into a republic. In the days of our adversity the little rift was not seen; now it suddenly became a yawning chasm.From the general to the private arose murmurs of discontent, and I verily believe that, had Görgei done what my brother proposed, he would have carried the army with him to a man.Some even to this day blame him for not exerting his strength at the critical moment; but when I think of the awful misery which must have followed, I am glad that he acted as he did. Each day now brought us news of some further success. Everywhere the Austrians fell back, until at length we heard that our centre had entered Pesth, which the enemy had evacuated on the previous day.Much to our surprise, there came with this information an order for the 9th Honveds to fall back on the capital.Rakoczy, of course, instantly set about obeying, but he was obviously ill at ease, as Görgei was still chasing the flying Austrians to Presburg."It seems to me we ought to march forward to Vienna, not back to Pesth," he exclaimed.I pointed out that the Austrians had probably left a garrison in Buda."Well? What of it?" he asked. "You don't suppose we're going to waste precious time there, while the imperialists rally? Why, all we have to do now is to keep them running till they reach Vienna. I really thought you were a better soldier than that, George.""I daresay you will find me up to the government standard," I replied, laughing at the wry face he made.Several of the officers and many of the men were by this time fit to resume duty, but numerous familiar faces were still missing when the regiment started on its way to Pesth.We found the capital filled with citizens and soldiers in a state of high glee. Now that the Austrians had really disappeared, they thought that the war was over and done with.Our regiment, which received quite an ovation from the crowd, was quartered in the barracks, and during several days we had leisure to roam about the bright and beautiful city.The red, white, and green stripes fluttered proudly from the tops of the magnificent palaces. Nobles and ladies rode by in handsome carriages drawn by fine Hungarian horses. The streets were crowded by soldiers in uniform and citizens dressed in the national costume. Every one was in the highest spirits and the utmost good-humour.One blot existed on the pleasant scene--the black and yellow flag floating from the Buda fortress (on the other side of the river), which sheltered General Hentzi with 3,000 veterans and 90 guns; but for the moment it was ignored."What a magnificent spectacle!" exclaimed Rakoczy, as we strolled one morning along the river embankments, and gazed at the blue waters of the mighty Danube. "I sometimes think there can scarcely be a finer sight in the world than the twin cities present. Look at the Blocksberg on the other side of the river.""A fine place to batter the fortress from," I said."Oh! let us forget the war a bit; we shall soon be in harness again.""Very well. We'll talk about the feats of civilization. There's a fine example!" and I pointed to that triumph of engineering skill, the noble suspension bridge built by an Englishman named Clarke; it joins the two cities by spanning the river.I had rarely seen my friend so strangely moved. His face became quite sad, his eyes were dim, and when he spoke his voice was husky."Hungary owes that, as she owes almost everything else in modern years, to as true a patriot as ever lived," he said softly. "You did not know Count Stephen Szechenyi?""Only by repute," I answered."No; his best work was done before your time. He was Hungary's great man, George. Kossuth, Batthiany, and Görgei have simply entered into the fruits of his labour. He built the foundations sure, and firm, and strong. It was in '25 that he rose in the Diet, and addressed the assembly in the Magyar tongue; till then the debates had been conducted in Latin. He toiled early and late, in season and out of season. He gave his fortune, his brains, his leisure, to his country; even his reason was sacrificed; and now, a broken and helpless wreck, he is an inmate of an Austrian lunatic asylum. Patriot and martyr, he has been cast aside like a broken reed. The people have a fresh hero now--one who can tickle their fancies and flatter their vanity by his burning eloquence--a brand-new hero, my boy. Let the old one go rot."We walked on a little way in silence, and then with his usual cheery smile my companion added,--"The fit doesn't come often, and is soon over, but it's hot while it lasts. Really, though, when I think of Count Stephen's ruined life, and how he was tossed aside at last, I feel awfully wild. Now let us turn back; there's still time for a stroll in the town before we are due at the barracks. Hallo! there's Count Beula. Pass him with a nod if you can; I don't like that fellow."However, the count, whom we had not seen since the revolt in Vienna, had no mind that we should pass unrecognized.He was dressed in the uniform of a staff officer, and walked with a military swagger that was not without a certain grace.At first he affected astonishment at seeing us in the Honved uniform, saying he thought we had joined the Austrians. Then he congratulated us on the declaration of independence, and hoped we should have a part in the capture of Buda.All this he spoke in the smoothest tones, choosing his words so that they might wound and yet afford no handle for offence, smiling when he hurt us most, pretending he thought we were pleased, and inquiring for Stephen, whom he hated, as if the two were the closest friends.I, being young, could not conceal my annoyance; but Rakoczy gave the count smile for smile, jest for jest, praise of Kossuth in return for praise of Görgei, and, in fact, as the French say, a Roland for his Oliver every time."A clever, smooth-tongued rascal," exclaimed he, when at length the count took himself off. "I wonder where he has been.""At Debreczin, most likely; he's just the sort of man to do his soldiering in the drawing-room.""I'm not so sure of that. A boaster isn't always a coward. Did you hear what he said about the taking of Buda?""Yes.""That comes from Kossuth, you may depend; and if so, all is lost.""Unless Görgei interferes.""Ah!" said the colonel, "he loves his country too much for that," and we walked on without further conversation.CHAPTER XIV.THE QUARREL WITH COUNT BEULA.One result of the declaration of independence was an inrush of foreigners: Poles, Germans, French, Italians swarmed into the country on all sides.These men were all red-hot republicans, and, except the Poles, fought not so much out of love to Hungary as from hatred to the Austrian government.Naturally they helped to swell Kossuth's party, and talked loudly of maintaining the struggle till Hungary was acknowledged an independent republic; while some, going still farther, demanded that the Russians should be expelled from Poland, and the two countries joined together.At first, however, the real dispute centered on the next step in the war. Görgei, who had returned to Pesth, pointed out that by staying to capture Buda we should lose our only opportunity of crushing the Austrians while they were still weak and feeble.Kossuth, on the other hand, had resolved that Buda should first fall; and at length the general reluctantly yielded.It was a great mistake, and we of the army felt it to be such; but a soldier's duty is to obey, and not to question.Amongst ourselves and in the city we talked hotly enough, and many passionate words were spoken in the heat of anger.On our side, none were so furious as Stephen, who had come to Pesth with his chief.He expressed his opinions freely, gaining thereby no love from the foreigners, and openly boasted that he would not be chained to the triumphal car of Louis Kossuth.Several times I begged him to moderate his language; but he only laughed, saying that, now Kossuth had made Hungary free, there was no need for him to be silent.I was the more amazed at my brother's behaviour, because it was so much out of harmony with his real character; but there seemed to be a kind of spell on him, which he was unable to shake off.One evening he was holding forth to Rakoczy, myself, and several others in a restaurant, when Count Beula entered with some friends.The count nodded to us all very politely, and, seating himself at the next table, ordered wine for his company.Whether the man really meant to create a disturbance or not I cannot say, but, filling his glass, he cried, "Here's to the Hungarian republic!"His friends drank their wine and applauded