Two months had passed away since Max Emmanuel assumed command of the imperial army. During this time the besiegers had dug trenches and thrown up embankments; had demolished fortifications, and thrown bridges across the Save, with a view to attacking the Turks both in front and rear. The latter had been obliged to look on while all this had been progressing, impotent, in spite of their valor, to stop proceedings. Of course they had thrown bombs and sprung mines under the feet of their enemies, but nothing dismayed the Austrians, and finally they were prepared to assault the city.

The duke had twice called upon Achmed Pacha to surrender. The first summons, sent by a Turkish prisoner, was laconically answered by the gibbeting of the unfortunate messenger within sight of the Austrian camp. To the second, Achmed Pasha replied by a thousand greetings to the brave Duke of Lorraine; adding that the siege would terminate as it pleased God.

"And we are here to carry out His will," observed the duke, laughing. "The miners must cease their work neither day nor night; they may be relieved, but must not stop. Tell them that if they work me a passage to the fortress by the 16th of September, I will give to each one of them from this day forward a gratuity of two ducats a day."

On the 15th of September the Turkish commander was a third time summoned to surrender. This last summons was treated with contemptuous silence. It had been delivered to Achmed Pacha, while, accompanied by his Janizaries, he was on his way to the mosque. When he had finished its perusal he addressed two of his officers that were walking on either side of him.

"What answer would you advise me to make to the Christian commander- in-chief?" asked he of the first. "In the name of Allah and the Prophet, I call upon you to speak according to your convictions."

The two Janizaries exchanged glances of uneasiness; but Achmed
Pacha's stern, handsome face was inscrutable in its composure.

"We are sorely pressed," replied the officer, mustering courage to speak. "Unless Allah work a miracle in our favor, we must succumb; it seems to me, therefore, that a useless defence will but exasperate the enemy."

Achmed Pacha turned to the other. "And you?" said he, mildly.

"Most illustrious leader of the armies of the faithful," said the second officer, quite reassured as to consequences, "if you insist upon hearing the candid opinion of the least of your servants, I must venture to say that our garrison is exhausted and spiritless. Allah has forsaken us, and it were better to stop further effusion of blood by an honorable surrender."

Achmed's eyes now darted fire, and the angry blood rushed to his pale brow. He signed to a third officer to advance.

"You have heard these traitors," said he in a loud, distinct voice. "Off with their cowardly heads, and bear them through the city on pikes, while a herald shall come after you, crying out to all who choose to profit by the warning, 'Such is the fate of the traitors that counsel submission to the Christian!'"

The officers were thrown to the ground, and, in a few moments, their headless trunks lay stretched on the earth, while their heads were borne aloft through the streets of Belgrade.

"Justice is satisfied," said Achmed Pacha, solemnly; "now let us betake ourselves to prayer. Let us thank Allah, who has turned away the perils by which we were threatened, and is preparing for the faithful a great triumph over their unbelieving foe. The grand- vizier is at hand with re-enforcements, and ere long the Christians will be put to ignominious flight."

This declaration of the general soon made its way to every house in the city, and caused universal joy. The soldiers crowded around their chief and swore to defend Belgrade until the grand-vizier arrived.

"And the Sultan will reward you all," said Achmed. "The booty will be left to the soldiery, and the commander of the faithful will pour out the treasures of his generosity from the horn of his beneficence. The defenders of Belgrade will be the nearest to his throne and his heart, and to your children shall descend the honors he will confer! Now come and let us praise Allah for the glory you are about to win!"

And with this flourish of promises, Achmed Pacha entered the mosque. Once there, he fell upon his knees, and prayed after the following fashion—:

"Allah, forgive me the lies which I have just uttered before the gates of Thy holy temple. Allah, make true my words: send hither, I implore Thee, the help I have ventured to promise to my unhappy garrison; for the two unfortunates whom I have just executed were the speakers of truth; if a miracle is not vouchsafed to us, we are lost."

In the Christian camp Max Emmanuel was making ready to storm the city; and his troops, with beating hearts, were eagerly awaiting the signal to begin the assault.

"You are really going to commence your attack?" asked the Duke of
Mantua of the elector.

"Not only to commence, but to finish it," was the reply. "Before the sun sets, Belgrade must be ours."

"Very flue and sententious," replied the duke, with a shrug, "but, unfortunately, impracticable."

