The Red, White, and Green

  CHAPTER XIV.

  _THE QUARREL WITH COUNT BEULA._

  One result of the declaration of independence was an inrush offoreigners: Poles, Germans, French, Italians swarmed into the country onall sides.

  These men were all red-hot republicans, and, except the Poles, foughtnot so much out of love to Hungary as from hatred to the Austriangovernment.

  Naturally they helped to swell Kossuth's party, and talked loudly ofmaintaining the struggle till Hungary was acknowledged an independentrepublic; while some, going still farther, demanded that the Russiansshould be expelled from Poland, and the two countries joined together.

  At first, however, the real dispute centered on the next step in thewar. Goergei, who had returned to Pesth, pointed out that by staying tocapture Buda we should lose our only opportunity of crushing theAustrians 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 asoldier's duty is to obey, and not to question.

  Amongst ourselves and in the city we talked hotly enough, and manypassionate words were spoken in the heat of anger.

  On our side, none were so furious as Stephen, who had come to Pesth withhis chief.

  He expressed his opinions freely, gaining thereby no love from theforeigners, and openly boasted that he would not be chained to thetriumphal car of Louis Kossuth.

  Several times I begged him to moderate his language; but he onlylaughed, saying that, now Kossuth had made Hungary free, there was noneed for him to be silent.

  I was the more amazed at my brother's behaviour, because it was so muchout of harmony with his real character; but there seemed to be a kind ofspell on him, which he was unable to shake off.

  One evening he was holding forth to Rakoczy, myself, and several othersin a restaurant, when Count Beula entered with some friends.

  The count nodded to us all very politely, and, seating himself at thenext table, ordered wine for his company.

  Whether the man really meant to create a disturbance or not I cannotsay, but, filling his glass, he cried, "Here's to the Hungarianrepublic!"

  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 aquarrel. "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 thegeneral alone, we should be over the frontier by now."

  "The young man carries messages for Goergei," the count explained to hisassociates in a tone of amusement. "That is how he comes to know so muchabout fighting."

  "Even that gives more training than talking rubbish in a back room," Iput 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 Stephencontemptuously.

  The quarrel, like a fire, once started, blazed furiously, and but for ashaggy-haired German, we should speedily have come to blows.

  He was puffing vigorously at a tremendous pipe, and, coming through thedense volume of smoke, his voice sounded like a fog-horn.

  "Ach!" he grunted, "the quarrel is stupid; let it rest. The count hasmade his reputation with General Bern; he can afford to laugh. As forthe boys, they seem very nice boys--ach!" and the oracle faded behind acloud of smoke of his own construction. This was like a douche of coldwater on the fire; but though the flames were put out, the emberssmouldered, and presently sprang into a fresh blaze.

  I hardly know how it happened, but the conversation once more turnedupon the siege of Buda, and Stephen maintained, quite rightly, as afterevents proved, that even a successful assault must be attended byimmense slaughter.

  "The boy speaks sense there!" growled the smoke-hidden Teuton. "I knowHentzi 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 countsneeringly. "We shall find men stout-hearted enough to storm the breachwhen it's made."

  "I do not fear for myself," Stephen answered proudly.

  "No, no," said the count, laughing insolently. "It isn't likely, sinceyou won't be there till the danger's over. Most men are brave enoughwhen 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 youthere."

  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 partieswhenever a breach is practicable. Kossuth's friends fight as well astalk."

  "They do more than their leader then," said Dobozy, who formed one ofour party.

  The count's statement fell on me like a thunderbolt. I had thought himan arrogant, conceited fellow, having nothing of the soldier about himbut his uniform and his swagger, yet here he spoke calmly of leading aforlorn hope.

  He saw his triumph, and glanced at us, but particularly at Stephen, withan insolent patronage for which I could have kicked him.

  "Oh no," he said loftily, in answer to a remark from a companion; "Itake no merit for it. The opportunity offered, and I accepted--nothingmore. Of course our young friend has his fixed duties, otherwise wemight have seen him at the breach."

  The words were simple and harmless, but the sneer was so open that itcould not be mistaken, and my brother's face flushed crimson. "And soyou shall," he cried hotly. "I cannot claim so high an honour as CountBeula, but I can and will enter the fortress as soon as he."

  The count smiled, drained his glass, rose to go, and then, looking roundat the company, said pleasantly, "A challenge before so many witnessesmust be accepted; but"--maliciously--"perhaps before Goergei's guns havemade the breach our young friend will have had time to repent his hastywords."

  Then he and his friends went out, and left us looking at one anothergloomily.

  "What's the matter, George?" my brother asked gaily. "One would think Ihad been condemned to death."

