"But Mecsey Sándor and the Russian--what became of them?" inquired the general.
"Oh, Mecsey saved my life;" and I told how the trusty fellow had dragged both Popkoff and myself from the river.
At the idea of Mecsey and the Russian, neither of whom understood a word the other said, being left together, they all laughed heartily, being no less amused at my method of procuring a dinner.
However, in spite of their fun, I knew they were very pleased at my safe return; and the general's "Well done, Botskay!" as I left his tent, was ample reward for what I had gone through.
Early the next morning we were again in retreat, and on the twenty-fifth of July crossed the Theiss at Poroszlo, after a sharp engagement with the Russian advanced guard, commanded by Prince Gortschakoff.
Mecsey had not yet returned, but his absence did not alarm me, as Colonel Popkoff was not in a condition to travel very fast.
During the retreat I had seen Rakoczy several times, and also Dobozy, who had recently been made major.
The former retained his joyous spirits, came up with a cheery smile after each misfortune, and professed to believe that before long we should gain a tremendous victory, and drive both Austrians and Russians out of the country.
All this was only for outside consumption, but Dobozy assured me that the colonel really had not the slightest hope of success. In fact, a general depression settled down on the army. The soldiers began to grumble and to ask why they were fighting. The old grievance broke out afresh, and men said openly it was a folly to sacrifice their lives for a cause in which they had no part.
They were not republicans, and if Görgei had had a free hand, all they wanted would have been granted long before.