boisterously, while Stephen, springing to his feet, exclaimed in ringing tones,--"Gentlemen, this is a free country. Let us drink our own toast, 'Hungary and the constitution of '48!'""Bravo!" I said, feeling compelled to back him up, though not desiring a quarrel. "That is what we are fighting for.""And more than we shall get," added the colonel good-humouredly."Thanks to Kossuth's meddling!" said Stephen. "If he had left the general alone, we should be over the frontier by now.""The young man carries messages for Görgei," the count explained to his associates in a tone of amusement. "That is how he comes to know so much about fighting.""Even that gives more training than talking rubbish in a back room," I put in hotly, thinking of the scene at Vienna."Perhaps the count has come out of his shell since then," said Rakoczy, with a merry twinkle."It must have been to get into a safer one," exclaimed Stephen contemptuously.The quarrel, like a fire, once started, blazed furiously, and but for a shaggy-haired German, we should speedily have come to blows.He was puffing vigorously at a tremendous pipe, and, coming through the dense volume of smoke, his voice sounded like a fog-horn."Ach!" he grunted, "the quarrel is stupid; let it rest. The count has made his reputation with General Bern; he can afford to laugh. As for the boys, they seem very nice boys--ach!" and the oracle faded behind a cloud of smoke of his own construction. This was like a douche of cold water on the fire; but though the flames were put out, the embers smouldered, and presently sprang into a fresh blaze.I hardly know how it happened, but the conversation once more turned upon the siege of Buda, and Stephen maintained, quite rightly, as after events proved, that even a successful assault must be attended by immense slaughter."The boy speaks sense there!" growled the smoke-hidden Teuton. "I know Hentzi well; he's just the man to strike hard and to strike often.""Well, well. Our young friend need not be afraid," broke in the count sneeringly. "We shall find men stout-hearted enough to storm the breach when it's made.""I do not fear for myself," Stephen answered proudly."No, no," said the count, laughing insolently. "It isn't likely, since you won't be there till the danger's over. Most men are brave enough when they haven't to do the fighting.""Perhaps," said I quickly, stopping an angry outburst from Stephen, "that accounts for your coolness.""A good thrust, my boy," said the benevolent Teuton.--"Count, he had you there."Count Beula laughed again, showing his white teeth, refilled his glass, and answered brightly, "The thrust was parried before it was delivered. I have already been named as the leader of one of the storming parties whenever a breach is practicable. Kossuth's friends fight as well as talk.""They do more than their leader then," said Dobozy, who formed one of our party.The count's statement fell on me like a thunderbolt. I had thought him an arrogant, conceited fellow, having nothing of the soldier about him but his uniform and his swagger, yet here he spoke calmly of leading a forlorn hope.He saw his triumph, and glanced at us, but particularly at Stephen, with an insolent patronage for which I could have kicked him."Oh no," he said loftily, in answer to a remark from a companion; "I take no merit for it. The opportunity offered, and I accepted--nothing more. Of course our young friend has his fixed duties, otherwise we might have seen him at the breach."The words were simple and harmless, but the sneer was so open that it could not be mistaken, and my brother's face flushed crimson. "And so you shall," he cried hotly. "I cannot claim so high an honour as Count Beula, but I can and will enter the fortress as soon as he."The count smiled, drained his glass, rose to go, and then, looking round at the company, said pleasantly, "A challenge before so many witnesses must be accepted; but"--maliciously--"perhaps before Görgei's guns have made the breach our young friend will have had time to repent his hasty words."Then he and his friends went out, and left us looking at one another gloomily."What's the matter, George?" my brother asked gaily. "One would think I had been condemned to death.""Not at all," I answered, shaking off my gloom. "I was only thinking how we were deceived in that fellow. Fancy Beula at the head of a body of stormers!""It will be a night attack, so perhaps he'll lose his way in the dark," my brother answered, and later on the words acquired a strange significance."How you youngsters chatter!" exclaimed Rakoczy cheerfully. "The place hasn't been summoned yet, and Hentzi may surrender."This, of course, was possible, though not probable, and the very next day the idea had to be put aside altogether."The emperor, my august master, has entrusted to me the keys of Buda; I will return them to him alone. Meanwhile my honour and my duty command me to defend the fortress, and I will do so to the last man. Should the twin cities perish in the conflict, I declare you responsible for their ruin. I appeal to God, my right, and my sword."That was Hentzi's reply to the summons to surrender, and I could not but admire the writer of it."Brave words these," said Rakoczy, "and he's a brave man if he makes them good, though I don't exactly see why he should bombard Pesth, when our guns will be on the Blocksberg."It was the fourth of May when the answer came, and Görgei, who had established his headquarters at Schwabenberg, immediately gave orders for the beginning of the siege operations.For the next week the fighting was mainly confined to outpost engagements, in which our regiment had little share; then the batteries were opened between the Stuhl-Weissenberg and Vienna gates.This being the weakest part of the defence, Hentzi had strengthened it with twenty-five guns, which thundered away at our artillery day and night.For the greater part of another week the terrible cannonade continued, and as we lay on the hillside we saw with intense grief the beautiful twin cities wrapped in flames.During the second week we had much more of Stephen's company than usual, and I heard with regret that the general had given him leave to volunteer for the attack.He rallied me on my sober looks, saying it was no more dangerous for him than for me, as the 9th Honveds were to form one of the assaulting columns.It was the evening of May 17, and several officers, including Stephen, were watching the heavy guns at work, when Count Beula came up.The story of the quarrel in the restaurant had spread widely, and the officers waited with much curiosity to see how the meeting would go off."Well," said the count, bowing all round in his finicking way, "I hear that the breach is nearly practicable.""We shall most likely start in a few hours.""Then you have not drawn back?""My place is with the first column," said Stephen calmly."Ah! I lead the fourth. I am going now to see the general, but, as you say, we shall meet in the fortress," and he lounged off.As the count had stated, the breach was considered practicable, but the great guns thundered on, doing as much damage as was possible before the assault took place.Our regiment, being the farthest off, was to start first; but the evening wore away, and Rakoczy had not received any definite orders.Always careful of his men, he made them turn in early; but we officers sat or stood about in groups, talking over the chances of the coming assault.It was nearly midnight when Stephen, who had been sent for by the chief, returned, and we crowded eagerly round him, anxious to know what had been decided.My brother first delivered his message to the colonel; but as no secret was made of it, we soon learned that the assault was fixed for the first streak of dawn.Several of the officers now went to get an hour's rest, but Stephen and I passed the time with the colonel, who maintained a cheerful conversation.Just at the last he left us alone, and it was only then I discovered the real state of my feelings.Stephen, too, was much affected; but he carried it off well--not lightly or vaingloriously, but as a brave lad should.I thought, and think still, he was greatly to blame for getting into such a scrape; but no one could blame his conduct afterwards."Let us say farewell, dear old fellow," he whispered, "in case one of us should not return. If I fall, remember you are the head of the Botskay family, and that our father died fighting for his king.""I don't forget; and if my time has come, take this ring and portrait to the ladies at Vienna, and say