"Well, George," he exclaimed, laughing, "I hear the silovitz got into your head, and you pushed poor Mecsey Sándor into the river. There's nothing like a cold bath when the brain's heated; but 'twas rather rough on Sándor, who had drunk none of your plum brandy. However, the poor fellow bears no malice, and will be glad to see you in your sober senses again."
"Then it was Mecsey who saved my life?"
"Truth, you may say that. He hauled you out from under the ice, and pushed you on to dry land."
"What a night it was! I should think the whole regiment had a drenching."
"Yes, but they didn't go at it in your hot-headed way. After your company had found the stream, the others walked in quietly, and out at the other side. Görgei says he didn't think you were in such a hurry to retreat."
"Don't poke fun, but tell me what happened. Were there many lives lost?"
"At the water-jump? No. A few ugly bruises covered the mischief. We lost heavily in the wood though, and have had to fill up the gaps with raw material. You'll be sorry to miss the chance of drilling the recruits."
"Had quite enough of that at Pesth," I replied, laughing.
"And a very fine drill-sergeant you'd have made by sticking at it; but I'm keeping the men outside waiting. They're going to take you to another hut. It's quite as dirty as this; but you'll have more room, and be with the officers of your own regiment."
He went to the door and called two men, who carried me out tenderly to an ambulance, and then, helped by two comrades, bore me some two hundred yards over very rough and uneven ground to a hovel which might have been twin brother to the one I had just left.