by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER III
One of the two men who crossed the morass on stilts was Master Matyas,whose distance marches during this campaign were something phenomenal.Matyas found Count Vavel with his troop already at Eszterhaza, andapprized him at once of De Fervlans's arrival at the bridge-inn. TheVolons had not yet rested, but they had traveled over passable roads,and were not so exhausted. Their leader at once gave orders to mount.
When Ludwig saw that Katharina also prepared to accompany the troop, hehurried to her side.
"Don't come any farther, Katharina," he begged. "Remain here, where youwill be perfectly safe. Something might happen to you when we meet theenemy."
Katharina's smiling reply was:
"No, my dear friend. I have paid a very high entrance-fee to see thistragedy, for that you will kill Barthelmy Fervlans I am as certain asthat there is a just God in heaven!"
"But _your_ presence will make me fear at a moment when I must not feelafraid--afraid for your safety."
"Oh, don't trouble about yourself. I know you better. When you come insight of the enemy you will forget all about _me_. As for me, I am goingwith you."
The troop now set out on the march through the poplar avenue. When theydrew near to Pomogy, Vavel sent a squad in advance to act asskirmishers, while he, with the rest of his men, took possession of asolitary elevation near the road, which was the work of human hands. Itwas composed of the refuse from a soda-factory, and encircled on threesides a low building. Vavel concealed his horsemen behind thisartificial hillock, then, accompanied by Katharina, he ascended to thetop to take a view of the surrounding country.
He could see through his field-glass the bridge across the Raab and theinn at the farther end. The entire region was nothing but morass. Atrench ran from the highway toward Lake Neusiedl; it could be traced bythe dense growth of broom along its edges.
"You are my adjutant," jestingly remarked Vavel to Katharina. "I amgoing down now; for if I should be seen here it will be known what isbehind me. You are a farmer's wife, and will not arouse suspicion; stophere, therefore, and take observations with my glass, and keep meinformed of what happens."
The Marquis de Fervlans was enjoying a tankard of foaming mead when hisadjutant came hastily into the room with the announcement that sometroopers were approaching the bridge on the farther side of the river.De Fervlans hurried from the inn and gave orders to mount. As yet onlythe crimson hats of the troopers could be seen above the tall reeds onthe farther shore.
"Those are Vavel's Volons," said De Fervlans, taking a look through hisglass. "I recognize the uniform from Jocrisse's description. MadameThemire has turned traitor, and sent the count to deal with me insteadof coming herself. Very good! We will show the gentleman that war andstar-gazing are different occupations. He was a soldier once; but Idon't think he paid much attention to military tactics, else he wouldnot have neglected to occupy yon hill, on which I see a peasant womanwith a red kerchief over her head. That is an old soda-factory--I knowthe place well. I should n't wonder if Vavel had concealed some menthere after all! That small body coming this way is evidently bent on askirmishing errand. Well, our tactics will be to lure him from hisconcealment."
He held a consultation with his subordinates; after which he turnedtoward the waiting demons, and called:
"Signor Trentatrante!"
The man came forward--a true type of the gladiator of the Vatican.
"Dismount," ordered the marquis. "Take thirty men, and proceed on footto the farther side of yon thicket, where you will lie in ambush until Ihave begun an assault on the soda-factory over yonder. The men in hidingthere will show up when we approach; I shall then pretend to retreat,and lure them toward the thicket. You will know what to do then--fallupon them in the rear. When you have arrived at the thicket let me know.Set fire to that tallest clump of reeds near the willow-shrubs."
"All right!" returned the signor. Then he selected thirty of hiscompanions, who also dismounted, and they started at once to obey theorders of their leader.
The "peasant woman with a red kerchief over her head," who was standingon the soda-factory hill, called in a low, clear tone to Ludwig:
"De Fervlans is coming with his troop."
"Then we must prepare a greeting for him," responded Vavel. He orderedhis men into their saddles, then sallied forth with them to meet theenemy.
The two bodies of soldiers moving toward each other were very nearlyalike in numbers. Neither seemed to be in a particular hurry to begin anassault. Suddenly a column of smoke rose from the thicket near thebridge--it was the signal De Fervlans was waiting for. He gave orders tohalt. The next instant there was a rattling salute from the demons'carbines. The "peasant woman" on the hill covered her face with bothhands and shivered. The messengers of death flew about the head of herlover, but left him unharmed.
Vavel now moved nearer to the attacking foe, and himself made straightfor the leader. One of De Fervlans's lieutenants, however, a thick-set,sun-browned Sicilian, met the count's assault. There was a littlesword-play, then Vavel struck his adversary's blade from his hand with aforce that sent it whizzing through the air, and with his left handthrust the Sicilian, who was reaching for his pistols, from the saddle.
Nor had Vavel's companions been idle the while. The first assault was asuccess for the count's troop. De Fervlans now ordered a retreat. Thedeath-heads looked upon this as a victory, and eagerly pursued theretreating foe. But the woman on the hill had already perceived that theretreat was but a feint. She saw the demons crouching among the reeds inthe thicket, and guessed their intention.