  "Not at all," I answered, shaking off my gloom. "I was only thinkinghow we were deceived in that fellow. Fancy Beula at the head of a bodyof 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 strangesignificance.

  "How you youngsters chatter!" exclaimed Rakoczy cheerfully. "The placehasn't been summoned yet, and Hentzi may surrender."

  This, of course, was possible, though not probable, and the very nextday the idea had to be put aside altogether.

  "The emperor, my august master, has entrusted to me the keys of Buda; Iwill return them to him alone. Meanwhile my honour and my duty commandme to defend the fortress, and I will do so to the last man. Should thetwin cities perish in the conflict, I declare you responsible for theirruin. I appeal to God, my right, and my sword."

  That was Hentzi's reply to the summons to surrender, and I could not butadmire the writer of it.

  "Brave words these," said Rakoczy, "and he's a brave man if he makesthem good, though I don't exactly see why he should bombard Pesth, whenour guns will be on the Blocksberg."

  It was the fourth of May when the answer came, and Goergei, who hadestablished his headquarters at Schwabenberg, immediately gave ordersfor the beginning of the siege operations.

  For the next week the fighting was mainly confined to outpostengagements, in which our regiment had little share; then the batterieswere ope
ned between the Stuhl-Weissenberg and Vienna gates.

  This being the weakest part of the defence, Hentzi had strengthened itwith twenty-five guns, which thundered away at our artillery day andnight.

  For the greater part of another week the terrible cannonade continued,and as we lay on the hillside we saw with intense grief the beautifultwin 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 tovolunteer for the attack.

  He rallied me on my sober looks, saying it was no more dangerous for himthan for me, as the 9th Honveds were to form one of the assaultingcolumns.

  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 theofficers waited with much curiosity to see how the meeting would go off.

  "Well," said the count, bowing all round in his finicking way, "I hearthat 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 yousay, we shall meet in the fortress," and he lounged off.

  As the count had stated, the breach was considered practicable, but thegreat guns thundered on, doing as much damage as was possible before theassault took place.

  Our regiment, being the farthest off, was to start first; but theevening wore away, and Rakoczy had not received any definite orders.

  Always careful of his men, he made them turn in early; but we officerssat or stood about in groups, talking over the chances of the comingassault.

  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 hadbeen decided.

  My brother first delivered his message to the colonel; but as no secretwas made of it, we soon learned that the assault was fixed for the firststreak of dawn.

  Several of the officers now went to get an hour's rest, but Stephen andI passed the time with the colonel, who maintained a cheerfulconversation.

  Just at the last he left us alone, and it was only then I discovered thereal state of my feelings.

  Stephen, too, was much affected; but he carried it off well--not lightlyor vaingloriously, but as a brave lad should.

  I thought, and think still, he was greatly to blame for getting intosuch a scrape; but no one could blame his conduct afterwards.

  "Let us say farewell, dear old fellow," he whispered, "in case one of usshould not return. If I fall, remember you are the head of the Botskayfamily, and that our father died fighting for his king."

  "I don't forget; and if my time has come, take this ring and portrait tothe ladies at Vienna, and say a word of farewell to the fraeulein."

  At this he threw off his grave air, and joked me pleasantly, so thatwhen the signal was made to fall in, we took our places in quite acheerful humour.

  My brother, of course, went with the stormers, while we followed closelyin support.

  It was still dark, but we trusted the guides to keep us straight, andcalculated on arriving at the breach as soon as dawn broke.

  No one spoke, and hardly a sound was heard as the column wound itsstealthy way along.

  By this time the cannonade had ceased, and it seemed also as if thesorely-harassed garrison had ventured to take a short rest. Tramp,tramp, we marched along, pausing at intervals to give the rear of thecolumn time to close up.

  The men with the scaling-ladders were out of sight, but we kept on inthe weird and eerie darkness, expecting every moment to see the flash ofthe rockets, and to hear the thunder of the guns.

  All was, however, silent, and I wondered we had come across no sign ofthe other columns.

  I don't know why it should have done so, but the truth suddenly flashedinto 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 bynow. 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 theirway, now in this direction, now that.

  Remembering Stephen's scornful words about Count Beula losing the routein the dark, I dared not speak to my brother, but hurried back toRakoczy.

  I had barely told him the story, when far on the left the guns roaredout. Bright flashes of flame leaped from their muzzles, telling us thatthe garrison was on the alert, and that we were not at hand to help ourcomrades.

  I hardly heard the colonel's orders. My head was in a whirl. I walkedor ran just when and where the others did, wondering all the time whatStephen would do.

