It was a beautiful summer evening; there was a half-moon in the sky, and a hundred other half-moons scattered over the hillocks below. The Turkish host had encamped among the hills skirting the river Raab.

Concerning this particular new moon, we find recorded in the prophetic column of the "Kaossa Almanack" for the current year that it was to be:

The worthy astrologer forgot, however, to find out in heaven whether there are not certain quarters of the moon beneath which man may easily die even if they are not sick.

The great Grand Vizier Kiuprile, after resting on the ruins of ZerinvÁr, turned towards the borders of Styria and united with the army of the Pasha of Buda, below St. Gothard.

Kiuprile's host consisted for the most part of cavalry, for his infantry was employed in digging trenches round ZerinvÁr, whose commandant, in reply to an invitation to surrender the fortress and not attempt to defend it with six hundred men against thirty thousand, jestingly responded: "As one Hungarian florin is worth ten Turkish piasters, one Hungarian warrior necessarily must be worth ten Turkish warriors." And what is more, the worthy man made good this rate of exchange, for when the victors came to count up the cost, they found that for six hundred Hungarians they had had to pay six thousand Osmanlis into the hands of his Majesty King Death.

Kiuprile had then pursued the armies of the Emperor, but they refused to stand and fight anywhere; and while their enemies were marching higher and higher up the banks of the Raab, they seemed to be withdrawing farther and farther away on the opposite shore.

The army of the Pasha of Buda should have gone round at the rear of the imperial forces, in order to unite with the Pasha of ÉrsekÚjvÁr, the former having previously cut off every possibility of a retreat; but Hassan, as an independent general, did not follow the directions sent him, simply because they came from Kiuprile, and he also made straight for the Raab by forced marches, in order to wrest the opportunity of victory from his rival.

Thus the two armies came together, on July 30th, below the romantic hills of St. Gothard, each army pitching its tents on the right bank of the river, and occupying the summits of the hills, which commanded a view of the whole region.

And certainly the worthy gentlemen showed no bad taste when they took a fancy to that part of the kingdom. In every direction lay the yellow acres, from which the terrified peasants had not yet reaped the standing corn; to the right were the gay vineyard-clad hills; to the left the dark woods and stretch upon stretch of undulating meadow-land, bisected by the winding ribbon of the Raab. On a hill close by stood the gigantic pillared portico of the Monastery of St. Gothard, with fair pleasure-groves at its base. Farther away were the towers of four or five villages. The setting sun, as if desirous of making the district still more beautiful, enwrapped it in a veil of golden mist.

"Thou dog!" cried Hassan Pasha to the peasant who alone received the terrible guests in the abandoned cloisters, "this region is far too beautiful for the like of you monks to dwell in. But you will not be in it long, my good sirs, for I mean to take it for myself. The peasant after all is lord here. He eats his own bread and he drinks his own wine, and he has a couple of good garments to draw over his head. But stop, things shall be very different, for I shall have a word to say about it."

The honest peasant took off his cap. "God grant," said he, "that more and more of you may dwell in my domains, and that I may build your houses for you." The man was a grave-digger.

Hassan Pasha and his suite occupied the monastery, whose vestibule was filled with priests and magistrates from every quarter of the kingdom, whose duty it was to collect and bring in provisions and taxes due to the Turkish Government. And what they brought in was never sufficient, and therefore the poor creatures had to send deputies as hostages from time to time, who followed their lords on foot wherever they went, and relieved each other from this servitude in rotation; some of them had been here for half a year.

The Turkish army was more than 100,000 strong, and the right bank of the river was planted for a long distance with their tents. The monastery constituted the centre of the camp; there was the encampment of Hassan's favourite mamelukes and the selected corps of cloven-nosed, gigantic negroes, who used to plunge into the combat half-naked, and neither take nor give quarter. Alongside of them was the cavalry of Kucsuk Pasha, a corps accustomed to the strictest discipline. Close beside the tents of this division, within a quadrilateral, guarded by a ditch, you could see the camp of the Amazon Brigade, whose first thought when they pitch their tents is to entrench themselves.

