The longed-for morning at length dawned, the vessels approached the shore, and the landing of the troops began, while an officer was at once dispatched to the camp to announce the arrival of the reinforcements to the mighty general Alba. The soldiers were hastily ranged on the beach, they put themselves and their weapons in order, and were soon standing in battle array, ready for their great leader. Clouds of dust rose in the gray twilight, the returning officer announced the approach of the general, and as Alba signifies “morning” in the Castilian tongue, the Spaniards raised a shout of rejoicing at the coincidence, as at some favorable omen, for as the knightly train approached the first beams of the rising sun became visible.
The grave and haggard form of the general was seen mounted on a tall Andalusian charger of the deepest black. Having galloped once up and down the lines, he stopped his powerful horse in the middle, and looking along the ranks with an air of grave satisfaction, he said, “You pass muster well. That is well. I like it to be so. It is plain to see that you are tried soldiers, in spite of your youth. We will first hold a review, and then I will lead you to something more agreeable.”
So saying, he dismounted, and walking toward the right wing he began to inspect one troop after another in the closest manner, with the captain of each company at his side, that he might receive from him accurate account upon the minutest particulars. Sometimes a cannon-ball from the fortress would whizz over the heads of the men; then Alba would stand still and cast a keen glance over the soldiers before him. But when he saw that not an eyelash moved, a smile of satisfaction passed over his severe pale face.
When he had inspected both divisions he again mounted his horse and once more galloped into the middle. Then, stroking his long beard, he said, “You are in good order, soldiers, and therefore you shall take your part in this glorious day, which is just dawning for our whole Christian armada. We will attack Barbarossa, soldiers. Do you not already hear the drums and fifes in the camp? Do you see him advancing yonder to meet the emperor? That side of his position is assigned to you!”
“Vivat Carolus Quintus!” resounded through the ranks. Alba beckoned the captains to him, and assigned to each his duty. He usually mingled German and Spanish troops together, in order to stimulate the courage of the combatants still higher by emulation. So it happened even now that Heimbert and Fadrique were commanded to storm the very same height, which, now gleaming with the morning light, they at once recognized as that which had shone out so fiercely and full of promise the night before.
CHAPTER VI.
Thrice had Fadrique and Heimbert almost forced their way to a rampart in the fortifications, and thrice had they been repulsed with their men into the valley below by the fierce opposition of the Turks. The Mussulmans shouted after the retreating foe, clashed their weapons with the triumph of victory, and with a scornful laugh asked whether they would not come up again to give heart and brain to the scimitar and their limbs to the falling beams of wood. The two captains, gnashing their teeth with fury, arranged their ranks anew; for after three vain assaults they had to move closer together to fill the places of the slain and the mortally wounded. Meanwhile a murmur ran through the Christian army that a witch was fighting among their foes and helping them to conquer.
Duke Alba rode to the point of attack, and looked scrutinizingly at the breach they had made. “Not yet broken through the enemy here!” said he, shaking his head, “I am surprised. From two such youths, and such troops, I should have expected it.” “Do you hear that? Do you hear that?” exclaimed the two captains, as they paced along their lines repeating the general’s words. The soldiers shouted loudly, and demanded to be once more led against the enemy; even those who were mortally wounded shouted, with a last effort, “Forward, comrades!” The great Alba at once sprang like an arrow from his horse, wrested a partisan from the stiff hand of one of the slain, and standing in front of the two companies he cried, “I will take part in your glory. In the name of God and of the blessed Virgin, forward, my children!”
And joyfully they rushed up the hill, every heart beating with confidence, while the war-cry was raised triumphantly; some even began already to shout “Victory! victory!” and the Mussulmans paused and wavered. Suddenly, like the vision of an avenging angel, a maiden, dressed in purple garments embroidered with gold appeared in the Turkish ranks, and those who were terrified before again shouted “Allah!” calling at the same time, “Zelinda, Zelinda!” The maiden, however, drew a small box from under her arm, and opening it she breathed into it and hurled it down among the Christian troops. And forth from the fatal chest there burst a whole fire of rockets, grenades, and other fearful messengers of death. The startled soldiers paused in their assault. “Forward!” cried Alba. “Forward!” cried the two captains; but a flaming arrow just then fastened on the duke’s plumed hat and hissed and crackled round his head, so that the general fell fainting down the height. Then the German and Spanish infantry fled uncontrollably from the fearful ascent. Again the storm had been repulsed. The Mussulmans shouted, and like a fatal star Zelinda’s beauty shone in the midst of the flying troops.