CHAPTER XXIII.

A DUEL BETWEEN BROTHERS.

A whole nation's gaze was turned toward the fortress of Buda. There it stood, weak when it came to self-defence, yet capable of working fearful destruction in case of attack. From the summits of the surrounding mountains one could overlook Buda and examine its interior as if it had been an open book. Old brick walls formed its sole fortifications, with no outworks of any sort.

Wherein, then, lay its mysterious strength? In the fact that Pest lay outstretched at its feet, and for every cannon-ball directed against the fortress it could retaliate with a deadly shower of fire and iron. The enemy on the hill said to his foe across the river: "If you draw your sword against me I will slay your wife and daughters and the infant in its cradle." Nevertheless the sword was drawn.

For the fiery and impetuous, nothing tries the patience more than the forced inactivity of a siege,--the sitting down before a blank wall from behind which the enemy sticks out his tongue and laughs in derision. Before three days had passed, nine-tenths of the besieging army had become fretful with impatience. The men were eager to storm the enemy's stronghold on all sides. Even in the council of war the spirit of impatience was rife and the commanding general was urged to order an assault. Violent scenes were enacted, in which the best friends fell to quarrelling. All were divided between two parties, the hot-headed and the cool-headed. Thus it came about that the two Baradlay brothers, A-dAśn and Richard, found themselves opposed to each other in the council, and on the fourth day of the siege they went so far as to exchange hot and angry words.

"We must bring the siege to an end," declared the younger brother, vehemently.

"And I say," rejoined the elder, "that we have but just begun it and must wait for our heavier guns before we can think of making an assault. Otherwise we shall provoke a deadly fire on Pest, and all to no purpose."

"What is Pest to us in this crisis?" cried Richard. "Ten years ago the great flood destroyed the city, and we rebuilt it. Let the enemy burn it down; in ten years it will have risen from its ashes, more beautiful than ever."

"Yet even at that fearful sacrifice are we at all sure that we can take the fortress? Can we scale its heights in the face of the enemy's fire?"

"Yes. A subterranean channel, constructed by the Turks, runs from Buda down to the river. Through this a company of infantry could make its way into the fort while a hot attack was maintained from without."

"I have studied the situation, too," returned A-dAśn, "and I have learned positively that the upper end of the subterranean passage is in ruins; but even if it were not, and a company of our men succeeded in effecting an entrance, would they not, in all probability, be cut down before they could open the gates to us or we could join them?"

"Do you, then, place no confidence whatever in the courage and determination of our soldiers?" asked the other.

"On the contrary," was the reply; "but even courage and determination cannot prevail against such overwhelming odds."

Richard's eyes flashed fire. He was in that tense and irritated condition in which a man feels that he must utter a sharp retort or burst with passion. "You say that," he exclaimed hotly, "because, like all civilians, you are a coward at heart."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he regretted them. A-dAśn turned pale. "No man ever before applied that term to me," said he, in a low but firm tone, regarding his brother steadily, "nor shall you do so with impunity."

This scene was suddenly interrupted by a twelve-pound cannon-ball which burst through the west wall of the room and went out through the opposite side. A second shot struck the roof, and then a bomb landed in the courtyard and exploded.

"There is treason abroad!" cried the members of the council, springing to their feet. "Some one has betrayed our headquarters to the enemy, and we are being fired upon."

"We can't stay here a moment longer, that's certain," said the commanding officer, and he prepared to leave the room.

Richard looked at his brother, who alone kept his seat at the table, a pen in his hand, and gave no sign of leaving his chair, despite the crashing of the enemy's shots. The younger brother was irritated at what seemed to him ostentatious recklessness; and he was, besides, touched with another feeling toward his elder brother.

"Come, old man," said he, "I know well enough you have nerve for anything; but don't stay here now that all the rest of us are leaving."

"I am sitting here," replied the other calmly, "because I am secretary of the council, and I am waiting to record the motion to adjourn, whenever it shall be made."

"He is right," exclaimed the others; "we must adjourn the meeting in due form."

Accordingly all resumed their places around the table, while cannon-balls continued to strike the building, and a formal vote was taken on the motion to adjourn. It was carried unanimously, and all hurried out of the room except A-dAśn, who lingered behind to complete his minutes. Richard, too, remained at the door until his brother was ready to go.

"Come, hurry up!" he urged; "every one knows you are a man of courage. Coward is the last word to apply to you."

A-dAśn, however, folded his papers deliberately. "On that point I shall have something to say to you later," said he calmly, freeing his arm from his brother's touch as he walked out.

"Surely you are not going to challenge me to a duel?" exclaimed Richard.

"You will soon see," replied the other, turning proudly away.

* * * * *

The order for a general assault had been given. At midnight of the 21st of May, a sham attack was to be made against the bastions, after which the troops were to retire and remain quiet until three o'clock in the morning. Then, while the enemy were counting confidently on being left undisturbed for another day, a vigorous assault was to be undertaken in earnest, with scaling-ladders and bayonets.