Close to the camp of Kucsuk lies the Moldavian army, from whose elaborate precautions you can gather that they have a far greater fear of their allies all around them than of the foe against whom they are marching. From beyond the monastery, right up to the vineyards of Nagyfalva, the ground is occupied by the noisy Janissaries of Ismail Pasha, who, if their military reputation lies not, are more used to distributing orders to their commanders than receiving orders from them. Beyond the vine-clad hills lies the cavalry of the Grand Vizier, Achmed Kiuprile, and all round about, wherever a column of smoke is to be seen or the sky is blood-red, there is good reason for suspecting that there the marauding Tartar bands are out, whom it was not the habit to attach to the main army. Far in the rear, along the mountain paths, on the slopes of the narrow forest passes, could be seen the endlessly long procession of wagons laden with plunder, intermingled with long round iron cannons and ancient stone mortars, each one drawn along by ten or twelve buffaloes, striving laboriously and painfully to urge their way forward, and if one of them stops for a moment, or falls down, all the others behind it must stop also.

It is now evening, and from one division of the army to another the messengers from headquarters are hurrying. Kiuprile's messenger comes to inform Hassan that the army of the enemy has taken up its position on the opposite bank, between two forests, the French mercenaries and the German auxiliary troops have joined it, so that it would be well to attack it in the night, before it has had time properly to marshal its ranks.

"Thy master is mad," replied Hassan; "how can I fly across the water? Before me is the river Raab. I should have to fling a bridge across it first—nay two, three bridges—which it would take me days to do, and I cannot even begin to do it till the old ammunition waggons have arrived. Go back, therefore, and tell thy master that if he wants to fight I'll sound the alarm."

The messenger opened his eyes wide, being unaware of the fact that Hassan was short-sighted, and consequently only knew the river Raab from the map, not knowing that at the spot where he stood the river was not more than two yards wide, and could be bridged over in a couple of hours without the assistance of old ammunition wagons—so back the messenger went to Kiuprile.

He had scarce shown a clean pair of heels, when the messenger of Kucsuk Pasha arrived to signify in his master's name that the battle could not be postponed, because no hay had arrived for the horses.

Hassan turned furiously on the captive magistrates.

"Why have you not sent hay?"

The wisest of them, desirous to answer the question, politely rejoined: "It has been a dry summer, sir, the Lord has kept back the clouds of Heaven."

"Oh, that's it, eh!" said Hassan. "Tell Kucsuk Pasha that he must give his horses the clouds to eat; the hay of the Magyars is there, it seems."

This messenger had no sooner departed than a whole embassy arrived from the Janissaries, and the whole lot of them energetically demanded that they should be led into battle at once.

"What?" inquired Hassan mockingly, "has your hay fallen short too, then?" The Janissaries are infantry, by the way.

"It is glory we are running short of," said the leader of the deputation stolidly; "it bores us to stand staring idly into the eyes of the enemy."

"Then don't stare idly at them any longer; away with those mutinous dogs and impale them, and put them on the highest hillock that the whole army may see them."

The bodyguard, after a fierce struggle, overpowered the Janissaries, and pending their impalement, locked them up in the cellar of the cloisters.By this time Hassan Pasha was in the most horrible temper; and just at that unlucky moment who should arrive but BallÓ, the envoy of the Prince of Transylvania.

Hassan, who could not see very well at the best of times, and was now blinded with rage besides, roared at him:

"Whence hast thou come? Who hath sent thee hither? What is thy errand?"

"I come from Kiuprile, sir," replied BallÓ blandly.

"What a good-for-nothing blackguard this Kiuprile must be to send to me such a rogue as thou art, except in chains and fetters."

"Well, of course he knows that I am the envoy of Transylvania, and represent the Prince."

"Represent the Prince, eh? Art thou the Prince's cobbler that thou standest in his shoes? Hast thou brought soldiers with thee?"

"Gracious sir——"

"Thou hast not, then? Not another word! Hast thou brought money?"

"Gracious sir!"

"Not even money! Wherefore, then, hast thou come at all? Canst thou pay the allotted tribute?"

"Gracious sir!"

"Don't gracious sir me, but answer—yes or no!"

"Well, but——"

"Then why not?"

"The land is poor, sir. The heavy hand of God is upon it."

"Thou must settle that with God, then, and pray that it may not feel my heavy hand also. Wherefore, then, hast thou come?"

