The Red, White, and Green Part 17

We stood, I repeat, motionless as statues, gazing at him, when suddenly there issued from his throat, echoing and re-echoing through the hall, the first notes of the National Hymn.

We held our breath; tears were in the eyes of some; half-choking sobs came from the throats of others; bosoms heaved and cheeks burned like fire; men, unable to restrain their emotions, clinched their hands till the finger nails dug into the palms.

Loud and clear the martial notes rang out. They spoke to our hearts; they called us to battle, to death if need be, in defence of our fatherland.

We hung upon them breathlessly. Our hands unconsciously gripped the hilts of our swords. The hot blood tore through our veins. We heard nothing, were conscious of nothing, but the glorious Magyar hymn whose notes throbbed in every fibre of our bodies.

The first verse was finished, and as Rakoczy began the second every voice joined in. The restrained excitement had burst its bonds like the Danube in flood. It could no longer be held back; it was bound to find a vent, and it found it in song.

I know little of music, but grander music was never heard than that in the banqueting-hall of Count Szondi when the year 1849 was born.

As the last notes died away, the cheering was frantically renewed.

Women sobbed openly, and there were few men iron-nerved enough to hide their emotion.

Then, with a ringing "Elijen Szondi!" in honour of our host, we broke up and pa.s.sed singly or in groups into the street.

The night was dark and dreary, snow lay thick on the ground, a storm of frozen sleet hurled itself into our faces, and the bitter cold made us s.h.i.+ver beneath our fur-lined mantles.

"A wonderful contrast this," I exclaimed, setting off with "The Joyous"

and several other officers for the barracks.

"As great as that between Hungary united and Hungary divided against itself," replied one of them.

"Or as that between Batthiany and Kossuth," suggested Rakoczy, after which we lapsed into silence.

CHAPTER VII.

_A FIGHT IN THE MOUNTAINS._

"George!"

I had not been in bed an hour, and it was quite dark, when Rakoczy's voice wakened me from a sound sleep.

"Turn out and dress quickly," he continued. "We are ordered to Waitzen; the men are under arms."

"All right," I replied sleepily, and tumbling out grazed my s.h.i.+ns against an iron box.

"Drawn blood already?" Rakoczy queried with a laugh. "What a desperate fellow you are!" and as he went away I heard him still chuckling to himself.

After a vain attempt to dress in the dark, I procured a light, and having made a hasty toilet hastened to the officers' messroom.

Several men were already there, scalding their throats with boiling coffee, and eating the next two or three meals before starting--a very good plan, too, as experience soon taught us.

As Rakoczy rightly said, on a campaign there is nothing like being a day in advance of your proper meals. Pa.s.sing me a cup of steaming coffee and pointing to the eatables, he exclaimed, "Fall to, Botskay. There's no ceremony this morning."

"Morning?" cried a youngster who, having burned his throat, was glad to give vent to his ill-humour. "You don't call this morning? Why, I hadn't got to sleep before they woke me up again. Why didn't they tell us before, and save us the trouble of tumbling in?"

"Don't know," replied Rakoczy innocently. "Ask some one else."

We were laughing at Rakoczy's pretended simplicity, when another man, coming in, said,--

"Jolly, this, isn't it? It's as black as pitch outside, and hailstones the size of walnuts are falling. Anybody know what it's all about?"

"Which? The hailstones or the blackness?" asked Rakoczy.

"This sudden turn-out. A pity we hadn't stayed at Szondi's a couple of hours later."

"I heard a rumour that Gorgei had sent a messenger to say he was retreating with the Austrians on his heels."

"He should imitate the horses and kick out behind."

"I expect he will show fight at Ofen."

"With a crowd of peasants? Not likely. His best plan is to fall back."

"What an oversight that the general didn't put us on his staff!" said Rakoczy. "We could have given him a lot of useful information."

"There's the bugle, gentlemen! Ach!" as some one opened the door; "what a blast!"

I wrapped my mantle round me closely, took another pull at the hot coffee, and went into the barrack-yard.

Two or three hundred men were drawn up in waiting. They were to convoy a huge store of food and ammunition to Waitzen.

Rather to my disgust, I found that Rakoczy and I were to look after the carts, and a wretched time of it we had.

For several hours we trudged along in the blackness of the night, while the hailstorm beat down upon us in fury.

The roads were execrable, and frequently we were compelled to stop while the teamsters got their animals out of the holes into which they stumbled.

This first spell of active service was hardly to my liking, and even upon reaching Waitzen things were very little better.

However, a merry heart is a golden cure for most ills, and it was not easy to be miserable where Rakoczy was.

He laughed at everything, found amus.e.m.e.nt in the storm, made light of the bitter cold, professed that half a dinner was better than a full one, and that he preferred to sleep on the floor, because there was no chance of falling out of bed.

After waiting two days at Waitzen we learned that Gorgei, by a sharp manoeuvre, had joined hands with Perczel, and that the Austrians were marching into Pesth.

Many of us had wondered at being sent with stores to Waitzen, but now we began to understand something of our leader's foresight.

Leaving the main army to retreat behind the Theiss, Gorgei, making a great show with his scanty numbers, turned north to join us, and this drew the bulk of the Austrians on his own track.

Amongst the first of the advance-guard to arrive at Waitzen was my brother Stephen; and though he had little leisure for conversation, the meeting did us both good.