The Red, White, and Green Part 45

"Von Theyer!" rose to my lips as, sitting his horse with a natural gracefulness, the former rebel rode straight at me.

From that moment I lost sight of the general conflict.

Round us rose the cries and groans of wounded men, the cheers and counter-cheers of the combatants, the sound of clashing swords; but to all I gave but a pa.s.sing thought.

This Von Theyer, who by some means--probably reckless bravery--had already risen high in the Austrian service, meant to kill me.

His deadly purpose shone in his eyes, and it was obvious he expected to have an easy task.

However, though he was by far the better master of the sword, I knew the more of horsemanship, and by swerving aside at the proper moment, caused his stroke to fail.

Before he recovered I had p.r.i.c.ked him in the arm. It was a slight wound, but it drew blood and made him angry.

This was all in my favour, as he lost his caution, and, throwing away the advantage of his superior skill, attacked furiously.

Again and again I avoided his weapon almost by a miracle; but at last I made a fierce cut which he failed to parry, and my sword slashed him right across the face.

He threw up his hands with a cry of pain, falling in a heap on his horse's back.

At the same instant a shout of alarm was raised; the hussars in advance, wheeling about, came dashing back, separating me from Von Theyer.

Since I had left Gorgei the aspect of the battle had entirely changed.

While we had broken the Austrian battalions, our centre, fearfully weakened by a heavy cannonade from twenty-four guns, and furiously a.s.sailed by two brigades on its right flank, had given way.

Worse still, the Russian general, seeing that the tide was turning, sent a splendid body of cuira.s.siers and two field-batteries to change the retreat into rout.

It was the rapid approach of these famous hors.e.m.e.n that made us turn back.

The colonel was angry, but he could not hope to pit his broken regiment successfully against the cuira.s.siers, while a prompt retreat might enable him to cover the flight of the infantry.

So he gave the word, and we retired in good order, but at a gallop.

Meanwhile the Austrian gunners received their allies with a roar of welcome, and the cuira.s.siers in glittering helmets and breastplates swept proudly on.

With a message from the colonel, I made the best of my way to the chief, who as usual was in the thick of the fight, risking his life as freely as the humblest soldier.

But the day was lost. We were outnumbered both in men and guns, and the Russian division had converted a possible victory into a disastrous defeat.

For a time we made a desperate attempt to hold the village of Pered, but it was simply throwing men's lives away to no purpose; and at length the general, who, however much he objected to be beaten, did not believe in knocking his head against the wall, issued orders for a retreat.

"Find General Klapka," said he to me, "and tell him to withdraw his men across the Waag; but he must do his best to hold the bridges. If he doesn't, the enemy will chase us back to Pesth without a stop."

I turned my horse's head, and dashed off along the line of fire; but time being precious, I could not afford to go a long way round.

CHAPTER XVII.

_THE WOUNDING OF GoRGEI._

"All right, Sandor. It's only a pin-p.r.i.c.k; but I've had it bandaged, though the surgeon said 'twas a waste of lint. Rub the horse down, and give it a good feed; there may be fresh work soon."

The battle was over. The army, including Klapka's division, had retired beyond the river, though we still held possession of the bridges. I had just returned from my dangerous ride, and the worthy Sandor had given me up for lost.

I was dead tired, and wrapping myself up cosily, lay down, expecting to fall asleep instantly.

In this I was wrong, for though my eyes closed, I could not make my brain rest.

I thought of my chivalrous brother lying wrapped in his country's flag in the citadel at Buda; I thought, too, of the gallant Rakoczy at Pesth, and wished the old regiment had been in the field that day; but, most of all, my mind dwelt upon the Austrian leader with whom I had been in deadly conflict.

The hussars had retreated too quickly for me to find out if I had killed him.

Somehow I hoped the poor fellow was not dead; though, had the case been reversed, I suppose he would not have wasted a thought on me.

From Von Theyer my mind naturally drifted to the beautiful Theresa, and I wondered how she had borne the news of her bereavement.

At least it would be some comfort when I could restore the baron's memento, and tell how we had buried him in the quiet little churchyard.

My heart grew sadder and sadder as I lingered over the details of this cruel war, which the day's fighting conclusively showed we could not carry to a successful issue.

It was not that a single defeat caused me to despair, but I saw clearly that we had thrown away our chance of victory.

Against the Austrians alone we might even now recover our position, but the arrival of the Russians had made the struggle hopeless.

Even united we should fail now, and we were not united. Envy, jealousy, and distrust had crept into our councils, and every day the breach between the two parties became wider.

Not that I would have you imagine there was more than one party in Gorgei's army. We were all of one mind; but the general was hampered by the orders of the Diet, and in addition had to shape his course by the movements of Dembinski.

Thinking over these things, I lay awake till the dawn, when I at last managed to fall into a sound and refreshing slumber.

The days following our defeat at Waag were days of extreme misery. All the time we fell back, pressed by Haynau's victorious troops and their Russian allies, till we reached Raab.

Even here Gorgei could do no more than make a feint of defending the place, which delayed the enemy two or three days, while our main army pushed on towards Waitzen.

I now understood more clearly the kind of life Stephen had enjoyed.

Gorgei was here, there, and everywhere, directing and encouraging the men, and of course we were with him.

We slept where and when we could, and did not expect dainties--to any great extent, at least--at meal-times. Our banquets were for the most part consumed in the saddle, and consisted of bread or biscuit, cheese, and a drink of wine.

Occasionally the cheese went astray and the wine was missing; then we munched our bread thankfully, and praised the sweetness of the water.

Gorgei's spirits never once gave way, though I believe that from the hour of turning our backs on the river Waag he knew in his heart the contest was hopeless.

Careful of his men, he was utterly reckless of his own safety, and several times during the retreat his staff were within an ace of being cut off.