BallÓ made up his mind to swallow the bitter morsel.

"I have come to implore you to remit the annual tribute."

At first Hassan did not know what to say.

"Hast thou become wooden, then," he said at last, "thou and thy whole nation? What right have ye to ask for a remission of the tribute?"

"Gracious sir, the tribute is five times more than what Gabriel Bethlen was wont to pay."

"Gabriel Bethlen was a fine fellow who paid in iron what he did not pay in silver; if he paid fourteen thousand thalers for the privilege of fighting alongside of us, ye may very well pay down eighty thousand for sitting comfortably at your own firesides. What, only eighty thousand for Transylvania, a state that is always digging up gold and silver, when a single sandjak16 pays the Pasha of Thessalonica twice as much?"

At these words the national pride awoke in the breast of BallÓ.

"Sir, Thessalonica is a subject province, and its Pasha has unlimited power over his sandjaks, but Transylvania is a free state."

"And who told thee that it shall not become a sandjak like the rest?" said Hassan grimly. "Before the moon has waxed and waned again twice, take my word for it that a Turkish Pasha shall sit on the throne of Transylvania! Dost thou hear me? By the prophet I swear it."

"The Grand Seignior has also sworn that the ancient rights of Transylvania should never be infringed. He swore it on the Koran and by the Prophet."

"It is beneath the dignity of the Grand Seignior, our present Sultan," cried Hassan, "to remember the oath sworn by the great Suleiman; not what he says, but what his viziers wish, will happen. And vainly do ye entrust your heads to his hand, while the sword of execution remains in our hands! I'll humble you, ye stony-headed, most obstinate of all nations! Ye shall be no different from the Bosnian rajas who themselves pull the plough!"

BallÓ raised his head with a bitter look before the wrathful vizier."Then, sir, you must find another population for Transylvania, for you will not find there now the men you seek. You may see no end of murdered Magyars there, but a degraded Magyar you will never find."

At these words Hassan drew his sword, and with his own hand would have decapitated the presumptuous ambassador, but the mamelukes dragged him away, assuring the Pasha that they would impale him along with the Janissaries.

"Place the stake in front of my window that I may speak to the insolent wolf while he is well spitted."

The men-at-arms did indeed thrust BallÓ into the cellar along with the Janissaries, and began to plant a long, sharp-pointed stake in front of the Pasha's window, when, all at once, a frightful din arose behind their backs, for the Janissaries, hearing that their comrades had been condemned to death without mercy, had revolted in a body. In a moment they had cut down those of their officers who remonstrated, and while one body rushed towards the monastery, beating their alarm-drum and blowing their horns, the others attacked the negro giants guarding the impalement stakes already planted on the top of the hill, and in a few moments the executioners were themselves writhing on the stakes.

Meanwhile the mamelukes of Hassan, who were preparing to resist the insurgents, put to flight by the furious Janissaries, made for the courtyard of the cloister and its garden, which was surrounded by a stone wall, and after barricading the entrances, succeeded with great difficulty in shutting the iron gates in the faces of their assailants, and prepared vigorously to defend them.

The insurgents surrounded the monastery, and bombarding its windows with bullets and darts, began to besiege it at long-firing distance.

Hassan, distracted by rage and fear, fled into the tower of the monastery, leaving his guards to defend the gates till the other divisions of the army should come to quell the insurgents, but they did not stir. Hassan perceived from his tower that not a man from Kiuprile's army was coming to his assistance, though they very well could see his jeopardy and hear the din of the firing a long way off. On the other side the Moldavians had pitched their camp on the hills, but it never entered their minds to draw nearer; on the contrary, they were only too delighted to see Turks devour Turks in this fashion. Ismail Pasha's army seemed rather to be retreating than approaching, and from Kucsuk and his son he durst not hope for assistance, as they were his personal enemies.

At that moment the insurgents caught sight of the stake planted before the window, and set up a howl of fury.

"Ah, ha! Hassan had this planted here for himself. Let's fix up Hassan!"

With a shudder the Vizier reflected on the enormous difference between the throne of Transylvania and the stake on which he might be planted instead, and cursed softly as he murmured to himself:

"That rogue of a Christian must have prayed to his God that I might be brought to shame here;" and grasping in his terror the solitary bell-rope that hung there, and winding it round his neck, he stood by the window, so that if the rebels should burst through the gates he might leap out and hang himself, rather than that they should wreak their horrible threats upon him.

