We looked hard at each other, and I saw my own thoughts reflected in Szondi's eyes.

"All right," said he. "I can tell we're both in one mind, and we'll find a good many others to join us."

"All the staff for certain."

"And every man in the army. Dembinski, indeed!"

"What does Klapka say?"

"He'll stick to Gorgei through thick and thin; so will Nagy Sandor. I'm off now. See you again this evening, and tell you more about it."

Szondi's news soon spread amongst the officers, causing the greatest consternation.

To remove Gorgei was to take away the very life and soul of the army.

To replace him by the Pole would be rank folly.

As the day wore on, I became convinced that unless the Diet--or Kossuth, as rightly or wrongly the officers would have it--withdrew the order, there would be mischief.

Towards the end of the afternoon Szondi came to take me to a meeting of the staff.

"The fellows are furious," he said, "and want to sign a paper refusing to serve under any one but Gorgei. What's your idea?"

"I'll put my name down fast enough."

"So will the others. Then we'll take it to Klapka, and he'll bring Kossuth, or whoever the mover of the affair is, to reason. Here we are at Mizvy's tent."

The discussion which took place was rather monotonous, as every one spoke on the same side, and the keynote was that Gorgei should not go.

After that Mizvy drew up a counter-proclamation, and I, being the youngest officer present, was invited to sign first, which I did. The others appended their signatures, and then Mizvy was deputed to carry the doc.u.ment to General Klapka, and explain matters.

"The general is sure to be with us," said one man, "but, if he needs stiffening, tell him there isn't an officer in the army who wouldn't gladly put his name to the paper."

"Nor a soldier either," added a second man.

"That will make some of them draw long faces over at Pesth," said Szondi gaily. "I don't think we shall hear much more of Dembinski as commander-in-chief."

Szondi was right. The Diet, interviewed by the two generals, Klapka and Nagy Sandor, saw it had gone too far; and Gorgei was restored to his rank, almost without knowing he had been deprived of it. But the more I looked at the incident the less I liked it.

Gorgei was the great chief to whom all who did not wish separation from Austria looked for guidance; and the attempt to take him from the army showed very clearly the wide gulf between the two sections of the Hungarian nation.

Meanwhile, matters were becoming very serious in all parts of the country.

In the south, Bern, who seemed to grow stronger after each defeat, still made headway against the enemy, but elsewhere our prospects were cheerless.

Field-Marshal Paskewitch was making a military promenade with his army, and it was likely that we should soon be crushed between him and Haynau.

Certainly our entrenchments were very strong, and every day--for Gorgei had a great belief in pick and spade--made them stronger; but they could not keep out Haynau and the Russians.

The chief was still prevented by his wound from riding about; but he had long and anxious talks with Klapka, and it was finally decided we should make one more attempt to defeat the Austrians before Paskewitch could send them help.

It was the tenth of July when this decision was made, and none of the staff went to sleep that night till everything had been put in trim for the approaching conflict.

CHAPTER XVIII.

_GoRGEI FORGETS HIS WOUND._

"It's make or break to-day, Botskay. Of course we shall keep on fighting, but unless our fellows smash Haynau up our chance is gone."

Szondi and I were standing behind Gorgei on a piece of rising ground from which we could obtain a view of the battle. The chief's face showed how annoyed he was at having to remain behind, and I nudged my comrade, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Wound or no wound," he whispered, "if the fight goes against us you'll see him in the thick of it. Look! He's waving his hand to the hussars we charged with the other day. They'd be glad to have him at their head now."

Our hearts beat high as the cavalry pa.s.sed in numerous bodies, our hopes being largely placed on these gallant fellows.

Klapka had posted twenty batteries in the forest of Harkaly, and it was his plan, or rather Gorgei's, by a combined attack of infantry, horse, and artillery, to break the Austrian centre, and push it back beyond the village of Czern.

It was nine o'clock in the morning when the infantry moved out, and very soon we heard the thunder of the heavy guns.

This was the beginning; I asked myself what would be the end. The soldiers knew how much depended on their exertions, and I judged by their set faces that the enemy would have all their work cut out to beat them.

Gorgei stood looking intently through his gla.s.s, occasionally giving a smile of satisfaction as the troops took up their positions.

"It ought to answer," he muttered. "Upon my word, I believe we shall beat them; Klapka's handling his men beautifully. They want more guns, though, on the right. Szondi, tell Benitzky to move some of his guns to the edge of the forest.--Botskay, ride to General Klapka, and wait to see what happens in the centre. Come back the instant he drives the Austrians from the village.--Mizvy, tell Prince Leiningen to hold--"

I did not hear the rest, being already on my way to General Klapka.

The battle was now in full swing, but the thick volumes of smoke made it difficult to see what was going on.

Soon I met wounded men dropping to the rear, and from one of them gathered that the Austrian centre was getting a terrific pounding.

"They'll have to go, captain," said the man. "Flesh and blood can't stand it much longer."

After giving him a drink from my flask, I rode on, finding myself at length amongst Klapka's staff.

I delivered my message to the general, who said smilingly, "I don't think you will have long to wait;" and turning to one of his officers, he sent him off somewhere with an order.

Everything around me was bustle and excitement. Men came and went in endless succession, and almost without a pause.

One young fellow, whose horse's nostrils were laced with foam, dashed up at a gallop, and saluted with his left arm, his right being shattered by a musket-ball.

The general said something to him, but he shook his head, smiled gaily, and was off again in spite of his broken limb.

Meanwhile the fight in the centre was fast approaching a crisis.