The hardest part would fall to those who should charge over the crumbling masonry where breaches had been effected, or mount the tall scaling-ladders under a deadly fire from above. For these most dangerous tasks the bravest and most experienced battalions were selected, while volunteers were called for from the whole army to join them. The honour of being among the first to scale the hostile ramparts was eagerly sought by hundreds of brave men.

On the evening preceding the assault, A-dAśn Baradlay sought his brother. Since their recent encounter in the council-chamber they had not met, and their relations were felt to be somewhat strained. Richard was delighted to see his brother; he acknowledged in his heart that the other showed great generosity in thus making the first advances, and he gave him a very cordial reception. A-dAśn's bearing, however, was as calm and undemonstrative as usual. He was dressed in the uniform of the national guard.

"So to-morrow is the decisive day," he remarked as he entered.

"Yes," answered the other; "a sham attack to-night at twelve, and a general assault just before dawn."

"Is your watch right?" asked A-dAśn.

"Oh, I don't pay much attention to the time," was the answer, in a careless tone; "when the artillery gives the signal I know the dance is about to begin."

"You are not well-informed," rejoined A-dAśn. "Half an hour before the first cannon-shot, the volunteers from the third army-corps who are to attack the great bastion must be ready to start, and also those from the second army-corps who are to scale the wall of the castle garden. So it will be well for you to set your watch by mine, which agrees with the general's."

"Very well, I'll do it." Richard still maintained a certain condescending superiority in his manner toward his brother, as is customary in the bearing of seasoned soldiers toward civilians, however greatly they may esteem the latter.

"And now please listen to what I have to say," continued A-dAśn, with his usual calm. "You have allowed yourself to use certain words in addressing me which I cannot repeat even between ourselves."

"What do you mean?" interposed the other. "You surely don't think of calling me out?"

"That is my intention," replied the elder brother composedly. "I challenge you to the most desperate duel ever fought between two men, to the only duel that brothers can engage in who love each other, and yet cannot be reconciled by peaceful means. You have joined the volunteers who are to storm the castle garden at the point of the bayonet; I am enrolled among those whose task it will be to carry the main bastion by scaling-ladders. When the first cannon-shot is fired our duel will begin, and he who first mounts the enemy's fortifications will have obtained satisfaction from the other."

Richard seized his brother's hand with a look of alarm. "Brother," he exclaimed, "you are joking; you are trying to frighten me. That you, who have more sense in your little finger than a great bully like me in his whole head, should rush to almost certain destruction, where some blockhead of an Austrian may easily brain you with the butt end of his rifle; that you should go scrambling up the ladders with the militia, where the first to mount are well-nigh sure to meet their death, and where no one can rush in to save you; that you, the pride of our family, the apple of our eye, our mother's support, our country's hope, should throw yourself against the enemy's bayonets,--oh, that is a cruel punishment you have planned for me! No one demands such a proof of your courage. War is not your profession; that is for us rough men who are good for nothing else. You are the soul of our army; don't try to be its hand or its foot at the same time. We honour superior intelligence, however much we may boast of our physical prowess. Don't think of taking such a revenge on those who love you, just because of a hasty word, long since repented of and retracted. Do what you will with me if you still feel offended; bid me ram my head into the mouth of one of the enemy's cannon and I will do it. Tell me you only meant to frighten me--that you are not in earnest."

"I am in earnest, and shall do as I have said," answered the other firmly; "you may do as you think best." With that he prepared to take his leave.

Richard tried to stop him. "A-dAśn, brother," he cried, "I pray you forgive me! Think of our mother, think of your wife and children!"

A-dAśn regarded him, unmoved. "I am thinking of my mother here," said he, stamping with his foot on the ground, "and I shall defend my wife and children yonder," pointing toward the fortress.

Richard stood out of his brother's way; further opposition would have been worse than useless. But his eyes filled with tears, and he reached out both his hands toward A-dAśn. At such a moment the brothers might well have embraced each other, yet A-dAśn never offered his hand. Before a duel the adversaries are not wont to shake hands.

"When we meet up yonder," said he significantly, "don't forget to look at your watch and note the minute when you first plant your foot on the fortifications." With that he left the room.

* * * * *

Three o'clock was at hand. The cannoneers stood at their guns, watches in hand. A deep and peaceful quiet reigned, broken only by the note of the nightingale. At the first stroke of three, fifty-nine cannon burst forth in one thundering volley which was caught up by the loud huzzas of thousands of voices on every side. The sun was still far below the horizon, but the scene was soon illumined by the destructive fire of hostile artillery. In the glare of bombs and rockets the volunteers of the thirty-fourth militia battalion could be seen, like a hill of ants, swarming up toward the breach in the enemy's wall. They were driven back, and again they advanced, fighting with their bayonets in a hand-to-hand struggle. A second time they were repulsed, and their officers were left, dead and dying, before the breach.

Two other battalions, the nineteenth and thirty-seventh, with the volunteers who had joined them, pressed forward with their scaling-ladders. A hot fire was opened upon them, but in vain; they planted their ladders against the wall and ran up the rounds. To turn them back was impossible; the only thing remaining was to shoot them down as fast as they climbed the ladders.