The night had now set in, but the besiegers kindled pine branches, by whose spluttering light they streamed round the monastery; and then came a sudden and continuous firing of guns and beating of drums and a frightful braying of buffalo horns.

The banner of danger had already been planted on the summit of the tower, but from no quarter did help arise, and from time to time the sound of a bell rang through the air as a chance bullet struck it.Hassan, full of terror, drew back behind the window curtains. Suddenly a yell still more terrible than the hitherto pervading tumult filled his ear—the besiegers had discovered the cellar in which their comrades had been confined, and, bursting in the doors, liberated them, and the Transylvanian deputy along with them, who speedily left this scene of uproar behind him.

At the sight of their bound and fettered comrades, the Janissaries' wrath increased ten-fold. The leader of the released captives, waving an axe over his head with a fierce howl, and hurling himself at the iron gate, hammered away like the roaring of guns; whilst the rest of them, who hitherto had been firing at the windows from a distance, now attacked the entrances with unrestrainable fury, raining showers of blows upon the gates.

But the gates were of good strong iron plates, well barricaded below with quadraginal paving-stones. The besiegers' arms grew weary, and the mamelukes on the roof flung stones and heavy beams down upon them, doing fearful execution among their serried ranks; whilst every mameluke who fell from his perch, pierced by a bullet, was instantly torn to pieces by the crowd, which flung back his head at the defenders.

"Draw back!" cried the officer in command, who stood foremost amidst the storm of rafters and bullets. "Run for the guns! At the bottom of that hill I saw a mortar planted in the ground; draw it forth, and we'll fire upon the walls."

In an instant the whole Janissary host had withdrawn from below the monastery, and the whole din died away. Yet the dumb silence was more threatening, more terrible, than the uproar had been. Very soon a dull rumbling was audible, drawing nearer and nearer every instant; it was the rolling of a gun-carriage full of artillery. Hundreds of them were pushing it together, and were rapidly advancing with the heavy, shapeless guns. At last they placed one in position opposite the monastery; it was a heavy iron four-and-twenty pound culverin, whose voice would be audible at the distance of four leagues. This they planted less than fifteen yards from the monastery, and aimed it at the gate.

"There is no help save with God!" cried Hassan in despair; and he took off his turban lest they should thereby recognise his dead body.

At that instant a trumpet sounded, and the cavalry of Kucsuk Pasha appeared in battle array, making its way through the congested masses of the insurgents; while Feriz Beg, at the head of his Spahis, skilfully surrounded them, and cut off their retreat.

Kucsuk Pasha, with a drawn sword in his hand, trotted straight up to the gun and stood face to face with its muzzle.

"Are ye faithful sons of the prophet, or fire-worshippers, giaurs, and idolators, that ye attack the faithful after this fashion?" he asked the insurgents.

At these words the ringleaders of the insurgents came forward.

"We are Janissaries," he said, "the flowers of the Prophet's garden, who are wont to pluck the weeds we find there."

"I know you, but you know me; ye are good soldiers, but I am a good soldier too. Hath Allah put swords into the hands of good soldiers that they may fall upon one another? Ye would weep for me if I fell because of you, and I would weep for you if ye fell because of me—but where would be the glory of it? What! Here with the foe in front of you, ye would wage war among yourselves, to your own shame, and to the joy of the stranger? Is not that sword accursed which is not drawn against the foe?"

"Yet accursed also is the sword which returns to its sheath unblooded."

"What do ye want?"

"We want to fight."

"And can you only find enemies among yourselves?""Our first enemy is cowardice, and cowardice sits in the seat of that general who alone is afraid when the whole camp wants to fight. We would first slay fear, and then we would slay the foe."

"Why not slay the foe first?"

"We will go alone against the whole camp of the enemy if the rest refuse."

"Good; I will go with you."

"Thou?"

"I and my son with all our squadrons."

At these words the mutineers passed, in an instant, from the deepest wrath to the sublimest joy. "To battle!" they cried. "Kucsuk also is coming, and Feriz will help!" These cries spread from mouth to mouth. And immediately the drums began to beat another reveille, the horns gave forth a very different sound, they turned the cannons round and dragged them to the river's bank, and began to build a bridge over the Raab with the beams and rafters that had been hurled down upon them.

