"Botskay," said he quickly, "we must have half a dozen guns planted on those sandhills. See them? Off you go, then, to Benitzky, and don't lose a second."
I put my horse to the gallop, and having found the chief of artillery, delivered my message, and rode back.
At this moment the day was ours. Schlick's corps was routed, our fellows were hot in pursuit, and a few enthusiasts were already dreaming of Vienna.
But we reckoned without the Russians.
Before our artillery could get there, the sandhills were occupied by Russian guns, whose murderous fire sent our cavalry back.
At the same time our cuirassiers dashed forward on the right, and then we saw a body of infantry advancing at the double.
In half an hour the situation had become critical. Nothing could save us but the most desperate effort.
Our general, as usual, rose to the occasion. Placing himself in front of the hussars, he delivered a short but stirring address, and led them against the Russian infantry.
Twice we dashed at them in gallant style, being thrown back each time; the third time, we resolved, should pay for all.
Nicholas Szondi and I rode on either side of the general, who once more gave the word to charge.