"Well—nobody can deny that your highness is a FAR-SEEING warrior," said Max, laughing, and remembering Mohacz. [Footnote: The Duke of Mantua had promised to come to the assistance of the emperor. In 1637 he visited the imperial camp, where he was received with every mark of consideration. On the morning of the battle of Mohacz, as the troops were about to make the attack, he came up to General Caprara, and in the coolest manner asked from what point he could best observe the fight. The general replied, "Your highness must join the staff of the commander-in-chief if you wish to look on without being mixed up in the general engagement."—"But the staff are in constant danger, as well as the rest," was his answer, "and I might be struck by a ball or a bomb-shell."—"Oh!" cried Caprara, "you wish to look on without endangering your life! Then go upto the top of yonder mountain." The duke went, and remained there until the battle was ended.] "You have an eagle-glance for a field of battle, and I propose to renew for you to-day the spectacle which last year you enjoyed looking on, while the rest of us were fighting."

"Think you that Belgrade is a bee-hive, and that the Turks are to be smoked therefrom, like a swarm of bees?"

"I think that Belgrade is peopled by Turks, not bees; and yet I shall smoke them out of it this very day. Will you bet me five thousand ducats that I do not?"

"Yes, I take the bet; and although five thousand ducats is a considerable sum, I sincerely hope I may lose it. I shall make, haste to return to my villa, whence I can look on the assault, while I pray for the success of your arms."

"We shall have unspeakable comfort in the thought," cried the elector, galloping off to join his staff.

"A pious Moses that," said he to Prince Eugene. "I am really glad that he has again taken his leave. I lose all my pride of manhood when I look upon such a poltroon, and think that we are of the same species."

"He is a natural curiosity," said Eugene, "a mere exception to his race. I rather enjoy the contemplation of such a sporadic case of cowardice."

The attack was to begin at five points simultaneously. When the fifth courier had reported his division to be in readiness, the elector, giving orders to his staff which dispersed them for a while, turned to Eugene and began in a low voice:

"Eugene, I feel like a lover who has just become a husband. My heart beats with anticipation of bliss, and is all aflame with desire."

"I should think you had clasped Bellona to your heart so often, that you would have learned to accept her favors without excitement or anxiety," returned Eugene, playfully.

Max glanced at the calm and self-possessed prince, and replied: "You shall teach me self-control, dear Eugene, for you have wonderful mastery over your emotions. Did I not know what a warm heart is throbbing under that composed demeanor, I should imagine Prince Eugene to be a mere compound of wisdom and self-possession; and yet I know that, at this very moment, that heart is burning with love for one who, in the hour of battle, is dearer to him than ever. Eugene, this is a moment of solemnity enough for me to ask you whether Laura lives?"

"I do not know," murmured he, nervously grasping his reins, and becoming very pale. "I have no news, and yet, if she were dead, my heart would tell me so; I believe, then, that she is alive, and, should I fall to-day, there hangs a medal lion around my neck (her dear portrait), which must be sent to her. Say that I died loving her beyond all power of speech to convey; that for her love, I bless and thank her, trusting that she will forgive me for having been the cause of all her misfortunes. I am grateful to you, Max, for having spoken of her to me. If I die, this is my last will."

"Enviable saint, that has but one legacy and one love! I shall take very good care not to entertain you with the history, in many volumes, of all my various loves. But the last of them you can greet for me, should I fall to-day; and you will do it cordially, for she is Laura's sister-in-law. Tell my beautiful Lucretia that I have been happy in her love; and, although I would not have her mourn for me, I hope she will sometimes waft me a thought or a gentle sigh. And now—to arms, and to victory! You promise to fight at my side, do you not?"

"Yes, Max—nothing but death shall part us, until Belgrade is ours."

"Give me your left hand, while, with the right, I give the signal for the attack."

So saying, the elector held aloft a silken flag, which fluttered for a moment, and then boldly caught the breeze.—There was a short silence; then every Christian gun proclaimed defiance to the Turk.

Early in the action, General Scarffenberg was mortally wounded; but he had carried his point of attack, and with his dying eyes he saw the Austrians mount the breach, and drive away the enemy at the point of the bayonet. The bastion once reached, the men, almost reeling with fatigue, paused for a moment to regain breath. The enemy taking advantage of the halt, returned and poured out such numbers of fresh assailants that the Christians from sheer exhaustion began to falter, and were about to be driven back, when Prince Eugene, seeing their danger, sprang forward to General Sereni, and called for re-enforcements.

Placing himself at their head, the bastion was recaptured, and the
Austrians rushed eagerly forward to follow up their success.

But just beyond the breach lay a deep, wide trench, behind which the enemy had fortified themselves, and were now pouring out a murderous fire.

"The line of these breastworks must be broken," said the elector.

But the question was—how were they to be broken? Not a path was to be seen conducting thither: and the imperialists, hurried forward by the eager troops behind, who were unaware of the impediment in front, seemed to have no alternative but that of inevitable death or retreat.

