Every moment now strengthened us, while it weakened the enemy, who, seeing this, made a desperate effort to hurl us back before the rest of our forces arrived.
A tall, fine-looking veteran, with huge snowy moustaches, led the charge, cutting his way almost to the walls.
The others were beaten off; but they came at us again and again, till scarcely a single officer remained alive to lead them.
It was cruel work, and I rejoiced with my whole heart when at length the brave fellows, overwhelmed by numbers, sullenly gave way.
Stephen, forgetful of his wounds, leaped forward with the flag, and we all followed, panting like hounds with the quarry in sight.
Count Beula, who had fought his way well to the front without receiving a scratch, ran with the main body; but in front of every one was my brother, with Sándor and myself next, and the wounded Rakoczy a foot or so behind.
The flag danced and waved in the reddening dawn; then suddenly it fell, rising again the next instant as proudly as before, but now, alas! stained with newly-shed blood.
The Croats, as if ashamed of retreating--though they had little cause for shame--once more drew together, and those who had loaded rifles fired into the midst of us.
A few men fell, but they were mere drops in the ocean. The crowd closed up solid and compact as before, and it was seen that the enemy had made their final effort.
A wild cheer greeted the hoisting of a white flag on the summit of the citadel; a wilder one still was raised when Stephen planted the glorious red, white, and green colours beside it.