There is always a moment in every war when wary inaction gives way to movement, bred of an access of boldness to one side or the other.

Gustavus had received an addition of eight thousand Swedes and six thousand English. He had persuaded George William, the Brandenburger, to throw in his lot with him. Pappenheim and Tilly had made, but not followed up, an abortive attack on his fortified camp at Werben. He decided to cross the Elbe and advance to the southern limits of Mark Brandenburg, whether the Emperor's generals resisted him or not. It is possible that he thought such an advance would assist John George of Saxony, whose territory lay next in his path, to make up his mind.

And at this time the Emperor Ferdinand was aware that Count FÜrstenberg, his chief commander in Austrian Italy, had arrived by leisurely marches with twenty thousand veteran troops by way of Franconia and the upper Palatinate, to join Tilly's army, so that, like Gustavus, he also intended to assist John George of Saxony to make up his mind.

To Pappenheim, Tilly being still at Erfurt, or in the confines of ThÜringia, Nigel brought word of the advance of Gustavus. Pappenheim sent word to Tilly, and Tilly returned to concert operations.

They had scarcely joined hands again when the Emperor's messenger arrived bidding them forthwith march into Saxony.

Imperial courtesy demanded that the Emperor's general should give John George at least a single opportunity of submission. Two officers of high rank were sent to the Elector with an imperious demand. John George made a dignified reply as became a prince, entertained the officers with Saxon hospitality as a prince, and at the close of the banqueting uttered this dry and humorous warning:—

"Gentlemen, I perceive that the Saxon confectionery, which has been so long kept back, is at length to be set upon the table. But, as it is usual to mix it with nuts and other hard ingredients, I pray you to take care of your teeth."

In a short space Tilly was before Leipzig, threatening it with fire and sword, and the fate of Magdeburg; and Pappenheim was thirty miles to the west taking possession of Merseburg.

Then John George made up his mind.

Then rode messengers offering alliance to Gustavus, who, ever mindful of a possible evil day and a clear line of retreat, demanded the fortresses he had asked for before.

John George offered these, offered his family as hostages—whatsoever Gustavus would. Magdeburg, which was another's, had failed to move him. But Leipzig (the prudent city had surrendered on conditions to Tilly) did move him. It might be Dresden next. Besides, he had forty thousand men in brand-new uniforms, bright and hard Saxon confectionery, and Arnim the Lutheran, who had once commanded under Wallenstein, to lead them. Surely between his forces and Gustavus they might trip up Tilly and Pappenheim, and knock the two elderly generals' heads together till they cracked.

So it happened that before John George quite realised that war was upon him, that he had at last committed himself to a side, his beloved country was overrun with armies, and there dawned the day of Breitenfeld, or as some prefer to call it, of Leipzig.

Nigel and Hildebrand were exchanging a few words over a hasty breakfast, while Sergeant Blick was, with the aid of the other officers, overlooking the arms and saddles of the troopers.

"Thank Heaven!" said Hildebrand, "we are meeting the Swede at last! Yet the old man looks grey this morning!"

"Aye!" said Nigel. "Tilly has not been himself since he made his headquarters in the gravedigger's house outside Leipzig."

"It was an ill omen that the only house that was left after our cannonade should be a gravedigger's, with skulls and cross-bones all over it," said the other lugubriously.

"Tut, man! So long as it kept out the weather! Though why Tilly let the Swede and John George join forces without a shot puzzles me. He seems, though he says nothing, to hold the Swede in too much respect."

"Well, the Swede has all his work to do. Tilly has made his dispositions well."

They pushed back their seats and went out.

Behind them was a long range of hills, along which three hundred feet above where they stood were posted battery after battery of Tilly's guns. The two officers looked out over a gently sloping plain to the eastward and descried the long line of a little river, marked here and there by clumps of willows, and the occasional gleam of the morning sun on its surface. Beyond the rivulet at some miles' distance they could make out men and horses in movement, banners, and the play of light upon a rippling sea of weapons: but all was as yet indistinct, save that there seemed to be two separate armies with a considerable space of country between.

"Gustavus does not wish us to confound his well-trained veterans with the Saxon gingerbread!" said Hildebrand.

"But which is which?" asked Nigel. "For my part I ask nothing better than to let fly my rough-riders at the Swedes, and let any one else hew down the Saxons!"

"Hum!" said Hildebrand. "Heaven knows how our rascals will behave under fire!"

Nigel's eyes gleamed. "I'll cut down the first man that wavers!"

"Well," said Hildebrand. "Thank Heaven again we're attached to Tilly's division, for where that is will be the hottest of the fighting. He's a devil to fight is Tilly."

"It is the Empire or the Swede to-day. And Tilly knows it. No wonder he looks grey. There he is! Come along!"

They took their places in front of the regiment. They were on the right wing of the centre division. The infantry in closely massed battalions stretched for a long distance. Then came the cavalry of Tilly's left. Beyond them was a division of Pappenheim stretching away into the haze. To Nigel's right again was the division led by Count FÜrstenberg, a formidable host in itself.

"Your men look mettlesome, colonel," Tilly growled, as he rode along by Nigel's regiment, his well-known red feather standing out in the westerly breeze.

Nigel saluted again. "They will give a good account of themselves, general!" he said loud enough for the regiment to hear.

