Galenski, Colonel of Russian cavalry, sat on his horse on a slight eminence beside the road which descended from Dukla Pass into the valley beyond, watching through a pair of field glasses the ramparts of an ancient castle perched upon a crag.
Beside him his regiment streamed down the hill at a hand gallop, its gray coats flapping, as it spread out fanwise in the meadow below, its lances lightly poised in pursuit of the fleeing Austrians. As a company captain passed he called out a name, and the officer, with a word to his lieutenant, galloped up and saluted.
"Is not that Schloss Szolnok, Captain Kotchukoff?"
"Yes, sir. You remember—the affair of Baron Neudeck."
"Of course. I have been watching it, as we came down the road. Fighting has been going on there for an hour or more."
"Fighting?"
"Yes. I don't understand. The Austrians were attacking it. I am certain for I clearly made out the kepi of the infantry."
"That is strange."
"Is it possible that some of our advance posts could have occupied it?"