The Red, White, and Green

by Herbert Hayens

  CHAPTER XV.

  _HOW STEPHEN CARRIED THE FLAG._

  "George!"

  "All right, old boy," I answered in a whisper, rubbing my eyes. "Ibelieve I've been asleep."

  "I'm sure you have. But wake up now; the word to be ready has come."

  At the very moment of waking I knew something was wrong, but it was notuntil my brother spoke the second time that I remembered where we were.

  By some odd chance I had been dreaming of the years gone by, whenStephen and I were merry children playing in the old home at Gyula.

  The past had returned to me so vividly--the sound of my father's voice,the picture of my mother's beautiful face and loving smile--that evennow I could scarcely grasp the truth.

  I had forgotten all about the cruel war, the trenches, the comingassault, and the near danger of death, so that the shock of awakeningunnerved me for the moment.

  The word had come! What word? Where was I? Ah! my memory returned witha rush, and I sprang to my feet.

  "Steady, old fellow," said my brother cheerfully; "we mustn't make anoise yet."

  I pressed his hand and whispered,--

  "I had forgotten. I was dreaming we were children at home again."

  "Don't, George; you hurt me," said he sharply, as if in pain, though Ionly pressed his hand gently.

  It was past midnight, and the men were in their places, while the bandsstood massed behind the lines.

  The colonel came to us, and shook each by the hand.

  "One never knows what may happen," he said. "There will be a fearfulstruggle. After Goergei's words the other day, my regiment can't goback; so, in case of accidents, you know--" And he shook our handsagain.

  Rakoczy seemed much graver than usual, but I think he was filled withpity on his men's account.

  Stephen was, on the contrary, much more cheerful.

  "George and I had a solemn leave-taking the other night," he said gaily,"and yet we didn't see a shot fired."

  "Ah!" exclaimed the colonel, responding to his humour; "we have nochance of missing our way this time."

  He moved off to his place, and again all was still.

  The silence and the darkness got on my nerves. I dreaded yet longed forthe signal at the same time.

  We did not see the count, but he had sent a sarcastic message to Stephenduring the evening, appointing a meeting inside the fortress.

  I leaned on my sword, staring into the darkness.

  "Dreary work this!" exclaimed a voice in my ear, and Dobozy joined me.

  Like the rest of us, he looked forward to a terrible slaughter, and hadcome to say a word of farewell.

  "I hope we shall soon go," he continued, after a pause; "the men aregetting nervous."

  "The general's keeping up a tremendous cannonade," I whispered. "Theguns must be nearly red-hot. Why, it's actually getting lighter."

  "Nearly two o'clock," said Stephen. "I suppose the general's beenwaiting for the engineer's report."

  Dobozy left us, and we resumed our watching.

  Although two-thirds of May had run out, it was bitterly cold in thoseearly morning hours, and several times I shivered violently.

  The night was passing, and we could now see our own men, the stillshadowy outlines of surrounding objects, and the ramparts of thefortress.

  At length the moment arrived. A flight of shells and fiery rockets wenthissing and trailing over the stronghold; our men changed from figuresof shadow-land into beings of flesh and blood; a hoarse whisper ofcommand circulated through the trenches; the massed bands stationedbehind broke into soul-stirring music; almost without knowing it we wereadvancing. Stephen, with a last hand-shake, a murmured good-bye, dartedto the front. I headed the company; Rakoczy, to whose eyes the sparklehad returned, led the regiment.

  We moved forward unopposed; Hentzi was saving his ammunition.

  Of the conflict to the right and left I am not competent to speak; Iknow only the doings of our own regiment, and of the battalion led byCount Beula, which chance or fate brought close to us.

  Concerning the Austrians, or rather Croats, who held the fortress, itwould be unjust to attempt to belittle their stubborn bravery. At thebeginning of the siege General Hentzi had made a proud boast, and no manever fulfilled a vaunt more truly.

  As the men with the scaling-ladders ran to plant their burdens, thegreat guns of the fortress boomed out, and instantly the place becamelike a babel.

  Cries of rage and pain rent the air, almost drowning the rattle of themusketry and the roar of the cannon.

  Through the smoke-cloud that shut out our view the white flashes piercedmore and more quickly, as if the artillerymen were not giving themselvesone moment's breathing space.

  A man at my side exclaimed "Oh!" in a surprised sort of way, anddropped, while I barely understood he was dead.

  A few paces farther a bursting shell knocked over half a dozen.