Presently it was clear to all those who had good eyes that the Swede was to oppose Pappenheim, and was moving in a long line towards the rivulet, was, in fact, nearly at its bank. The guns of Tilly on the hills sounded a salute to the great day, the first balls falling, however, short of the rivulet. Tilly noted it and looked displeased enough. Pappenheim noticed, and led his cavalry to the water's edge to dispute the passage. The battle had begun. Even at the beginning the generalship of Gustavus made itself felt. His men were disposed in two long lines of no great depth. There were no massed battalions to offer easy marks for Tilly's cannon. His whole forces were distributed in small bodies, each able to move with celerity, and accustomed to draw to itself and oppose its own share of the attack, without, however, causing any break in the general plan. But his musketry made play upon the splendid cavalry that swept down in orderly fashion to meet them. And from the intervals of the regiments of musketeers came the steady cannon shots, well aimed and low, making little lanes of fallen horses and men in Pappenheim's cavalry. Pappenheim was obliged to withdraw his cavalry to re-form them, and the Swedes began to cross the rivulet. The rivulet must needs be wide and deep that will stop any army extended over a wide front.

Pappenheim fired the village of Podelwitz as he retreated, a village that lay between his first position and the rivulet. The west wind laden with smoke and dust blew strongly and into the faces of the Swedes. But still they pressed on and began to get some of their artillery over.

From his position on the lower slopes of the hill Nigel could see the Swedish lines gradually formed, and marked the new plan of setting out the battle. To his mind it seemed to be tempting fortune on the part of the Swede to oppose a swarm of separate companies, of groups of companies, to the heavy masses that sooner or later in the day were to sweep steadily upon them. But he did not count upon the advantages the Swede possessed in a more extended firing line, and in offering less conspicuous, if more numerous, targets to the enemy.

Nigel chafed at the inevitable delay till they should be ordered into action. For at least two hours the cannon along the ridge thundered over their heads and seemed to make little impression upon either Swedes or Saxons.

Then Pappenheim with his two thousand cuirassiers launched forth again against Gustavus himself, who commanded the right wing of the Swedes. And Nigel marked that the Swedish right were wheeling towards the north, and that their fire was fierce and evenly sustained.

At last the little general with the red feather gave orders for the centre to attack, and Nigel gripped his saddle tighter with his knees, and led his regiment down on to the plain, keeping within the interval between two great double battalions of musketeers and pikemen. It was slow at first, till they drew near the enemy, and then came the turn of his troopers. The infantry having delivered their fire advanced slowly, while Nigel's regiment and the other cavalry rode to the front rapidly, halted, fired, and fell back. This they did many times, but still the Swedes did not give way. Tilly felt not only the fire of the Swedes in front but that of Gustavus' right wing on his flank, so to avoid this and partly perhaps because the thing looked tempting, he took ground to the right, and ordered a rapid attack upon the Saxons, who perhaps by accident had drawn rather towards Tilly than to Count FÜrstenberg.

Tilly was right in the one thing. He bore down upon the Saxons, and the Saxon army showed its rawness; for it gave way on all sides, and only a few regiments maintained their ground; the rest fled, and even John George himself.

Nigel's spirits rose with Tilly's. Tilly swept round again to fall upon the left wing of the Swedes. But only to find that Gustavus, apprised of the Saxon flight, had reinforced his left with three more regiments, and that Pappenheim on Tilly's left was battling for dear life against Gustavus himself, unable to maintain his ground.

Desperately did Tilly endeavour to overcome. Again and again and again he led his still unbroken masses against Horn, the Swedish general, and again and again the Swedes hurled them back.

Again and again Hildebrand and Nigel charged with their rough-riders, who were no cowards, meeting alike musketeers and pikemen and even Horn's cuirassiers. But it was of no avail.

Then came the news that Pappenheim's men had broken and fled. Then that the artillery on the hills were in the hands of Gustavus, a fact that they soon became aware of. In face of them was the Swedish left, behind them were their own guns, and on their left flank Gustavus, marching through the dÉbris of Pappenheim's host, was sweeping down upon them. The day was over. Nigel and Hildebrand rallied their tattered remnant of fifty saddles and rode after Tilly to act as his bodyguard. Nigel scanned the field with a quick eye and caught sight of him. A Swedish captain of horse was on the point of taking the little general prisoner when Nigel, spurring his horse, rode the Swede down.

Nigel's sword went through him. The man rolled over with the onset, and then fell with his upturned face grinning at his slayer in the very spasm of death. There was one final flash of recognition between four eyes. It was enough. Nigel was out of his saddle in an instant, an instant of deadly peril, ransacked the man's doublet, took out a bulky letter, and sprang to horse again. They had remounted Count Tilly, who was barely able to sit his horse by reason of his wounds. Nigel bade two sturdy troopers hold him on by any means; and taking the lead, rallying whatever troopers came his way, and sending word to the few remaining foot-regiments to follow, he pressed with all speed towards the open country to the northward. It was a miserable remnant of a mighty army which bivouacked at Halle.

The last glimpse of the field of battle that Nigel caught had shown him Pastor Rad, with a regiment of Swedes on their knees before him, offering up in stentorian tones a thanksgiving for the Swedish victory over his German and Catholic brethren.