"We shall turn westward again soon," I exclaimed; but he shook his head with the air of a man who had no wish to disguise the truth from himself.
The very morning after this conversation a rumour crept through the camp, though no one seemed able to trace its origin, that Field-Marshal Paskewitch, driving Moritz Perczel's troops before him like a flock of sheep, had entered Debreczin in triumph. In the men's presence the truth of the story was contemptuously scouted, but before night the officers of the staff were made aware that for once rumour had not lied.
The great Russian army, under its famous chief, had captured Kossuth's stronghold--the headquarters of Hungarian republicanism.
This was a serious blow, and I did not wonder that our leaders looked grave.
With Paskewitch at Debreczin, and Haynau forcing us back upon Pesth, we were awkwardly placed, the more especially as we could only look to ourselves for help.
But this peril was absolutely trivial compared with the astounding information that Nicholas Szondi brought me one morning. I had been out all night seeking news of the enemy's movements, and was breakfasting alone, when my new crony joined me.
"Glad to see you busy," he said chaffingly.
I finished the steaming coffee made by the worthy Sándor, and nodded.
"General better this morning?" I asked.
"Much. Able to walk about and give directions. Can't ride yet, though; can't stand the jolting. Going to have another smack at the Austrians in a day or two--at least that's what he intended; but I suppose it won't come off now."