a word of farewell to the fräulein."At this he threw off his grave air, and joked me pleasantly, so that when the signal was made to fall in, we took our places in quite a cheerful humour.My brother, of course, went with the stormers, while we followed closely in support.It was still dark, but we trusted the guides to keep us straight, and calculated on arriving at the breach as soon as dawn broke.No one spoke, and hardly a sound was heard as the column wound its stealthy way along.By this time the cannonade had ceased, and it seemed also as if the sorely-harassed garrison had ventured to take a short rest. Tramp, tramp, we marched along, pausing at intervals to give the rear of the column time to close up.The men with the scaling-ladders were out of sight, but we kept on in the weird and eerie darkness, expecting every moment to see the flash of the rockets, and to hear the thunder of the guns.All was, however, silent, and I wondered we had come across no sign of the other columns.I don't know why it should have done so, but the truth suddenly flashed into my mind--we had lost our way.I spoke to the colonel, and it was obvious he shared my opinion."Yes," said he quietly. "We certainly ought to be in touch with them by now. Run forward and question the guides."I did so with difficulty, but might have spared myself the trouble. They had lost their heads completely, and were painfully groping their way, now in this direction, now that.Remembering Stephen's scornful words about Count Beula losing the route in the dark, I dared not speak to my brother, but hurried back to Rakoczy.I had barely told him the story, when far on the left the guns roared out. Bright flashes of flame leaped from their muzzles, telling us that the garrison was on the alert, and that we were not at hand to help our comrades.I hardly heard the colonel's orders. My head was in a whirl. I walked or ran just when and where the others did, wondering all the time what Stephen would do.What a triumph for Count Beula!Hitherto I had feared for my brother's life; now I would have cheerfully laid down mine that he might have a chance of risking his. Guided by the flashes of light and the sound of the guns, we ran on, hoping we might yet be in time to strike one blow.The dawn was breaking; we could see our way more clearly, and were getting near enough to hear the shouts and cries of the combatants."Forward, my brave lads! forward!" I cried excitedly. "We shall do it yet!" But alas for my hopes! Suddenly there came a wave of cheering, and then, as if to herald the first pink streak of the opening day, the triumphant notes were heard of a song well known to most of us. The attack had failed. The victorious garrison were jubilantly singing the Austrian National Anthem, "Heil, unser Kaiser, heil!" as our three shattered columns hastily fled.Seeing that for the present all was lost, Rakoczy halted his column, and in shame and confusion we retraced our steps.Really it was a fortunate circumstance we had thus blundered, as the breach was not fit, and the scaling-ladders had been found too short for their purpose.Our comrades, whose losses were enormous, had struggled gallantly, and by common consent the bravest man among them was Count Beula.Everywhere we heard the most marvellous tales of his daring and recklessness. He had fought in the very front, had cheered his men again and again to the attack, and, while they fell around him in scores, had himself remained unharmed.He had not got his foot inside Buda, but his reputation was established, and it was acknowledged he had made his vaunt good.Rakoczy, who knew how terribly my brother suffered under what he deemed a disgrace, tried to cheer him."Don't fret about it, my boy," he exclaimed brightly; "'twas not your fault. The count had the luck--that's all. No one who knows you will question your courage.""It's very kind of you to speak like that," my brother replied, "but all the talking in the world won't alter the facts. Perhaps I shall feel better after the next attempt.""There's no need to try again," I said stoutly. "You did your best, and can't be blamed because the guides missed the route.""Do you think I will let a shadow of reproach rest on our name?" he said. "Don't try to turn me, George; it is useless. My mind is made up, and, with or without the general's leave, I mean to take part in the next assault."The colonel signed to me to let the subject drop, which I did, and presently we all sat down to breakfast.After the meal and an hour's sleep, Stephen said he must report himself to the general, and Rakoczy made an excuse for us to go with him."He may drop across Beula," whispered the colonel, "and if we're there the meeting will be less awkward."Rakoczy guessed rightly. We found the count near Görgei's tent, the centre of an admiring group of officers, to whom he was relating the events of the previous night.He carried himself with his usual swagger, and catching sight of us, cried jovially,--"Ah! here comes my young friend who lost his way in the dark."There was a laugh at this, which made me hot and angry; but Stephen's behaviour was, to my thinking, admirable.His face was very white, and his lips twitched a little, but he spoke quite calmly."Count Beula," he said, "permit me to add my congratulations to those of your brother officers. What you did last night will never be forgotten by this army. We are not good friends, you and I, but that doesn't prevent me from admiring your bravery. Last night I failed to keep my promise; next time I may be more successful.""Well spoken!" said Rakoczy, and a familiar voice behind us echoed the words.The second speaker was Görgei himself, who had come from his tent in time to hear what was said.The count smiled, showing his white teeth."Captain Botskay must have been terribly annoyed at finding himself out of reach of danger," he said sweetly.Here again it was impossible to take offence at his words, though they might, and most likely did, convey a false meaning.Görgei, however, came handsomely to the rescue."It would be something of a novelty," he said bluntly. "I doubt if he has been out of danger before since the war began.--But I say, colonel, somebody made a horrible mess of it last night. You'll have to put your fellows in the front next time."Rakoczy saw his chance of getting in a counter-stroke on the count, and seized it."Yes," he said, smiling pleasantly, "I was afraid the affair would fall through without us, though I hear Count Beula did not fail through want of trying.""There's praise for you, count!" cried Görgei with a broad laugh. "But we'll have another try soon, and then, if you don't succeed, I'll lead the stormers myself.--Captain Botskay, you're just in time to take a message to Pesth;" and he carried Stephen off to his tent.The colonel and I stayed awhile chatting, but not being over fond of the count's company, we took the first opportunity to go.As soon as the wounded were brought in, the gunners resumed the bombardment, while Hentzi, on his side, not only replied to our fire, but sent hundreds of shells hurtling across the water into the town.Stephen told us that the state of the city was pitiable. Whole quarters had been destroyed, and hundreds of people, not only homeless but in imminent danger of their lives, were camping on the Rakos, whither they had carried the wounded soldiers, both Hungarian and Austrian.Meanwhile Görgei thundered day and night at the walls, while the stout-hearted garrison worked like slaves, repairing the breaches, erecting breastworks, and doing everything possible to strengthen their position.All the officers who were not of Kossuth's party grumbled openly at this waste of time and loss of valuable lives; but since the fortress had to be taken, every one felt the sooner the better.During the evening of the twenty-first of May we marched to the trenches and lay on our arms, once more waiting for the signal to rush forward."The general means to get in this time," said Rakoczy. "There are nearly twenty thousand of us, all told, in the trenches.""He can't afford to risk a second repulse," remarked my brother, who, in spite of all our efforts, had insisted on joining us. "By the way, Aulich has driven the Austrians back to Presburg.""But for this folly we should be under the walls of Vienna now.""What time is the attempt to be made?" I asked."Midnight, I believe; so we've some time to wait yet."After that, relapsing into silence, we sat in the gathering gloom, each busy with his own thoughts; and sad enough mine, at least, were.
