Midst the Wild Carpathians Part 35

"Take them!" said he; "you must have wherewith to defend yourself."

Meanwhile Ali Pasha had sent forward a herald, who, drawing near to the Hungarians, delivered the following message to them--

"My master, Ali Pasha, informs you, O ye unbelieving Giaours, that every loophole of escape is closed. Wherefore then strive against him further?

Lay down your weapons and throw yourselves upon his mercy."

Scarcely had the herald finished speaking when two shots resounded, and he fell dead from his horse. Dame Vizaknai had fired both pistols at him by way of reply. Then Ali Pasha beckoned furiously to the squadrons surrounding him, and from all sides there rained darts, bullets, and arrows on the little band of Hungarians. The same moment Dame Vizaknai climbed on to Banfi's stirrups, and supporting herself on his shoulders with one hand, cried--

"Fear nought, my friends!"

A crackling report and a hissing shower of darts followed. Dame Vizaknai covered Banfi with her body, and after the fiery tempest had roared past, the Baron felt her hold upon his arm relaxing. An arrow had struck her just above the heart.

"That arrow was meant for you," said Dame Vizaknai, with a faint voice, and she sank dead to the ground.

"Poor lady!" cried Banfi, with a look of compa.s.sion. "She always loved me, and would never show it."

And then blood flowed instead of tears.

The Turkish host surrounded the Hungarians on every side, but were unable to break through their ranks. Banfi was already fighting with his eighth Spahi, who like the seven others was at last overcome by the Baron's extraordinary dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage.

"Why can't you cut down that grizzly dog?" roared he furiously, and galloped himself against Banfi, driving his flying followers out of his way with the flat part of his sword-blade. "'Tis I, Ali Pasha, who now stands before thee, vile hog!" bellowed he, gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth, "thou son of a dog, thou."

"Keep your t.i.tles for yourself," cried Banfi, and riding up to the Pasha he dealt him a tremendous blow on the helmet with his sword, so that sword and helmet were both smashed to pieces, and the champions reeled back half stunned. Ali quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed from his armour-bearers a round s.h.i.+eld, while Banfi was hastily provided with a steel csakany, and again they rushed upon each other.

The csakany fell with fearful force upon the s.h.i.+eld, and knocked a hole through it, while Ali lunged forward with his scimitar, and this time only a very dexterous twist of the head saved Banfi's life.

"I'll play ball with thy head!" cried Ali contemptuously.

"And I'll make a broom of thy beard!" retorted Banfi.

"I'll have thy coat-of-arms nailed up over my stables!"

"And thy skin, stuffed with sawdust, shall serve me as a scarecrow!"

"Thou rebellious slave!"

"Thou barber's apprentice turned general."

Every abusive epithet was accompanied by a fresh and furious blow.

"Thou dishonourable girl-s.n.a.t.c.her," cried the Pasha, with foaming mouth.

"Thou dost filch Turkish maidens for thy unclean embraces; therefore will I carry off thy wife and make her the lowest slave in my harem."

To Banfi the world seemed all at once to be turning round and round. His soul had received three wounds, which quite divested him of humanity.

"Thou accursed devil," he roared, gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth, seized his csakany by the middle with both hands, sprang closer to Ali, and whirled his weapon with lightning-like rapidity over his head, so that it flew round and round in his hands like the sail of a windmill, cras.h.i.+ng down now with its axe-head, now with its bullet-shaped nether end on his antagonist's s.h.i.+eld, and attacking and defending himself at the same time. Ali Pasha, confused at this altogether novel mode of attack, would have retired; but the two war-horses, furiously biting each other about the head and neck, were now taking part in the contest of their masters, and could not be parted.

The Spahis, seeing their leader waver, threw themselves between the combatants and drove from Banfi's side his escort of hussars. The Baron now perceiving that all his people had fled to the churchyard, directed one last swift stroke at Ali's s.h.i.+eld, which, to judge from Ali's agonized howl, penetrated it at the very spot where fitted on to the arm. Banfi had no time for a third encounter, as he was now completely surrounded.

At that moment a well-known flourish of trumpets resounded in the rear of the combatants, and a fresh and general battle-cry mingled with the din--

"G.o.d and St. Michael."

George Veer had arrived with the banderia.

"G.o.d and St. Michael!" thundered the leader of the n.o.bility, conspicuous among them all in his silver coat of mail with the bearskin thrown over his shoulders; and with his toothed battle-axe he hewed his way through the ranks of the astonished Turks.

The attack was skilfully conducted; the mounted n.o.bility pressed on from all sides, simultaneously bringing the Turkish host everywhere into confusion, so that one wing could not a.s.sist the other, and the outermost ranks were always borne down by superior numbers.

Ali Pasha had received a bad wound in the arm from Banfi's last blow, which had daunted his courage, so he stuck his spurs into his horse's sides and gave the signal for retreat.

The Turkish host was driven head and heels out of the town, and its leaders endeavoured to retreat among the Gyalyui Alps, hoping to rally it again in the narrow defiles.

Outside the town the battle, fast becoming a rout, still raged furiously. The Hungarians scattered about the burning hayricks, and were so intermingled in the darkness of the night with their opponents that they could only distinguish one another by their battle-cries.

The hara.s.sed Turkish host, which in the darkness and confusion at one time took refuge among the enemy, and at another cut down their own comrades, tried to imitate the battle-cry of the Hungarians, but this only made the mischief greater; for as they could not p.r.o.nounce the words "Angel Michael," but always cried "Anchal Michel," they exposed themselves more completely to the Hungarians.

The Turkish army was now completely beaten; more than a thousand of its dead lay in the streets and around the church, and only the mountain pa.s.ses, into which it was not prudent for the Hungarians to follow them, saved them from utter annihilation.

George Veer therefore sounded the recall, whilst Banfi, with restless rage, rushed hither and thither after the flying foe. All in vain; every way was barred by the trunks of trees which the Turks had hewn down in hot haste.

"We must let them escape!" cried Veer, thrusting his sabre into its sheath.

"Say not so! say not so!" cried Banfi excitedly, and riding up to the top of a hillock, he seemed to be observing something in the distance.

Suddenly he exclaimed with a joyful voice--"Look yonder. The fire-signals have just been lit!"

And indeed on the crests of the Gyalyui Mountains the fire-signals could be seen flas.h.i.+ng up one by one in a long line.

"Those are our people!" cried Banfi, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk is caught in the trap. Forward!" And remarshalling his squadrons, he galloped towards the barricaded forest paths, heedless of the warnings of the more circ.u.mspect Veer.

Meanwhile Ali Pasha, abandoning his tents, camels, and booty-laden wagons to the enemy, sent Dzem Haman, the Albanian commander, on before, to level the roads over the snowy mountains.

As now Dzem Haman was advancing through the darkness and superintending the labours of his Albanian pioneers, he heard voices in the steep rock above his head, and a company of armed men suddenly emerged from the mountain pa.s.ses before his eyes.

The troops on both sides challenged each other simultaneously.

"Who are ye? What are you doing?"

"We are carrying stones," answered Dzem Haman. "And you?"

"We too are carrying stones," was the answer from above.

"We are Dzem Haman's men, who are removing the stones from the path of Ali Pasha--and ye, are you not Csaky's men?"

"We are collecting stones for the head of Ali Pasha, and are Michael Angel's people," resounded from above, and at the same time a terrible rain of stones rolled down upon the heads of the Albanians, by way of confirming the statement.