  We were rapidly approaching the thick of the firing.

  "Forward! forward!" cried our colonel cheerfully. "The safest place isat close quarters."

  I remember laughing to myself and thinking it would be even safer atDebreczin with Kossuth and the members of the Diet.

  Bang! bang! The firing grew heavier, and our losses more considerable;but, as Rakoczy had said, there was no retreat for the 9th Honveds.

  After the mess we had made of it before, we were bound to get inside thefortress--that is, if any of us survived to reach the walls, whichseemed doubtful.

  Meanwhile most of the ladder-men were dead or disabled. The stormershad taken their places, and were trying to rear the ladders against theramparts.

  Stephen was with them, his face aflame, his eyes burning withexcitement.

  We were quite near when he got one planted, and instantly began toclimb.

  The light was breaking now, and our fellows cheered madly as they beheldthe lithe, graceful figure springing to the top.

  A group of Croats, led by an officer, waited patiently with bayonetsfixed, and I groaned at the thought of what must happen.

  Inspired by his example, the men crowded behind him eagerly--tooeagerly, as it proved; for the ladder, groaning and creaking beneaththeir weight, snapped off, and the whole party dropped with a crash tothe ground.

  Several never moved again, and I must confess I hoped Stephen was hurt,since it would save him from a sadder fate. To our astonishment,however, he jumped up from the wriggling mass, and was soon cheering onthe survivors to fresh efforts.

  A loud shout on the left proclaimed that something of importance washappening there, and then it was I beheld Count Beula.

  The Croats were yelling with savage joy. Out of a dozen ladders not oneremained upright, and the remnant of the assailants was in retreat, withthe exception of the count.

  I always disliked the man, and indeed to this day I hate him, yet I mustadmit that here at Buda and elsewhere he proved himself a first-classfighting man.

  He stood now alone, save for the dead and wounded; but though thebullets fell around him fast, he never budged an inch.

  The distance was too great for me to see his face clearly, but I feltquite sure his lips were curled in a sarcastic sneer.

  Enemy of mine though he was, I cheered with the rest when, as if tiredof waiting for the runaways to come back, he coolly advanced alone.

  What occurred next, or who induced the battalion to return, I cannotsay, as the colonel immediately gave the signal for the assault.

  The men responded with a cheer. They burned to be on the walls, wherethey could meet the defenders on more equal terms, and the regimentbounded forward like one man.

  Now, too, I missed Stephen, for the fighting became so fierce andconfused that it was impossible to see anything beyond what took placeclose at hand.

  The fire from the great guns continued steadily; but it was lessviolent, and we afterwards learned that three of the pieces had blownup.

  The bullets, howeve
r, rattled down faster than ever, and man after manfell.

  The rest of us rushed on. We were at the breach. Already some of thestormers were entering, and my heart leaped to my mouth as I saw Stephenforemost.

  "My heart leaped to my mouth as I saw Stephen foremost."Page 233.]]

  Plainly he was determined that the count should have no cause to crowover him this time.

  I caught a brief glimpse of Rakoczy. He had been hurt, but his voicewas still cheerful as he encouraged his men forward.

  On and up we went, sometimes packed together, then separated into smallgroups, while frequently one of the foremost came crashing backward,falling at the foot of the battlements.

  Though numbers dropped, the survivors pressed on doggedly. Whatever ourloss, every one knew now that the assault must prove successful.

  Vainly the Croats poured in their murderous volleys; they could not keepus back. We were getting into close touch with them, where steel wouldtake the place of lead.

  I was a short distance behind the colonel when he suddenly paused, wavedhis sword, and cheered vigorously.

  The Honveds took up the cry, and the sound of their voices drowned allelse, while I stood spell-bound.

  The first of the assailants had put foot inside the fortress; the firstHungarian flag fluttered on the ramparts.

  For one moment I was the proudest, as I was soon to be the mostmiserable lad in Hungary; for the flag belonged to the 9th Honveds, andthe soldier guarding it was my brother.

  "That's one better than Count Beula!" shouted Dobozy, when another cheerarose. A little to the left the count appeared--the second to mount thewalls.

  Perhaps I lost a second--not more--enjoying my triumph; then I shot pastthe colonel, and reached my brother's side.

  He had already received several hurts, but was still gallantly holdinghis ground against long odds, when I joined him.

  "Bravo, old fellow!" I cried, parrying a fierce thrust from an Austrianofficer.