Retreat! odious word, which the officers could not bring their lips to pronounce. And yet there was no possibility of advancing; and to remain stationary was to offer themselves for massacre. The soldiers were so closely packed together that they could make no use of their weapons, while the Turks were shooting them down like so many birds in a battue. The elector stood by the side of the breach, and called a hasty council of his officers.

"We have done enough for to-day," said General Sereni. "We can intrench ourselves behind the breach, and renew the attack to- morrow."

"The men are exhausted," urged another. "We will surely capture the fortress to-morrow."

The elector had listened in perfect silence to the various changes rung on the same idea; but he was not altogether convinced. He now turned to Eugene, who spoke not a word, but gazed sharply from the trench to the serried ranks of Turks on the opposite side. He raised his eyes with a mournful, questioning look, to the face of the perplexed commander. Their glances met, and a smile of perfect understanding passed between them.

The elector hurried forward to the brink of the trench; behind him came Eugene. Both drew their swords, and, brandishing them above their heads, Max Emmanuel called out in clear, distinct, and ringing tones:

"Comrades, look, and follow me!"

Then the two heroes sprang into the trench, and the troops rushed forward to follow them. Many dislocated their limbs, as they leaped down; but such as escaped without broken bones went onward, fighting like tigers.

Suddenly an arrow pierced the cheek of the elector, and his face was covered with blood.

"You are wounded, dear Max!" cried Eugene, affrighted.

The elector laughed, and, drawing out the arrow, replied, "Not at all; this is Bellona's first kiss."

And, like a furious lion, he dashed ahead, and avenged the kiss by many a stout blow of his sword.

The Janizaries were driven from their breastworks, but, ere they went, one of them, astonished at the prowess of Eugene, whom he took to be a lad, was determined to make short work of the insolent boy that was slaying right and left like another David.

He raised his brawny arm, and smiled contemptuously upon so puny an adversary. But when he would have dealt his blow, it was parried by a thrust of such power that he reeled and almost lost his balance. In his fury he raised his cimeter and cleft the helmet of the prince in twain.

For a moment Eugene was dizzy, though uninjured; but, quickly recovering his senses, he made a lunge at the Janizary and ran him through the body. Without waiting to see him die, the prince drew out his sabre and darted onward. The imperialists shouted and cheered him as he went, but the Turks, too, had witnessed the deed, and more than one musket was vengefully aimed at the slayer of the Paynim Goliath. One—one, alas! has reached the mark. It has pierced his foot, and he is no longer in a condition to make another step. Heaven be praised that the Turks have taken flight, and that the Christians have possessed themselves of the trench! Eugene has the comfort of knowing that he will not he a captive, and this assurance gives him strength to drag himself within speaking distance of a group of soldiers.

"Bear me away, if you please," said he; "I cannot walk."

Two of them hastened to his relief, and bore him tenderly away to the spot where a field-surgeon was attending to the wounded.

The town and citadel have fallen; nothing now remains to the Turks but the castle, from the windows of which a white flag is proclaiming their defeat and surrender. But the Christians do not see it; and the elector, followed by his victorious troops, rushes, sword in hand, to the prison wherein the Christian prisoners are confined. The dungeons were crowded with fugitive Turks, who had betaken themselves thither as the safest place to be found. They cried for mercy, and it was granted them. Their lives were spared, but they were prisoners. Achmed Pacha was among them. He came forward and bent the knee before his conqueror.

"Allah has willed it," said he, "and may his name be praised! General, thou hast prevailed, and I am thy prisoner. I ask but one favor of thee. Give me no Greek or Rascian for my master; let me serve a German."

The elector smilingly raised him, and explained that Christians did not enslave their prisoners of war. "You have defended yourself heroically," added he, "and we honor a brave enemy. The Emperor of Germany alone is the arbiter of your fate."

"Allah will decide what that fate is to be," was the pious response of the Mussulman.

The Elector of Bavaria has won his wager; but what cares a victorious hero for ducats or dastards like the Duke of Mantua?

"Where is Eugene?" was his first inquiry. And, not seeing him among his followers, he darted out of the castle in search of his friend.

The question passed from man to man, until one was found at last to answer it. The prince was in the hands of the imperial surgeons, who were vainly endeavoring to extract the ball.

The elector dragged one of them aside. "Is he dangerously wounded?" asked he, anxiously.

"He may not die of the wound," was the surgeon's reply; "but it will be tedious and very painful."

"He will live!" cried Max, wiping away a tear, and hastening to the litter whereon Eugene was lying.

He bent over him, and gently touched his forehead.

Eugene raised his large, melancholy eyes, and looking upon the beaming face that encountered his, he pointed to the wound, around which the blood had already coagulated, and said:

"Happy Max, whom Bellona has kissed! Me she has trodden under foot."