Leading the way on one of the ladders was A-dAśn Baradlay, his drawn sword in his hand. A detachment of the Italian regiment was defending that part of the wall, and the defence was well maintained. It was a grim task climbing the ladders in the face of a deadly fire of sharpshooters, and the air was filled with the groans of those that fell. Theirs was a twofold death, shot down as they were by the enemy, and then falling, only to be caught on the bayonets of their own comrades behind them.

A-dAśn mounted his ladder as coolly as if he had been climbing an Egyptian pyramid on a wager to show himself proof against giddiness. Looking up, he could see a soldier standing at the head of the ladder, half concealed by the breastworks and holding his rifle ready to shoot. That soldier was his opponent in this fearful duel. Reaching the middle of the ladder, he suddenly heard himself hailed from below. The voice was a familiar one.

"Aha, patron, I'm here too!"

A-dAśn recognised Mausmann's call. The daring gymnast was climbing up the under side of the ladder and making every effort to overtake his leader, eager to gain the top before him. With the agility of a monkey, he passed A-dAśn and swung himself around on the front of the ladder over the other's head, shouting down to him triumphantly:

"Don't think you are going to get ahead of me, patron. I am captain here, and you are only a private."

A-dAśn was eager to recover his lead, but the gallant youth only pressed him back with one hand, saying, as he did so:

"Let me go first, patron; I have no one in the whole world to care if I am killed."

With that he sprang upward, two rounds at a time. The soldier above brought his rifle to his shoulder and aimed downward. Mausmann saw him, and shouted tauntingly:

"Take good aim, macaroni, or you might hit me."

The next moment the Italian pulled the trigger. Mausmann's hands relaxed their hold of the ladder. "Look out!" he called down to A-dAśn.

"What's the matter?" returned the other.

"Something that never happened to me before; I am killed." Therewith he fell backward over A-dAśn's head.

A-dAśn now climbed higher, anxious to reach the top of the ladder before the Italian should have reloaded his piece. But the soldier was too quick for him, and he found himself looking into the very muzzle of his rifle. Still he mounted. He could see the rifleman's finger press the trigger; the piece missed fire, and the next instant A-dAśn sprang over the breastworks.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the sixty-first battalion had effected an entrance into the castle garden. Three step-like terraces remained to be surmounted, and the men climbed one another's shoulders or stuck their bayonets between the stones of the scarp, and so worked their way upward. The defenders of the garden had retreated to the third terrace. As the Hungarians were about to scale this also, they were suddenly brought to bay by the arrival of a fresh force of the enemy. It included some of the bravest soldiers of the army, being composed of four platoons of the William regiment.

On the second terrace of the castle garden the two hostile bands met in desperate conflict.

"Surrender!" called the militia major.

"Fire! Charge bayonets!" was the Austrian captain's response, as he gave the commands to his men.

A volley was discharged on each side. The Austrian captain and his lieutenant fell, while the Hungarian major and one of his officers were wounded. Neither party heeded its loss. Richard snatched up the rifle of a wounded soldier and dashed forward to meet the enemy. He was a master of bayonet fighting, and he resolved that, if he had to succumb at last to superior numbers, he would at least sell his life dearly.

An inner voice seemed to whisper to him that he was fighting his last battle. What if he slew ten opponents in succession? The eleventh would surely get the better of him and he must fall. At this thought, and in the thousandth part of a second, he took leave of all that was dear to him,--of the faithful girl awaiting him in Vienna, of the dear mother praying for him at home, of the slain foe to whom he had given a promise that he could not now fulfil. He saw only too well the fearful odds against him, and prepared to die.

His first adversary he sent headlong down the embankment; the second he drove back wounded into his comrades' arms; the third stopped suddenly as he was rushing to the encounter and pointed with his bayonet to the terrace above them. A dense array of flashing bayonets was seen advancing, and it was at once evident that the side which they should join would win the day. To which side, then, did they belong?

The rising sun answered the question. Shooting its beams from behind a cloud at that moment, it lighted up a banner fluttering in the advancing bayonet-hedge. The flag bore the national colours of Hungary.

"_A%ljen a haza!_" resounded from the third terrace, and the relief party plunged down the scarp like an avalanche. The Austrians, thus overwhelmed by their opponents, were forced to surrender.

Yonder blue-coated figure which had come with this succour like a rescuing angel, just at the moment when aid was most sorely needed, was A-dAśn Baradlay. The two brothers fell into each other's arms.

"I am very angry with you," cried Richard, as he folded his brother in a warm embrace.

* * * * *

It was six o'clock in the morning. From every turret and pinnacle in Buda the tricolour waved in the breeze, and all the streets of Pest rang with loud huzzas. Turning his back, however, on these scenes of rejoicing, Richard Baradlay, refreshed by a cold bath and a soldier's breakfast, made his way to a neighbouring village, to fulfil the promise so solemnly pledged to poor Otto Palvicz.