  "It's all right now, George! I beat him!" he shouted.

  At the same moment a savage-looking Croat sprang at him; but there wasthe rapid gleam of a bayonet, a sharp cry, and the fellow fell dead.

  A swift glance showed me Mecsey Sandor, who throughout the fight had, asusual, followed my steps like a dog.

  Every moment now strengthened us, while it weakened the enemy, who,seeing this, made a desperate effort to hurl us back before the rest ofour forces arrived.

  A tall, fine-looking veteran, with huge snowy moustaches, led thecharge, cutting his way almost to the walls.

  The others were beaten off; but they came at us again and again, tillscarcely a single officer remained alive to lead them.

  It was cruel work, and I rejoiced with my whole heart when at length thebrave fellows, overwhelmed by numbers, sullenly gave way.

  Stephen, forgetful of his wounds, leaped forward with the flag, and weall followed, panting like hounds with the quarry in sight.

  Count Beula, who had fought his way well to the front without receivinga scratch, ran with the main body; but in front of every one was mybrother, with Sandor and myself next, and the wounded Rakoczy a foot orso behind.

  The flag danced and waved in the reddening dawn; then suddenly it fell,rising again the next instant as proudly as before, but now, alas!stained with newly-shed blood.

  The Croats, as if ashamed of retreating--though they had little causefor shame--once more drew together, and those who had loaded riflesfired into the midst of us.

  A few men fell, but they were mere drops in the ocean. The crowd closedup solid and compact as before, and it was seen that the enemy had madetheir final effort.

  A wild cheer greeted the hoisting of a white flag on the summit of thecitadel; a wilder one still was raised when Stephen planted the gloriousred, white, and green colours beside it.

  My loved brother stood there a few moments, his face white, save wherethe red blood trickled, his eyes bright and burning, his bearing proudand defiant.

  But, alas! I saw that he held the staff with effort, and, climbing up,was just in time to catch his swaying body as it fell.

  "Dear old George!" he murmured, "I meant to do it, and succeeded."

  Then his eyes closed, his head sank, and I laid him gently on the groundin the shadow of the flag he had borne to victory.

  The noise of the conflict ceased. The Croats, yielding their arms, weregranted quarter, and marched off as prisoners. Buda was ours!

  I heard later how fearful the struggle had been. Of the twenty-fiveguns near the breach but one remained of service, and near the spotwhere we forced an entrance lay a group of no less than thirty-sixAustrian officers.

  The foremost was Hentzi himself, who, in the very front of the fight,had gained imperishable renown, both for himself and the flag he had sostubbornly defended.

  Many hard words had been said of him when, lying out on the hillside, wehad watched our beautiful Pesth half ruined by his artillery; but he hadfought and died like a brave soldier and loyal subject of his emperor.

  These things were far enough from my mind on the morning of thestorming; in fact, I forgot all else in tending my wounded brother.

  Several men came and looked at him sorrowfully. Rakoczy was one, I know;and I believe, but am not sure, that one was Count Beula.

  Then a little group approached, the leader being a surgeon, who stoopingdown shook his head in grief.

  The others brought water and bandages, and he washed away the blood,leaving the face wan and colourless. Then he loosened my brother'sjacket, uttering a hasty exclamation at sight of something beneath.

  I sat stupid with grief beside the wounded lad, nothing rousing me tillI beheld the closely-cropped hair and rugged features of GeneralGoergei.

  "My poor boy!" said he, in a tone soft and caressing as a woman's."Stephen, don't you know me? I am Arthur Goergei. Look at me, my dearyoung friend," and he gently chafed my brother's hand.

  At the general's words Stephen opened his eyes, and looked at Goergeiwith a feeble smile.

  "It's--all--right--general," he murmured very softly, and his eyesclosed again.

  Goergei stooped and kissed the boyish face tenderly.

  "As gallant a youth as ever fought for Hungary, and worthy of hishonourable name!" said he with deep feeling.

  Then, turning to me, he spoke some kindly words, and, having questionedthe surgeon privately, went his way.

  The master of legions has little time for private griefs; and indeedthis visit to my brother, taking place as it did before anything elsewas done, furnished matter for much talk in the army.

  When the general had gone, the surgeon came to me. He had a pleasantface, and the horrors of war had failed to blunt the natural kindness ofhis heart.

  "Captain Botskay," he began, "this is a very sad event; but you must bebrave, and nerve yourself to bear the blow. Your brother is seriouslyhurt--so seriously indeed that I dare not venture to move him."