The hostile camp lay about four hours' march away, on the opposite bank, between two forests, and by an inexplicable oversight, had left that portion of the river's bank absolutely unguarded.

The Janissaries swam to and fro in the water strengthening the posts and stays of the improvised bridge by tying them stoutly together, and by the time the night had begun to grow grey, the first bridge ever thrown over the Raab was ready and the infantry began to cross it.

It was only then that the German-Hungarian camp perceived the design of the enemy, and speedily sent three regiments of musketeers against the Turks, who fought valiantly with the Janissaries, and drove them right back upon the bridge, where a bloody tussle ensued as fresh divisions hastened up to sustain the hardly-pressed Mussulmans.

Meanwhile a second bridge had been got ready, over which Kucsuk's cavalry quickly galloped and fell upon the rear of the musketeers.These warriors, taken by surprise and perceiving the preponderance of the enemy, and obtaining no assistance from their own headquarters, quickly flung down their firearms and made helter-skelter for their own trenches.

The next moment the two combating divisions were a confused struggling mass. Kucsuk's swift Spahis cut off the retreat of the Christian infantry; only for a few moments was there a definite struggle, the tussle being most obstinate round the standards, till at last they also began to totter and fall one after the other, and three thousand Christian souls mounted on high together, pursued by a roar of triumph from the Mussulmans, who, seizing the advanced trenches, planted thereon their half-moon streamers, and plundered the tents which remained defenceless before them.

At that moment the Christian host was near to destruction, and if Kiuprile had crossed the river and Hassan Pasha had shared the fight with Kucsuk, he would have become famous.

But the two chief commanders remained obstinately behind on the further shore. Kiuprile, who the evening before had himself wanted to begin the fight when he had received a negative answer, had now not even saddled his nag, and looked on with sinister sangfroid while the extreme wing of the army was engaged. Hassan, on the other hand, would have liked nothing better if the Janissaries, and Kucsuk their auxiliary, had lost the battle thus begun without orders, and so far from hastening to their assistance remained sitting up in his tower. He could see nothing of the battle, but he heard a cry, and fancying that it was the death-yell of the Janissaries, took his beads from his girdle and began zealously to pray that the Prophet would keep open for them the gates of Paradise.

"Master, master!" exclaimed Yffim Beg, "gird on thy sword and to horse!"

The Pasha heard nothing. At last Yffim Beg, in despair, seized the bell-rope, and pulled the old bell right above Hassan's head, whereupon the latter rushed in terror to the window.

"What is it? What dost thou want?"

"Hasten, sir!" roared Yffim Beg. "Kucsuk Pasha has beaten the enemy, taken their trenches, and is plundering their tents. Do not allow him to have all the glory of scattering the Christians!"

Hassan leapt from his seat. If he had heard that Kucsuk's men were being cut to pieces he would have gone on praying, but Kucsuk triumphed—had all the triumph to himself. The thought was a keen spur to his mind. Up everyone who could stir hand or foot! Forward Spahis and Arabs! To battle every true believer! Let the dervishes go up in the tower and sing dirges for the fallen! Let the ground shake beneath the rolling of the guns! Let the horns ring out for now is the day of glory!

In an instant the camp was alert, and crowds of warriors rushed towards the bridge. Every man pressed hard on the heels of his fellow; those who were crowded into the water did their best to reach the opposite shore by swimming; whole companies swam through on horseback, and the heavy iron guns moved forward as rapidly as if they had wings. It was only now that the vast numbers of the Ottoman host became manifest, it seemed suddenly to spring out of the ground in every direction; the tiny little cramped Christian camp over against them looked like an island in an inundation.

In the very centre of the host could be seen Hassan Pasha with a brilliant suite, twenty horse-tail banners fluttered around him, the pick of his veterans at his side. On the left was the army of Ismail Pasha; on the right were the hosts of the Moldavians. Their immediate objective was the trenches already occupied by Kucsuk Pasha.

At that moment Yffim Beg was seen galloping along the front of the host with the Vizier's commands for Kucsuk Pasha.