  What a triumph for Count Beula!

  Hitherto I had feared for my brother's life; now I would have cheerfullylaid down mine that he might have a chance of risking his. Guided bythe flashes of light and the sound of the guns, we ran on, hoping wemight yet be in time to strike one blow.

  The dawn was breaking; we could see our way more clearly, and weregetting near enough to hear the shouts and cries of the combatants.

  "Forward, my brave lads! forward!" I cried excitedly. "We shall do ityet!" 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, thetriumphant notes were heard of a song well known to most of us. Theattack had failed. The victorious garrison were jubilantly singing theAustrian National Anthem, "Heil, unser Kaiser, heil!" as our threeshattered columns hastily fled.

  Seeing that for the present all was lost, Rakoczy halted his column, andin shame and confusion we retraced our steps.

  Really it was a fortunate circumstance we had thus blundered, as thebreach was not fit, and the scaling-ladders had been found too short fortheir purpose.

  Our comrades, whose losses were enormous, had struggled gallantly, andby common consent the bravest man among them was Count Beula.

  Everywhere we heard the most marvellous tales of his daring andrecklessness. He had fought in the very front, had cheered his menagain and again to the attack, and, while they fell around him inscores, 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 deemeda disgrace, tried to cheer him.

  "Don't fret about it, my boy," he exclaimed brightly; "'twas not yourfault. The count had the luck--that's all. No one who knows you willquestion your courage."

  "It's very kind of you to speak like that," my brother replied, "but allthe talking in the world won't alter the facts. Perhaps I shall feelbetter after the next attempt."

  "There's no need to try again," I said stoutly. "You did your best, andcan't be blamed because the guides missed the route."

  "Do you think I will let a shadow of reproach rest on our name?" hesaid. "Don't try to turn me, George; it is useless. My mind is madeup, and, with or without the general's leave, I mean to take part in thenext assault."

  The colonel signed to me to let the subject drop, which I did, andpresently we all sat down to breakfast.

  After the meal and an hour's sleep, Stephen said he must report himselfto 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 therethe meeting will be less awkward."

  Rakoczy guessed rightly. We found the count near Goergei's tent, thecentre of an admiring group of officers, to whom he was relating theevents 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'sbehaviour was, to my thinking, admirable.

  His face was very white, and his lips twitched a little, but he spokequite calmly.

  "Count Beula," he said, "permit me to add my congratulations to those ofyour brother officers. What you did last night will never be forgottenby this army. We are not good friends, you and I, but that doesn'tprevent me from admiring your bravery. Last night I failed to keep mypromise; next time I may be more successful."

  "Well spoken!" said Rakoczy, and a familiar voice behind us echoed thewords.

  The second speaker was Goergei himself, who had come from his tent intime to hear what was said.

  The count smiled, showing his white teeth.

  "Captain Botskay must have been terribly annoyed at finding himself outof reach of danger," he said sweetly.

  Here again it was impossible to take offence at his words, though theymight, and most likely did, convey a false meaning.

  Goergei, however, came handsomely to the rescue.

  "It would be something of a novelty," he said bluntly. "I doubt if hehas 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 yourfellows in the front next time."

  Rakoczy saw his chance of getting in a counter-stroke on the count, andseized it.

  "Yes," he said, smiling pleasantly, "I was afraid the affair would fallthrough without us, though I hear Count Beula did not fail through wantof trying."

  "There's praise for you, count!" cried Goergei with a broad laugh. "Butwe'll have another try soon, and then, if you don't succeed, I'll leadthe stormers myself.--Captain Botskay, you're just in time to take amessage to Pesth;" and he carried Stephen off to his tent.

  The colonel and I stayed awhile chatting, but not being over fond of thecount's company, we took the first opportunity to go.

  As soon as the wounded were brought in, the gunners resumed thebombardment, 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 quartershad been destroyed, and hundreds of people, not only homeless but inimminent danger of their lives, were camping on the Rakos, whither theyhad carried the wounded soldiers, both Hungarian and Austrian.

  Meanwhile Goergei thundered day and night at the walls, while thestout-hearted garrison worked like slaves, repairing the breaches,erecting breastworks, and doing everything possible to strengthen theirposition.

  All the officers who were not of Kossuth's party grumbled openly at thiswaste of time and loss of valuable lives; but since the fortress had tobe taken, every one felt the sooner the better.

  During the evening of the twenty-first of May we marched to the trenchesand 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 nearlytwenty thousand of us, all told, in the trenches."

  "He can't afford to risk a second repulse," remarked my brother, who, inspite 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, eachbusy with his own thoughts; and sad enough mine, at least, were.