  "Do you mean he is dying?" I asked hoarsely.

  "One ought never to despair," he answered; "and yet I cannot hold outfalse hopes to you. Only a miracle, my poor boy, can save yourbrother's life. I have done what I can for him. He is not in pain, buthis wounds are fatal. It may not be for an hour or two, but certainlyhe cannot live through the day."

  "Thank you," I said simply, turning again to my task of watching.

  At the end of an hour some one placed an open flask in my hand, saying,"Drink, my sweet master; it will keep up your strength."

  It was Mecsey Sandor who had brought me food and drink.

  I shook my head.

  "I cannot take it," I said.

  The faithful fellow insisted.

  "You are weak, my sweet master," he urged. "In a little time you willbecome faint for want of food, you will grow delirious, and perhaps justthen the captain will ask for you."

  I stretched out my hand for the food eagerly, alarmed by Sandor'ssuggestion, as the worthy fellow intended I should be.

/>   It must have done me good, though I ate and drank mechanically, hardlyknowing, indeed, what I did.

  The morning passed very slowly. Twice the kind-hearted surgeonreturned; but, as he had said, nothing could be done--we had only towait for the end.

  Towards the middle of the afternoon I discovered Rakoczy standing nearme.

  He had been badly wounded, and his proper place was in the hospital;but, like a stanch friend, he had come directly his hurts were dressedto share my grief.

  "Is there no hope?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "The surgeon says he will die before the day is out."

  "Poor old Stephen!"

  That was all--not a long rigmarole of words, but just a few that camefrom his heart.

  Then we sat and watched the dying lad in silence. Even now the pain Ifelt was more like that caused by a horrid nightmare than by a properunderstanding of the truth.

  Could this swathed and bandaged figure really be my bonny brother--hewho so short a time back was full of life, and hope, and energy?

  So motionless he lay, so still, that I frequently pressed my lips to histo find if he still breathed.

  Had it been possible, I would willingly have changed places with him;for Stephen had ever been the object of my fondest love.

  "George!"

  The sound almost brought the tears to my eyes, it was so feeble, andrecalled so vividly the memory of our childhood.

  I gazed lovingly into the dear face, already taking the hue of death.

  "I am dying, George, but don't grieve for me. With a good conscience,death is not hard, and I have tried to do my duty. Our father issmiling on me, and I am content. Is that Rakoczy? Dear old friend!True as steel! Is it evening? My sight is dim. Closer, brother; letme feel you. Ah!"

  I thought he had drawn his last breath, but presently he rallied.

  "Rakoczy," he said very feebly, "good-bye! Tell the general. Rememberme sometimes. What's that? John, you are weeping! 'John the Joyous'in tears--and for me? Good-bye, brother; God bless you."

  I placed my arm tenderly round his neck, and kissed him. I could notmake answer in any other way; the words choked in my throat.

  Just at the last he whispered,--

  "George, stand by Goergei. He is the true patriot."

  As we bent over him, he smiled at us with infinite tenderness; then hiseyes closed, and his breathing became hard; he tried to speak, but onlyone word escaped his lips, and that so faint we could not tell if itwere my name or the general's.

  Rakoczy touched my arm.

  "God has taken your brother to Himself!" he exclaimed solemnly.

  I heard him in a dazed way, and with true thoughtfulness he retired,leaving me alone to battle with my grief.

  I will not dwell upon the despair that wellnigh overwhelmed me. Thereare secrets of the heart that one does not betray even to the dearest offriends; but all who have lost some loved one will readily enter into mysufferings.

  When Rakoczy returned, I wiped away my tears and stood up, ready, thoughmy heart was nearly breaking, to act in a manner worthy of him who hadgone from me.

  The general, who, since the opening of the campaign, had grown very fondof my brother, gave orders that he should have a grand military funeral,and assisted at the ceremony himself.

  We wrapped the dead lad in the flag he had carried so bravely to thefront, and buried him on the very spot where he fell.

  They told me afterwards that Count Beula was there to show respect tohis late opponent; but I did not see him, and had no wish to do so.

  I cannot pretend that Stephen was blameless in the matter, but, rightlyor wrongly, I looked on the count as being partly responsible for mybrother's death, and hated him.

  The last volley was fired, the band struck up a spirited air, the troopsmarched off the ground, and after a while I was left alone to indulge mygrief at the side of the newly-made grave.