The Slaves of the Padishah Part 22

This happened at the very moment when Ismail Pasha was leading the Osmanlis to the tenth a.s.sault.

The leader of the Christian host, Montecuculi, no sooner perceived Kiuprile's movement, than he called together his generals and gave them to understand that if they awaited Kiuprile where they stood they would be irretrievably lost.

They were just then loading their guns with their last charge.

Many faces grew pale at this announcement, and a deep silence followed Montecuculi's words. Yet his words were the words of valour. Three heroes had been in his army--one of them, the French general, the Marquis de Brianzon, had already fallen; the other two, still present, were the German general, Toggendorf, and the Hungarian cavalry officer, Petnehazy.

At the commander-in-chief's announcement the faces of both remained unmoved, and Toggendorf, with the utmost _sang-froid_ came forward: "If we must choose between two deaths," said he, "why not rather choose death by advancing than death in flight?"

"Not so, my lad," cried Petnehazy, enthusiastically grasping his comrade's hand; "we choose between death and glory, and he who seeks glory will find a triumph also."

"So be it," said Montecuculi, with cool satisfaction, thrusting his field-gla.s.s into his pocket and drawing forth his thin blade; and, while he sent the two heroes to the two wings, he placed himself in front of the army, and commanded that the barrier of wagons should instantly be demolished.

The last discharge thundered forth, and from amidst the dispersing clouds of smoke two compact army columns could be seen rapidly charging--they were Toggendorf's cuira.s.siers and Petnehazy's hussars.

Petnehazy made straight for the still hesitating Moldavian army, which, with Prince Ghyka at its head, had as yet taken no part in the fight.

Heaven itself gave him the inspiration. The Prince of Moldavia had been waiting for a long time for some one to attack him, that he might at once quit the field of battle to which he had been constrained to come, though it revolted his feelings as a Christian to do so; consequently, when Petnehazy was within fifty yards of his battalions, they, as if at a given signal, turned tail without so much as crossing swords with the foe, galloped off to the left bank of the Waag, and so quitted the field.

This flight threw the whole Turkish army into disorder. A more skilful general would indeed have withdrawn the whole host, but, because of his short-sightedness, Ha.s.san did not perceive that the Moldavians had fled, and n.o.body durst tell him so. Ismail Pasha immediately hastened to fill up the gap; but before he had reached the spot, Toggendorf's cuira.s.siers were upon him, and he was caught between two fires in a moment. The Janissaries received the full brunt of the swords of the cuira.s.siers and the hussars, and in the first onset Ismail Pasha himself fell from his horse. A hussar rushed upon him, and severing from his body his big bared head, stuck it on the point of a lance, and raised it in the air as a very emblem of terror to the panic-stricken Turks. The Janissaries were no longer able to rally, in every direction they broke through the hostile ranks in a desperate attempt at flight, and, which was worse still, the flying infantry barred the way against the cavalry which was hastening to their a.s.sistance.

All this was taking place within two hundred yards of Ha.s.san Pasha, and he saw nothing of it.

"Glory be to Allah," he cried, raising his hands to heaven; "victory is ours! The Christian is flying and is casting down his banners in every direction. The best of his warriors are wallowing in the dust. The rest are flying without weapons and with pale----"

Those about him listened, horror-stricken, to his words. The Christian host was at that moment cutting down the Janissaries, the flower of the Turkish camp!

"Thou ravest, my master!" cried Yffim Beg, seizing the bridle of Ha.s.san Pasha's horse. "Fly and save thyself! The best of thy army has perished, the Janissaries have fallen, the Moldavian army hath fled. Ismail Pasha's head has been hoisted on to a pike!"

"Impossible!" roared Ha.s.san, beside himself, "come with me; let us charge, the victory is ours."

But his generals seized him, and tearing his sword from his hand, seized the bridle of his horse on both sides and hurried him along with them towards the bridge, which was now full of fugitives.

The hazard of the die had changed. The pursuers had become the fugitives. An hour before the Christian camp ran the risk of annihilation; it was now the turn of the Turks.

Kiuprile seeing the catastrophe, destroyed his bridges and remained on the opposite bank.

