Part 61 (2/2)

”What think you, comrades,” they said to one another, ”if they only brought us here to look on, wouldn't it be better to look on from yonder hill?”

And with that they shouldered their pikes, and without doing the slightest harm to the Turks, went off in a body.

The cavalry, who still had some stomach in them, on perceiving the flight of the infantry, also suddenly lost heart, and giving their horses the reins, scampered off in every direction.

Heissler thus was left alone on the battle-field, and up to the last moment strenuously endeavoured to retrieve the fortunes of the day. All in vain. Balacsan fell before his very eyes on the left wing, and shortly afterwards, General Magni staggered towards him scarce recognisable, for he had a fearful slash right across his head, which covered his face with blood, and his left arm was pierced by a dart. It was not about himself that he was anxious, however, for he grasped Heissler's bridle and dragged him away.

Heissler, full of desperation, fought against his own men, who carried him from the field by force. At last he reached the top of a hillock and, looking back, perceived one division still fighting on the battlefield. It was the picked division of Doria who, in its pursuit of the Tartars, had been cut off from the rest of the army, and seeing that it was isolated had hastily formed into a square and stood against the whole of the victorious host, fighting obstinately and refusing to surrender. This was too much for Heissler. He tore himself loose from his escort, and returned alone to the battlefield. A few stray hors.e.m.e.n followed him, and he tried to cut his way to Doria through the intervening hussars.

A tall and handsome cavalier intercepted him.

”Surrender, general, it is no shame to you. I am Emeric Tokoly.”

Heissler returned no answer but galloped straight at him, and, whirling his sword above his head, aimed a blow at the Hungarian leader.

Tokoly called to those around him to stand back. Alone he fought against so worthy an enemy till a violent blow broke in twain the sword of the German general, and he was obliged to surrender.

Meanwhile Doria's division was overborne by superior forces; he himself fell beneath his horse, which was shot under him, and was taken prisoner.

The rest fled.

Michael Teleki fled likewise, trusting in his good steed Kalman. He heard behind him the cries of his pursuers; there was one form in particular that he did not wish to have behind him, and it seemed to Teleki as if he were about to see this form.

This was the chief sirdar, Feriz Beg. Mortally wounded though he was, he did not forget his mortal anger, and though his blood flowed in streams, he still felt strength enough in his arm to shed the blood of his enemy.

Suddenly Michael directed his flight towards a field of wheat, when his horse stumbled and fell with him.

Here Feriz Beg overtook the minister, and whirling around his sword, exclaimed:

”That blow is from Denis Banfy!”

Teleki raised his sword to defend himself, but at that name his hand shook and he received a slash across the face, whereupon his sword fell from his hand; but he still held his hand before his streaming eyes and only heard these words:

”This blow is for Paul Beldi! This blow is for the children of Paul Beldi! This blow is for Transylvania!”

That last blow was the heaviest of all!

Teleki sank down on the ground a corpse.

Feriz Beg gazed upwards with a look of transport, sighed deeply, and then drooped suddenly over his horse's neck. He was dead.

Next day when they found Teleki among the slain, and brought him to Tokoly, the young Prince cried:

”Heh! bald head! bald head! if you had never lived in Transylvania so much blood would not have flowed here.”

Thus the prophecy of Magyari was fulfilled.

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