CHAPTER XIII.
A VISIT FROM STEPHEN.
The surgeon, who could do nothing further, slipped out quietly, asking as he went if he should send any one to bear me company.
I shook my head, preferring to keep that solemn watch alone.
In truth, my heart was exceedingly sad both for the dying man and for his dear ones in Vienna, who would await his return in vain.
The manner of his death also sorely grieved me. Certainly my hand had not struck him down, but Sándor had slain him to save my life.
It was foolish, perhaps, to dwell on the thought, but I could not thrust it out. I felt that but for me the baron would still have been at the head of his regiment.
The house was very still, and even the noises from the captured town failed to reach me.
The fires in the street had been extinguished, but now the glowing crimson of the setting sun flooded the room, and as its light fell athwart the bed the dying man moved restlessly.
"Let it burn!" he muttered. "All the better for us. Ready? Mind your aim! Fire!"
His eyes were wide open, gazing with intense keenness across the room.
"Ach!" he continued. "They have it now! Who? The colonel? That will stop them! Sorry--knew him--Vienna. What? Again? Steady now! Here they come!"
His brow was wet with perspiration, and, as I bent over to wipe it off, the dying glory of the sun shone full into my face.
At this the baron's excitement increased, and he muttered to himself at a great rate, while I, dipping a rag in water, bathed his forehead continually.
By degrees he became calmer; the wild light died from his eyes; he ceased to mutter, and presently looked into my face with a reasoning though puzzled expression.
"George Botskay," I said, trying to help his memory. "Don't you know? You stood my friend in Vienna."
He smiled faintly, but with intelligence, and, moving his hand, pointed to the window, as if wishing to direct my attention to something outside.
"The barricade?" I ventured questioningly.
He smiled again and dropped his hand in mine.
"Good lad," he murmured; "I saw and understood--afterwards."
"I am sorry," I began; but he checked me, saying,--
"A soldier's death, my boy. That is best--for me."
He was getting very weak now, and I heard him with great difficulty.
Some words I did not hear at all, and others only imperfectly; but I managed to understand what he wished done, and promised to do it.
His requests, poor fellow, were very simple. He desired only that the miniature of his wife, which hung round his neck, should be given to Theresa, and his massive wedding-ring to the baroness.
As I gently drew the latter from his finger, his mind wandered once more, and he talked to himself of bygone days and events of which I knew nothing.
From the delights of peace he passed to the horrors of the battlefield, and then right back to the time of his childhood, when he was a happy, careless boy at his mother's side.
Here he ended, and, rather to my surprise, just as the last gleam of the setting sun faded, he died with the sacred name of "mother" on his lips.
Taking a long look at the face now so calm and still, I covered it reverently, and went away on tiptoe, as if the noise of my footsteps could disturb the dead.
Outside I met the colonel, and returned with him to the room.
"Poor fellow!" he exclaimed, after gazing a moment at the white face. "What a blow for the pretty fräulein! I'll warrant he made an idol of her. War's an awful thing, George, when you come to strip the gilding off. I would not like to have the responsibility of one on my shoulders, though I'm a soldier born and bred. How many thousands of widows and orphans are cursing us at this very moment! Well, well; we must give the baron a decent funeral in the morning," and he led me away.
The town seemed very quiet after the tremendous uproar of the day.
The fires had been put out; the Austrians were in retreat; and our army was chasing them into that very mountain district where Görgei had led us in January.
Our own regiment, having suffered so severely, was left behind, and I really felt glad of the change.
The colonel had taken up his quarters in a decent house, and there at supper we were joined by the surviving officers of the regiment.
Several of the absentees were dead, but the majority were in hospital, and, though badly wounded, expected to recover.
"Just like our luck!" said the colonel, as we sat chatting over what had happened. "We took the very strongest street in the town. The other fellows had a pleasure jaunt, compared with our march."
"Who was the Austrian officer?" asked a sublieutenant. "I hope he escaped; he was a splendid chap."
"That was Baron von Arnstein," the colonel replied. "I'm sorry to say he was killed. I mean to bury him to-morrow with military honours."
"He deserves all the respect we can show him," Dobozy chimed in.
"There's one thing puzzles me, colonel," I said, "and that is, how you escaped. I saw you fall, and thought you were dead."
For the first time that night Rakoczy's face lit up with his genial smile.
"I carry a bullet-catcher," he answered pleasantly; and taking a massive gold watch from his breast-pocket, he handed it to me.
"They've spoiled it as a time-keeper," he continued, "but it will come in as a curiosity."
The watch had a double cover, and was enclosed in a bag of thick chamois leather, a part of which had been forced into the case by the impact of the bullet.
The case itself was badly battered and the works smashed.
I passed it to the other fellows, who examined it in profound astonishment and warmly congratulated the colonel on his marvellous escape.
"Yes," said he brightly; "but for that watch Görgei might have looked for a new colonel."
"We prefer to keep our old one, though he does wear a watch that won't tell the time," I remarked.
Dobozy asked if it could be mended, but the colonel said he preferred keeping it as it was, which I certainly should have done.
We did not sit long, having to rise early; and in the morning, as soon as it could be managed, Rakoczy turned out the regiment to pay the last honours to our valiant opponent.
We buried him in the Catholic cemetery, where I made arrangements for a handsome stone to be erected in his memory. It stands there to this day.
When all was over, the men marched back to the strains of martial music, while I felt as sorrowful as if we had been assisting to bury a valued friend.
Fortunately, a soldier on active service has little leisure in which to indulge his grief, and thus it was with me now.
So greatly had the regiment lost in officers that the survivors were compelled to do more than double duty, and for several days I had not an hour to myself.
One event, though not exactly bearing on my story, must be chronicled, since it shows the generosity of Görgei's nature.
During the fierce fighting on the ninth of April the Austrian general, Gatz, had fallen while at the head of his men, and our chief, anxious to honour the memory of a gallant adversary, did on a large scale what we had done for Von Arnstein, and accorded him a magnificent military funeral.