Meanwhile on the wings, Kucsuk Pasha and Feriz Beg, with his brigade of Amazons, were valiantly holding their own against the cuira.s.siers of Toggendorf and the hussars of Petnehazy, till at last the melancholy notes of the bugle-horns gave the signal for retreat, and the combatants gradually separated. Only a few scattered bands, and presently, only a few scattered individuals, still fought together, and then they also wearily abandoned the contest and returned silently to their respective camps. Both sides felt that their strength was exhausted. The Christian host had four thousand, the Turkish sixteen thousand slain, and among them its best generals; they also lost all their heavy cannons, their banners, and their military renown; but none lost so much as Feriz Beg.

The Amazon Brigade had perished. By its deliberate self-sacrifice it had saved the Turkish army from utter destruction.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE PERSECUTED WOMAN.

Perhaps by this time you have clean forgotten our dear acquaintance, pretty Mariska, the wife of the Prince of Wallachia?

Ah, she is happy! Although her husband is far away, her sorrow is forgotten in the near approach of a new joy--the joy of motherhood.

There she sits at eventide in the garden of her castle, weaving together dreams of a happy future, and her court ladies by her side are making tiny little garments adorned with bright ribbons.

When the peasant women pa.s.s by her on the road with their children in their arms, she takes the children from them, presses them to her bosom, kisses, and talks to them. She is the G.o.dmother of every new-born infant, and what a tender G.o.dmother! Day after day she visits the churches, and before the altar of the Virgin-Mother prays that she also may have her portion of that happiness which is the greatest joy G.o.d gives to women.

After the battle of St. Gothard it was Prince Ghyka's first thought to send a courier to his wife, bidding her not to be anxious about her husband, for he was alive and would soon be home.

This was Mariska's first tidings of the lost battle, and she thanked G.o.d for it. What did she care that the battle was lost, that the glory of the Turkish Sultan was cracked beyond repair, so long as her husband remained to her? With him the husbands of all the other poor Wallachian wives were also safe. She at once hastened to tell the more remote of these poor women that they were not to be alarmed if they heard that the Turkish army had been cut down, for their husbands were free and quite near to them.

What joy at the thought of seeing him again! How she watched for her husband from morn till eve, and awoke at night at the slightest noise.

If a horse neighed in the street, if she heard a trumpet far away, she fancied that her husband was coming.

One night she was aroused by the sound of a light tapping at her bedroom door, and her husband's voice replied to her question of "Who is there?"

Her surprise and her joy were so great that in the first moment of awaking she knew not what to do, whereupon her husband impatiently repeated:

"Mariska, open the door!"

The wife hastened to embrace her husband, admitted him, fell upon his neck, and covered him with kisses; but, perceiving suddenly that the kisses her husband gave her back were quite cold, and that his arm trembled when he embraced her, she looked anxiously at his face--it was grave and full of anxiety.

"My husband!" cried the unusually sensitive woman with a shaky voice.

"Why do you embrace me--us, so coldly," her downcast eyes seemed to say.

The Prince did not fail to notice the expression, and very sadly, and sighing slightly, he said:

"So much the worse for me!"

His hands, his whole frame shook so in the arms of his wife; and yet the Prince was a muscular as well as a brave man.

"What has happened? What is the matter?" asked his wife anxiously.

"Nothing," said the Prince, kissing her forehead. "Be quiet. Lie down. I have some business to do which must be done to-night. Then I'll come to you, and we'll talk about things."

Mariska took him at his word, and lay down again. But she still trembled--why, she knew not.

There must be something wrong, something very wrong with her husband, or else he would not have welcomed his wife so coldly at the very moment of his arrival.

After a few moments, during which she heard her husband talking in an undertone with someone outside, he came in with his sword in his hand, and after seeming to look for something, he turned to Mariska:

"Have you the keys of your treasure-box?"

"Yes, they are in my secretaire."

The Prince took the keys and withdrew.

Mariska breathed again. "Then it is only some money trouble after all,"

she thought. "Thank G.o.d it is no worse. They have lost something in the camp, I suppose, or they are s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g some more tribute out of him."

In a short time the Prince again returned, and stood there for a time as if he couldn't make up his mind to speak. At last he said: