"My lord, my lord," said a youthful voice, as Algernon Grey was gazing around him, "the day is lost. All the savages have fled; and the whole right is in confusion and disarray; the men scampering hither and thither, and drowning themselves in the Moldau."
"Go back, go back to the place I told you," replied Algernon; "wait there for me; but tell the men to get all the baggage as near the gate as they can,--My lord, the count," he continued, riding up to an old officer, who was advancing, "one more charge for the honour of our arms."
"With all my heart," said old Count Schlick; "where's the boy, Christian? He did that charge right gallantly."
"He is wounded and taken, my lord," answered Algernon Grey.
"Then I will head the men," said the Count; "they will follow grey hair as well as brown, I will warrant--Let us away."
Riding on to the body of cavalry which had rallied, the old Bohemian nobleman put himself at their head; the word was given to charge; and once more, though with less spirit and in diminished numbers, they swept down to meet the advancing enemy. The right of their horse encountering a body of Walloon cavalry, forced them to recoil; and there the Bohemian horsemen were soon mingled with the foe hand to hand. But on the left they found their advance opposed by a steady regiment of Bavarian pikemen, flanked as before by arquebusiers. The first line hesitated, and drew in the rein at the sight of the forest of pikes before them. A discharge of musketry took them in the flank, and in an instant all was confusion, disarray, and flight. About four hundred horse, with the old Count and Algernon Grey, were left in the midst of the imperial army, no longer united as a single mass, but broken into small parties of combatants; and it soon became evident that the strife could not be maintained any longer.
"Away, away!" cried the Count, riding past the young Englishman; "I have ordered the trumpets to sound a retreat,--but, in Heaven's name, let us save our standard."
As he spoke, he pointed to a spot where a banner was floating still, in the midst of a large party of the enemy; and gathering together as many of his own men as he could, Algernon Grey made a charge with the old Bohemian at his side, in order, if possible, to recover it. But the effort was in vain; as they poured down upon the enemy, a pistol shot struck the standard-bearer from his horse, and closing round the little troop of English and Bohemians, the Walloons soon brought many a brave heart to the ground. Algernon Grey thought of Agnes Herbert: there was nothing but death or captivity if he staid to strike another stroke; all was evidently lost; no object was to be obtained, and, turning his horse, he cleared the way with his sword, and galloped up the hill, passing under a furious fire from the musketeers, who were already in his rear.
When he reached the summit, he perceived how vain had been even the last effort. Cavalry and infantry of the Bohemian army were all flying together. The field presented a complete rout, except where, at various points, appeared an Austrian or Bavarian regiment, already in possession of the hill. The artillery, the greater part of the baggage, and all the tents, were in the hands of the enemy; and, spurring on like lightning through the perils that surrounded him, the young Englishman at length reached the tree where the page was waiting, with his own horse and a fresh one for his master. Springing to the ground, Algernon snatched his pistols from the saddle-bow, and leaped upon the back of the other charger.
"Mount and follow, mount and follow," he cried to the page, and then dashed on towards the gates of Prague.