All the arrangements having been completed, and as soon as General Groplau was at liberty to think of other things, he gave orders that inquiries should be made concerning the whereabouts of the man to whom their great success was mainly due.
To take up the thread of my story again at the point where I left off, in order to describe the victory gained by our troops, it is necessary that I should revert to the disastrous effect upon Max's small force. Feeling sure that it would only be a question of time before the guns would be retaken from him, and realising that if they were left in their present position, they would in all human probability be turned upon the brigade now entering by the main gate, he and his men between them dragged them from the spot to a dark alley on the other side of the square, where it was unlikely they would be found in time to work further mischief. They had scarcely done this before they, in their turn, were compelled to beat a retreat before a regiment that was coming towards them at the double. Nothing was left, therefore, but for them to ascend the steps leading to the old church to which I have before referred. Seeing them, the enemy poured a volley into the portico of the sacred building, and then prepared to drive them out with the bayonet. Here, however, the small band that was left had somewhat of an advantage. Being in the dark themselves, and having what light there was in front of them, they could see their foes, who could not see them. Wearied, however, as they were, it was impossible that they could hold out for long. The pile of the dead that lay at the foot of the steps when dawn broke was a proof, if any were wanted, of the gallantry with which they fought. It was not long before a force was despatched to their assistance, and the enemy retired, having lost thirty men in that short encounter.
"Who are you, and how do you come to be here?" inquired the officer of the relieving force, as he ascended the steps. Max informed him, but had scarcely sufficient strength left to articulate the words. When he had finished he fell back against the wall, knowing that he was wounded, and believing it to be to the death. The officer—it was Fritz von Mulhaus—caught him in his arms before he could touch the ground, while Bertram, who was unwounded, hastened to his side. Between them they laid him gently down.
"Let me lie so," said Max; "I think it is all over with me now. Can you tell me if the city is ours?"
"There is not the least doubt about it, I should say," Mulhaus replied. "And if it is, we owe it to you."
"And to the brave fellows who accompanied me," answered Max, faintly. "I could have done nothing without them. And now you must not stay with me. I shall be quite comfortable here."
But Mulhaus would not be sent away. Whatever the circumstances might be, he would not leave him until he had seen him conveyed to a house near by, and until he himself had given orders that a surgeon should be sent for.
"Have you discovered what became of the man who led the storming party?" inquired General Groplau, when his aide-de-camp returned to the house which he had made his headquarters.
"I have seen him, sir," the officer replied; "and I have questioned the surgeon who is attending him. If he is not a dead man by this time, he very soon will be."
"That is sad news, indeed," answered the general. "He was a brave man, and there is no doubt that we owe all our success to him. I should have liked to have presented him to Prince Paul. He would have rewarded him as he deserves. Well, well, it's the fortune of war."