The display was of a most imposing description, and when the body of the brave Austrian had been laid to rest, the ceremony was concluded by the discharge of a hundred guns.
Meanwhile, grave events were taking place. Just as the battle of Isaszeg had cut off the Austrian right wing, so now their left was completely broken up, and it became plain that Windischgratz must evacuate Pesth.
"Another stroke like the last," said Rakoczy one evening as we sat chatting in his room, "and the thing will be done."
"Unless Kossuth's party should try to drive too hard a bargain."
"Oh no," replied the colonel cheerfully. "The Austrians know exactly what we want. The emperor has only to be crowned King of Hungary, and swear to restore our ancient rights. He will do that as soon as our army appears under the walls of Vienna."
"It isn't much, especially when--"
A loud banging at the door cut the sentence short, and in walked my brother, looking flushed and excited.
Neither of us had seen him since the meeting at Isaszeg, and we had not the faintest notion he was in Waitzen.
He shook hands with us warmly, drank a glass of wine which Rakoczy poured out, and sat down.
"Care to turn in?" asked the colonel. "My bed's doing nothing, and you look tired."
Stephen shook his head. "I'm off in a couple of hours; only waiting to rest my horse."
"There's nothing wrong, I hope?"
"Nothing wrong!" exclaimed my brother. "Everything's wrong! Haven't you heard the news from Debreczin? Here, read this!" and he drew a printed paper from his pocket.
The colonel spread it on the table, and as he read the contents aloud I began to understand the meaning of Stephen's words.
The document, signed by the members of the National Diet, proclaimed in vigorous language the independence of Hungary. The House of Hapsburg-Lorraine was deposed, its members banished from the country, and Hungary, as a free state, was to be governed by Kossuth.
"What do you think of it?" asked Stephen testily, as if we had drawn up the proclamation.
"'Twould be rather more to the point to know what Görgei thinks of it," the colonel replied in his cool way. "I suppose he wasn't consulted over this--waste paper?"
"Yes he was, and went dead against it. Kossuth came to Godolo, and there was a very stormy meeting, I can tell you."
"What did Görgei say?"
"That we didn't want a republic, and wouldn't have one. That our soldiers were royalists, and in arms to defend the constitution--not to depose the king. In short, that Kossuth's scheme would plunge the country into misery."
"It means a Russian invasion," remarked Rakoczy. "It means the loss of all the Sclavonic states, and Hungary dragooned into another Poland."
My brother tossed his head contemptuously. "We would chance all that," he said. "A Magyar doesn't stop to count the odds against him; but we aren't going to spill blood like water, just to make Kossuth dictator!"
"We can't draw back now," I said.
"That's just it. We must either continue fighting, or desert our country when it has the greatest need of us."
"Stuff!" said Stephen. "Were I Görgei, I would settle the matter in a month."
Rakoczy bubbled over with laughter; but, seeing how much in earnest my brother was, he tried hard to keep a straight face, and asked how he proposed to do it.
"It's very simple," Stephen replied. "The army is devoted to Görgei, and will do what he wishes. Let him swoop down on the Austrians, win another battle--which would be easy enough--and then offer to close the war, on condition that our ancient rights are restored."
"And what of this?" I asked, laying my hand on the declaration of independence.
"Pooh! It will be useful to the people for wrapping up parcels."
"I believe the plan would work out all right," said Rakoczy thoughtfully, "but we mustn't try it. Don't you see, my boy, that it would open a civil war, and we should have to join the Austrians in crushing our own people. No, no. Rather let Hungary become an Austrian fief than that Magyar should destroy Magyar."
"The other side doesn't study that."
"All the more reason why we should. How would you like to help the Austrians burn down Pesth, because Louis Kossuth was inside it?"
Stephen turned away with a shudder. "It seems that we must tie our own hands," he remarked gloomily.
"You've hit it exactly; but we can untie them to fight against the enemy. By the way, our acquaintance, Baron von Arnstein, is dead."
"I'm sorry to hear that. What a blow to his pretty daughter!"
"And to the baroness. But come; in the general excitement I quite forgot to ask you to eat," and the colonel ordered supper to be laid immediately.
We had barely finished when a clatter of hoofs was heard outside, and a soldier brought word that Captain Botskay's horses were ready.
"Then I must go," exclaimed my brother, "though that wretched paper has taken the heart out of my work."
"Yes," said the colonel, after he had gone. "This precious document will work the cause more harm than the loss of a dozen battles."
Now I would not have you suppose we bore any ill-will to Louis Kossuth and his party; but we did not belong to them, their aims were not ours, and, in addition, we believed they were grasping at more than they were able to hold.
Of Kossuth's genius and marvellous eloquence, of his untiring energy, his passionate love for Hungary and hatred to Austria, I have already spoken.
He caused the raw material of armies to start from the soil; he created money, manufactured guns, turned the ploughshares into swords and bayonets, stored ammunition, roused the people to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, and was, in short, the mainspring of the revolution amongst the civilians.
He did not profess to be a soldier, and the taunts that he never appeared on the battle-field, except to run away, I held to be both unjust and ungenerous. His place was at the council chamber, not in the camp. Whether he was ambitious for himself, I know not; and it matters little, as the gulf between us was so vast that it could not be bridged.
We, the party of the nobles and most of the old soldiers in Görgei's army, wished only to regain our ancient rights. Kossuth and his friends openly endeavoured to make Hungary into a republic. In the days of our adversity the little rift was not seen; now it suddenly became a yawning chasm.
From the general to the private arose murmurs of discontent, and I verily believe that, had Görgei done what my brother proposed, he would have carried the army with him to a man.
Some even to this day blame him for not exerting his strength at the critical moment; but when I think of the awful misery which must have followed, I am glad that he acted as he did. Each day now brought us news of some further success. Everywhere the Austrians fell back, until at length we heard that our centre had entered Pesth, which the enemy had evacuated on the previous day.
Much to our surprise, there came with this information an order for the 9th Honveds to fall back on the capital.
Rakoczy, of course, instantly set about obeying, but he was obviously ill at ease, as Görgei was still chasing the flying Austrians to Presburg.
"It seems to me we ought to march forward to Vienna, not back to Pesth," he exclaimed.
I pointed out that the Austrians had probably left a garrison in Buda.
"Well? What of it?" he asked. "You don't suppose we're going to waste precious time there, while the imperialists rally? Why, all we have to do now is to keep them running till they reach Vienna. I really thought you were a better soldier than that, George."
"I daresay you will find me up to the government standard," I replied, laughing at the wry face he made.
Several of the officers and many of the men were by this time fit to resume duty, but numerous familiar faces were still missing when the regiment started on its way to Pesth.