"Ye remain where now you are, and move no farther till a fresh command arrives. Feriz Beg and his battalion move forward along the outermost wing."

Hassan could not endure that two such heroes should help each other in the battle, and that the son should deliver the father. Kucsuk beat the tattoo. Feriz Beg moved along the left wing, where he formed the reserve.

Then the reveille sounded; a hideous yell filled the air; the Mussulman host, with bloodthirsty rage, rushed upon the front of the Christian army. No power on earth can save them! But what is this? Suddenly the impetus of the assailants is stayed. Along the front of the camp of the Christian infantry star-shaped trenches have been dug during the night and planted full of sharp stakes. The foremost row of the assailants pause terror-stricken in front of these trenches, and for an instant the onset is arrested. But only for an instant. The powerful impact of the rearward masses flings them into the deadly ditch, one after another they fall upon the pointed stakes, a mortal yell drowns the cry of battle, in a few moments the star-shaped trenches are filled with corpses and the rushing throng tramples over the dead bodies of their comrades to get to the other side of the ditch. And now the roar of the cannons begin. Up to that moment the guns of the Christians have remained inactive, concealed behind the gabions. Now their gaping throats face the attacking host. At a single signal the roar of eighty iron throats is heard, bullets and chain-shot make their whirring way through the serried ranks, the crackling mortars discharge sackloads of acorn-shaped balls, while the fire-spitting grenades terrify the rearmost ranks.

The Mussulmans host recoils in terror, leaving their dead and wounded behind them. Horrible spectacle! Instead of the lately brilliant ranks the ground is strewn with mangled bloody limbs, writhing like worms in the dust. The next moment the splendid array again covers the ground; the corpses are no longer visible, they are hidden by the feet of the living. The beaten squadrons are sent to the rear; fresh battalions fill their places; the assault is renewed. The fire of the guns no longer keeps them back. They cast down their eyes, shout "Allah!" and rush forward. An earth-rending report resounds, a fiery mine has exploded beneath the feet of the assailants; fragments of human limbs intermingled with strips of tempest-tossed banners fly up into the air amidst whirling clouds of smoke. The second assault is also flung back, and in the meantime the Christian army has succeeded in drawing a line of wagons across their front. And now a third, now a fourth, assault is delivered, each more furious than the last. The Christians begin to despair; every regiment of the Turkish host is now engaged with them, only Kucsuk has received no order to advance. Hassan would win the battle without him.

There he stands, together with his staff, directing the most perverse of battles, hurling his swarms against unassailable rocks, assaulting entrenched places with cavalry; at one time distributing orders to regiments which had ceased to exist, at another sending to consult with commanders who had fallen before his very eyes. Those around him listened to his words with astonishment, and not one of them durst say: "Dismount from your horse, you cannot see ten yards in front of you!" The din of the renewed assaults sounded in his ears like a cry of triumph. "Look how they waver!" he cried; "look how the Christian ranks waver, and how their banners are falling in the dust! Shoot them, shoot them down!" and none durst say to him: "These are thy hosts whose death-cries thou dost hear, and it is the fire from the Christian guns which mow down whole ranks of thy army!"

The Ottoman host had begun its tenth assault, when Hassan sent a courier to Kiuprile on the opposite shore with this message: "Thou canst return to Paphlagonia! We have won the battle without thee. Tell them at home what thou hast seen!"Kiuprile, seriously alarmed lest he should have no part in the glory of the contest, immediately mounted the whole of his cavalry, flung a bridge over the river, and began to cross it.

This happened at the very moment when Ismail Pasha was leading the Osmanlis to the tenth assault.

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, PetnehÁzy.

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 PetnehÁzy, 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-glass 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 cuirassiers and PetnehÁzy's hussars.

PetnehÁzy 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 PetnehÁzy 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, Hassan did not perceive that the Moldavians had fled, and nobody durst tell him so. Ismail Pasha immediately hastened to fill up the gap; but before he had reached the spot, Toggendorf's cuirassiers were upon him, and he was caught between two fires in a moment. The Janissaries received the full brunt of the swords of the cuirassiers 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 assistance.

All this was taking place within two hundred yards of Hassan 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 Hassan 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 Hassan, 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 cuirassiers of Toggendorf and the hussars of PetnehÁzy, 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.