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 Gorgei 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. n.o.bles 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 n.o.ble 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 Gorgei 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 a.s.sembly 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. Pa.s.s 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 pa.s.s 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 Gorgei, 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 Gorgei 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. Gorgei, 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 pa.s.sionate 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.