We found the capital filled with citizens and soldiers in a state of high glee. Now that the Austrians had really disappeared, they thought that the war was over and done with.
Our regiment, which received quite an ovation from the crowd, was quartered in the barracks, and during several days we had leisure to roam about the bright and beautiful city.
The red, white, and green stripes fluttered proudly from the tops of the magnificent palaces. Nobles and ladies rode by in handsome carriages drawn by fine Hungarian horses. The streets were crowded by soldiers in uniform and citizens dressed in the national costume. Every one was in the highest spirits and the utmost good-humour.
One blot existed on the pleasant scene--the black and yellow flag floating from the Buda fortress (on the other side of the river), which sheltered General Hentzi with 3,000 veterans and 90 guns; but for the moment it was ignored.
"What a magnificent spectacle!" exclaimed Rakoczy, as we strolled one morning along the river embankments, and gazed at the blue waters of the mighty Danube. "I sometimes think there can scarcely be a finer sight in the world than the twin cities present. Look at the Blocksberg on the other side of the river."
"A fine place to batter the fortress from," I said.
"Oh! let us forget the war a bit; we shall soon be in harness again."
"Very well. We'll talk about the feats of civilization. There's a fine example!" and I pointed to that triumph of engineering skill, the noble suspension bridge built by an Englishman named Clarke; it joins the two cities by spanning the river.
I had rarely seen my friend so strangely moved. His face became quite sad, his eyes were dim, and when he spoke his voice was husky.
"Hungary owes that, as she owes almost everything else in modern years, to as true a patriot as ever lived," he said softly. "You did not know Count Stephen Szechenyi?"
"Only by repute," I answered.
"No; his best work was done before your time. He was Hungary's great man, George. Kossuth, Batthiany, and Görgei have simply entered into the fruits of his labour. He built the foundations sure, and firm, and strong. It was in '25 that he rose in the Diet, and addressed the assembly in the Magyar tongue; till then the debates had been conducted in Latin. He toiled early and late, in season and out of season. He gave his fortune, his brains, his leisure, to his country; even his reason was sacrificed; and now, a broken and helpless wreck, he is an inmate of an Austrian lunatic asylum. Patriot and martyr, he has been cast aside like a broken reed. The people have a fresh hero now--one who can tickle their fancies and flatter their vanity by his burning eloquence--a brand-new hero, my boy. Let the old one go rot."
We walked on a little way in silence, and then with his usual cheery smile my companion added,--
"The fit doesn't come often, and is soon over, but it's hot while it lasts. Really, though, when I think of Count Stephen's ruined life, and how he was tossed aside at last, I feel awfully wild. Now let us turn back; there's still time for a stroll in the town before we are due at the barracks. Hallo! there's Count Beula. Pass him with a nod if you can; I don't like that fellow."
However, the count, whom we had not seen since the revolt in Vienna, had no mind that we should pass unrecognized.
He was dressed in the uniform of a staff officer, and walked with a military swagger that was not without a certain grace.
At first he affected astonishment at seeing us in the Honved uniform, saying he thought we had joined the Austrians. Then he congratulated us on the declaration of independence, and hoped we should have a part in the capture of Buda.
All this he spoke in the smoothest tones, choosing his words so that they might wound and yet afford no handle for offence, smiling when he hurt us most, pretending he thought we were pleased, and inquiring for Stephen, whom he hated, as if the two were the closest friends.
I, being young, could not conceal my annoyance; but Rakoczy gave the count smile for smile, jest for jest, praise of Kossuth in return for praise of Görgei, and, in fact, as the French say, a Roland for his Oliver every time.
"A clever, smooth-tongued rascal," exclaimed he, when at length the count took himself off. "I wonder where he has been."
"At Debreczin, most likely; he's just the sort of man to do his soldiering in the drawing-room."
"I'm not so sure of that. A boaster isn't always a coward. Did you hear what he said about the taking of Buda?"
"Yes."
"That comes from Kossuth, you may depend; and if so, all is lost."
"Unless Görgei interferes."
"Ah!" said the colonel, "he loves his country too much for that," and we walked on without further conversation.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE QUARREL WITH COUNT BEULA.
One result of the declaration of independence was an inrush of foreigners: Poles, Germans, French, Italians swarmed into the country on all sides.
These men were all red-hot republicans, and, except the Poles, fought not so much out of love to Hungary as from hatred to the Austrian government.
Naturally they helped to swell Kossuth's party, and talked loudly of maintaining the struggle till Hungary was acknowledged an independent republic; while some, going still farther, demanded that the Russians should be expelled from Poland, and the two countries joined together.
At first, however, the real dispute centered on the next step in the war. Görgei, who had returned to Pesth, pointed out that by staying to capture Buda we should lose our only opportunity of crushing the Austrians while they were still weak and feeble.
Kossuth, on the other hand, had resolved that Buda should first fall; and at length the general reluctantly yielded.
It was a great mistake, and we of the army felt it to be such; but a soldier's duty is to obey, and not to question.
Amongst ourselves and in the city we talked hotly enough, and many passionate words were spoken in the heat of anger.
On our side, none were so furious as Stephen, who had come to Pesth with his chief.
He expressed his opinions freely, gaining thereby no love from the foreigners, and openly boasted that he would not be chained to the triumphal car of Louis Kossuth.
Several times I begged him to moderate his language; but he only laughed, saying that, now Kossuth had made Hungary free, there was no need for him to be silent.
I was the more amazed at my brother's behaviour, because it was so much out of harmony with his real character; but there seemed to be a kind of spell on him, which he was unable to shake off.
One evening he was holding forth to Rakoczy, myself, and several others in a restaurant, when Count Beula entered with some friends.
The count nodded to us all very politely, and, seating himself at the next table, ordered wine for his company.
Whether the man really meant to create a disturbance or not I cannot say, but, filling his glass, he cried, "Here's to the Hungarian republic!"
His friends drank their wine and applauded boisterously, while Stephen, springing to his feet, exclaimed in ringing tones,--
"Gentlemen, this is a free country. Let us drink our own toast, 'Hungary and the constitution of '48!'"
"Bravo!" I said, feeling compelled to back him up, though not desiring a quarrel. "That is what we are fighting for."
"And more than we shall get," added the colonel good-humouredly.
"Thanks to Kossuth's meddling!" said Stephen. "If he had left the general alone, we should be over the frontier by now."
"The young man carries messages for Görgei," the count explained to his associates in a tone of amusement. "That is how he comes to know so much about fighting."
"Even that gives more training than talking rubbish in a back room," I put in hotly, thinking of the scene at Vienna.
"Perhaps the count has come out of his shell since then," said Rakoczy, with a merry twinkle.
"It must have been to get into a safer one," exclaimed Stephen contemptuously.
The quarrel, like a fire, once started, blazed furiously, and but for a shaggy-haired German, we should speedily have come to blows.
He was puffing vigorously at a tremendous pipe, and, coming through the dense volume of smoke, his voice sounded like a fog-horn.
"Ach!" he grunted, "the quarrel is stupid; let it rest. The count has made his reputation with General Bern; he can afford to laugh. As for the boys, they seem very nice boys--ach!" and the oracle faded behind a cloud of smoke of his own construction. This was like a douche of cold water on the fire; but though the flames were put out, the embers smouldered, and presently sprang into a fresh blaze.
I hardly know how it happened, but the conversation once more turned upon the siege of Buda, and Stephen maintained, quite rightly, as after events proved, that even a successful assault must be attended by immense slaughter.
"The boy speaks sense there!" growled the smoke-hidden Teuton. "I know Hentzi well; he's just the man to strike hard and to strike often."
"Well, well. Our young friend need not be afraid," broke in the count sneeringly. "We shall find men stout-hearted enough to storm the breach when it's made."
"I do not fear for myself," Stephen answered proudly.
"No, no," said the count, laughing insolently. "It isn't likely, since you won't be there till the danger's over. Most men are brave enough when they haven't to do the fighting."
"Perhaps," said I quickly, stopping an angry outburst from Stephen, "that accounts for your coolness."
"A good thrust, my boy," said the benevolent Teuton.--"Count, he had you there."
Count Beula laughed again, showing his white teeth, refilled his glass, and answered brightly, "The thrust was parried before it was delivered. I have already been named as the leader of one of the storming parties whenever a breach is practicable. Kossuth's friends fight as well as talk."
"They do more than their leader then," said Dobozy, who formed one of our party.
The count's statement fell on me like a thunderbolt. I had thought him an arrogant, conceited fellow, having nothing of the soldier about him but his uniform and his swagger, yet here he spoke calmly of leading a forlorn hope.
He saw his triumph, and glanced at us, but particularly at Stephen, with an insolent patronage for which I could have kicked him.
"Oh no," he said loftily, in answer to a remark from a companion; "I take no merit for it. The opportunity offered, and I accepted--nothing more. Of course our young friend has his fixed duties, otherwise we might have seen him at the breach."
The words were simple and harmless, but the sneer was so open that it could not be mistaken, and my brother's face flushed crimson. "And so you shall," he cried hotly. "I cannot claim so high an honour as Count Beula, but I can and will enter the fortress as soon as he."
The count smiled, drained his glass, rose to go, and then, looking round at the company, said pleasantly, "A challenge before so many witnesses must be accepted; but"--maliciously--"perhaps before Görgei's guns have made the breach our young friend will have had time to repent his hasty words."
Then he and his friends went out, and left us looking at one another gloomily.
"What's the matter, George?" my brother asked gaily. "One would think I had been condemned to death."
"Not at all," I answered, shaking off my gloom. "I was only thinking how we were deceived in that fellow. Fancy Beula at the head of a body of stormers!"
"It will be a night attack, so perhaps he'll lose his way in the dark," my brother answered, and later on the words acquired a strange significance.
"How you youngsters chatter!" exclaimed Rakoczy cheerfully. "The place hasn't been summoned yet, and Hentzi may surrender."
This, of course, was possible, though not probable, and the very next day the idea had to be put aside altogether.
"The emperor, my august master, has entrusted to me the keys of Buda; I will return them to him alone. Meanwhile my honour and my duty command me to defend the fortress, and I will do so to the last man. Should the twin cities perish in the conflict, I declare you responsible for their ruin. I appeal to God, my right, and my sword."
That was Hentzi's reply to the summons to surrender, and I could not but admire the writer of it.
"Brave words these," said Rakoczy, "and he's a brave man if he makes them good, though I don't exactly see why he should bombard Pesth, when our guns will be on the Blocksberg."
It was the fourth of May when the answer came, and Görgei, who had established his headquarters at Schwabenberg, immediately gave orders for the beginning of the siege operations.
For the next week the fighting was mainly confined to outpost engagements, in which our regiment had little share; then the batteries were opened between the Stuhl-Weissenberg and Vienna gates.
This being the weakest part of the defence, Hentzi had strengthened it with twenty-five guns, which thundered away at our artillery day and night.
For the greater part of another week the terrible cannonade continued, and as we lay on the hillside we saw with intense grief the beautiful twin cities wrapped in flames.
During the second week we had much more of Stephen's company than usual, and I heard with regret that the general had given him leave to volunteer for the attack.
He rallied me on my sober looks, saying it was no more dangerous for him than for me, as the 9th Honveds were to form one of the assaulting columns.
It was the evening of May 17, and several officers, including Stephen, were watching the heavy guns at work, when Count Beula came up.
The story of the quarrel in the restaurant had spread widely, and the officers waited with much curiosity to see how the meeting would go off.
"Well," said the count, bowing all round in his finicking way, "I hear that the breach is nearly practicable."
"We shall most likely start in a few hours."
"Then you have not drawn back?"
"My place is with the first column," said Stephen calmly.
"Ah! I lead the fourth. I am going now to see the general, but, as you say, we shall meet in the fortress," and he lounged off.
As the count had stated, the breach was considered practicable, but the great guns thundered on, doing as much damage as was possible before the assault took place.
Our regiment, being the farthest off, was to start first; but the evening wore away, and Rakoczy had not received any definite orders.
Always careful of his men, he made them turn in early; but we officers sat or stood about in groups, talking over the chances of the coming assault.
It was nearly midnight when Stephen, who had been sent for by the chief, returned, and we crowded eagerly round him, anxious to know what had been decided.
My brother first delivered his message to the colonel; but as no secret was made of it, we soon learned that the assault was fixed for the first streak of dawn.
Several of the officers now went to get an hour's rest, but Stephen and I passed the time with the colonel, who maintained a cheerful conversation.
Just at the last he left us alone, and it was only then I discovered the real state of my feelings.
Stephen, too, was much affected; but he carried it off well--not lightly or vaingloriously, but as a brave lad should.
I thought, and think still, he was greatly to blame for getting into such a scrape; but no one could blame his conduct afterwards.
"Let us say farewell, dear old fellow," he whispered, "in case one of us should not return. If I fall, remember you are the head of the Botskay family, and that our father died fighting for his king."
"I don't forget; and if my time has come, take this ring and portrait to the ladies at Vienna, and say a word of farewell to the fräulein."
At this he threw off his grave air, and joked me pleasantly, so that when the signal was made to fall in, we took our places in quite a cheerful humour.
My brother, of course, went with the stormers, while we followed closely in support.
It was still dark, but we trusted the guides to keep us straight, and calculated on arriving at the breach as soon as dawn broke.
No one spoke, and hardly a sound was heard as the column wound its stealthy way along.
By this time the cannonade had ceased, and it seemed also as if the sorely-harassed garrison had ventured to take a short rest. Tramp, tramp, we marched along, pausing at intervals to give the rear of the column time to close up.
The men with the scaling-ladders were out of sight, but we kept on in the weird and eerie darkness, expecting every moment to see the flash of the rockets, and to hear the thunder of the guns.
All was, however, silent, and I wondered we had come across no sign of the other columns.
I don't know why it should have done so, but the truth suddenly flashed into my mind--we had lost our way.
I spoke to the colonel, and it was obvious he shared my opinion.
"Yes," said he quietly. "We certainly ought to be in touch with them by now. Run forward and question the guides."
I did so with difficulty, but might have spared myself the trouble. They had lost their heads completely, and were painfully groping their way, now in this direction, now that.
Remembering Stephen's scornful words about Count Beula losing the route in the dark, I dared not speak to my brother, but hurried back to Rakoczy.
I had barely told him the story, when far on the left the guns roared out. Bright flashes of flame leaped from their muzzles, telling us that the garrison was on the alert, and that we were not at hand to help our comrades.
I hardly heard the colonel's orders. My head was in a whirl. I walked or ran just when and where the others did, wondering all the time what Stephen would do.
What a triumph for Count Beula!
Hitherto I had feared for my brother's life; now I would have cheerfully laid down mine that he might have a chance of risking his. Guided by the flashes of light and the sound of the guns, we ran on, hoping we might yet be in time to strike one blow.
The dawn was breaking; we could see our way more clearly, and were getting near enough to hear the shouts and cries of the combatants.
"Forward, my brave lads! forward!" I cried excitedly. "We shall do it yet!" But alas for my hopes! Suddenly there came a wave of cheering, and then, as if to herald the first pink streak of the opening day, the triumphant notes were heard of a song well known to most of us. The attack had failed. The victorious garrison were jubilantly singing the Austrian National Anthem, "Heil, unser Kaiser, heil!" as our three shattered columns hastily fled.
Seeing that for the present all was lost, Rakoczy halted his column, and in shame and confusion we retraced our steps.
Really it was a fortunate circumstance we had thus blundered, as the breach was not fit, and the scaling-ladders had been found too short for their purpose.
Our comrades, whose losses were enormous, had struggled gallantly, and by common consent the bravest man among them was Count Beula.
Everywhere we heard the most marvellous tales of his daring and recklessness. He had fought in the very front, had cheered his men again and again to the attack, and, while they fell around him in scores, had himself remained unharmed.
He had not got his foot inside Buda, but his reputation was established, and it was acknowledged he had made his vaunt good.
Rakoczy, who knew how terribly my brother suffered under what he deemed a disgrace, tried to cheer him.
"Don't fret about it, my boy," he exclaimed brightly; "'twas not your fault. The count had the luck--that's all. No one who knows you will question your courage."
"It's very kind of you to speak like that," my brother replied, "but all the talking in the world won't alter the facts. Perhaps I shall feel better after the next attempt."
"There's no need to try again," I said stoutly. "You did your best, and can't be blamed because the guides missed the route."
"Do you think I will let a shadow of reproach rest on our name?" he said. "Don't try to turn me, George; it is useless. My mind is made up, and, with or without the general's leave, I mean to take part in the next assault."
The colonel signed to me to let the subject drop, which I did, and presently we all sat down to breakfast.
After the meal and an hour's sleep, Stephen said he must report himself to the general, and Rakoczy made an excuse for us to go with him.
"He may drop across Beula," whispered the colonel, "and if we're there the meeting will be less awkward."
Rakoczy guessed rightly. We found the count near Görgei's tent, the centre of an admiring group of officers, to whom he was relating the events of the previous night.
He carried himself with his usual swagger, and catching sight of us, cried jovially,--
"Ah! here comes my young friend who lost his way in the dark."
There was a laugh at this, which made me hot and angry; but Stephen's behaviour was, to my thinking, admirable.
His face was very white, and his lips twitched a little, but he spoke quite calmly.
"Count Beula," he said, "permit me to add my congratulations to those of your brother officers. What you did last night will never be forgotten by this army. We are not good friends, you and I, but that doesn't prevent me from admiring your bravery. Last night I failed to keep my promise; next time I may be more successful."
"Well spoken!" said Rakoczy, and a familiar voice behind us echoed the words.
The second speaker was Görgei himself, who had come from his tent in time to hear what was said.
The count smiled, showing his white teeth.
"Captain Botskay must have been terribly annoyed at finding himself out of reach of danger," he said sweetly.
Here again it was impossible to take offence at his words, though they might, and most likely did, convey a false meaning.
Görgei, however, came handsomely to the rescue.
"It would be something of a novelty," he said bluntly. "I doubt if he has been out of danger before since the war began.--But I say, colonel, somebody made a horrible mess of it last night. You'll have to put your fellows in the front next time."
Rakoczy saw his chance of getting in a counter-stroke on the count, and seized it.
"Yes," he said, smiling pleasantly, "I was afraid the affair would fall through without us, though I hear Count Beula did not fail through want of trying."
"There's praise for you, count!" cried Görgei with a broad laugh. "But we'll have another try soon, and then, if you don't succeed, I'll lead the stormers myself.--Captain Botskay, you're just in time to take a message to Pesth;" and he carried Stephen off to his tent.
The colonel and I stayed awhile chatting, but not being over fond of the count's company, we took the first opportunity to go.
As soon as the wounded were brought in, the gunners resumed the bombardment, while Hentzi, on his side, not only replied to our fire, but sent hundreds of shells hurtling across the water into the town.
Stephen told us that the state of the city was pitiable. Whole quarters had been destroyed, and hundreds of people, not only homeless but in imminent danger of their lives, were camping on the Rakos, whither they had carried the wounded soldiers, both Hungarian and Austrian.
Meanwhile Görgei thundered day and night at the walls, while the stout-hearted garrison worked like slaves, repairing the breaches, erecting breastworks, and doing everything possible to strengthen their position.
All the officers who were not of Kossuth's party grumbled openly at this waste of time and loss of valuable lives; but since the fortress had to be taken, every one felt the sooner the better.
During the evening of the twenty-first of May we marched to the trenches and lay on our arms, once more waiting for the signal to rush forward.
"The general means to get in this time," said Rakoczy. "There are nearly twenty thousand of us, all told, in the trenches."
"He can't afford to risk a second repulse," remarked my brother, who, in spite of all our efforts, had insisted on joining us. "By the way, Aulich has driven the Austrians back to Presburg."
"But for this folly we should be under the walls of Vienna now."
"What time is the attempt to be made?" I asked.
"Midnight, I believe; so we've some time to wait yet."
After that, relapsing into silence, we sat in the gathering gloom, each busy with his own thoughts; and sad enough mine, at least, were.