"Vavel!" she shouted at the top of her voice, "Vavel, take care! Look toyour rear!"
She imagined that her lover would hear her amid the tumult of the fight.
But Vavel had ears and eyes only for what was in front of him. Nearerand nearer he approached to the trap De Fervlans had laid for him. Hewas in it! The trench was behind him now, and the demons in ambush werepreparing to spring upon their prey.
Katharina could look no longer. She ran down the hill, sprang on hermule, and galloped after her lover.
De Fervlans's retreat was conducted in proper order, step by step, fromearth-clod to earth-clod.
Suddenly Katharina discovered that a mule was an obstinate beast. Theone she was riding stopped abruptly, and would not advance another step.In vain she urged and coaxed. At last she sprang from the saddle, and onfoot made her way toward the scene of the fray.
At this moment the demons creeping steathily along the trench sprangfrom their concealment, their bayonets ready for action. They were onthe point of firing a volley into the black backs of the Volons, when arattling fire in their own rear brought down half of them dead andwounded. The uninjured on turning found themselves confronted by SatanLaczi and his comrades, who, black and slimy from their passage throughthe morass, sprang like tigers upon the foe.
"Strike for their heads!" commanded Satan Laczi, as, with sabers drawn,the ex-robbers rushed upon the bewildered demons, who had at last mettheir match.
When De Fervlans heard the firing in the neighborhood of the trench, hebelieved it to come from the muskets of his own men, and quickly soundedan attack. The demons, who had been feigning to retreat, now turned andmet their pursuers, and a hand-to-hand conflict began.
Vavel also had heard the firing behind him, and believed himselfsurrounded by the enemy. He beckoned to his trumpeter, to whom he wishedto give orders to sound a retreat, but the man's horse unfortunatelystumbled, and threw his rider to the earth. Three demons, at once sprangto capture the fallen trumpeter; but Vavel, who knew how necessary theman was to him, hastened to his assistance.
De Fervlans in amazement watched this unequal encounter. A masterlyconflict arouses admiration even in an enemy; and Vavel certainlyproved himself a master in the art of fighting.
He fought in cold blood; he was not in the least excited. He made nounnecessary thrusts, but wounded his three adversaries in the hand, theelbow, the forearm, whereby he render
ed them incapable of furthercombat. De Fervlans saw how his skilled demons gave way before Vavel'smasterly thrusts, while the Volons drew their unfortunate trumpeter frombeneath his horse, and assisted him to mount again, after they had alsohelped the horse to his feet.
But the trumpet was now useless; it was filled with mud. Consequently asignal for retreat could not be sounded.
A dense mass of wild-hop vines inclosed the eastern side of the scene ofaction. De Fervlans glanced impatiently toward this green wall. Thearmed men who should penetrate it would decide the victory.
Even as the thought flashed through his brain, the tangle of vines beganto shake violently; but the first man to appear therefrom was not SignorTrentatrante, as De Fervlans had expected, but Satan Laczi, with hisferocious followers.
The attack from this point was so unexpected that De Fervlans for amoment seemed stupefied; then quickly recovering himself, he dashed intothe thick of the fight, Vavel following his example. By this time thetrumpet had been cleansed, but no orders were received for a retreatsignal; instead, the sound it shrilled above the fearful turmoil was:"Forward! forward!"
With the blood pouring from a gaping wound in his head, Satan Laczi,swinging a saber he had captured from a foe, now rushed to meet DeFervlans, who at once recognized the former robber.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, preparing to meet the furious onslaught, "you havenot yet found your way to the gallows!"
"No; here in Hungary only traitors are hanged," retorted Satan Laczi, ina loud voice, as, with a mighty leap that would have done credit to ahorse, he sprang toward the marquis, caught the reins from his hands,and with true robber-wit called: "Surrender, brother-rascal!"
De Fervlans raised himself in his stirrups and brought his sabersavagely down on the robber's head. This was the second serious cutSatan Laczi had received that day, and was evidently enough to calm hisenthusiasm. He staggered to one side, made several vain attempts tostraighten himself, then fell suddenly to the earth. His own blade,however, remained in the breast of De Fervlans's horse, where he hadthrust it to the hilt.
The marquis hardly had time to leap from the saddle before the poorbeast fell under him.
All seemed lost now. His men were confused and thrown into disorder. Indesperation he tore his pistols from the saddle of his fallen horse.Only a single shrub separated him from his enemy,--twenty paces,--and DeFervlans was a celebrated shot.
Count Vavel saw what was coming, and he too drew his pistol.
"Good night, Chevalier Vavel!" in a mocking tone called De Fervlans, ashis finger pressed the trigger. There was a sharp report, the ballwhistled through the air--but Vavel did not fall.
"Accept _my_ greeting, marquis!" responded Vavel, He raised his pistol,and fired without taking aim. De Fervlans fell backward to the ground.