Stephen did not greatly appreciate the honour, but he consented to go, and we passed several very pleasant evenings with the Austrian ladies.
Of Count Beula and his committee we saw nothing more--they were busy making speeches; but Rakoczy, in case of accidents, obtained from Messenhauser, the Viennese commander-in-chief, a document which gave us, as non-combatants, the right to assist the wounded.
A fortnight now passed without incident, except for the arrival of Joseph Bern, the famous Polish general, who instantly set about the work of defence.
"A marvellous man!" said Rakoczy one evening. "Over fifty years old, yet hot-headed as a boy. You should see him in a battle with the shells bursting and the bullets coming down like hail. He's a regular salamander, and the hotter the fire the better Bern is pleased."
"He certainly knows how to make the men work."
"Isn't there some gipsy prophecy concerning him?" asked Stephen.
"Yes, and Bern believes in the truth of it. An old woman told his fortune many years ago, and prophesied he would never come to any harm till 1850. His body is covered with scars, but Bern doesn't count these. The Poles are fanatical about him, and believe he can't be killed.
"If the Austrians catch him," said Stephen, "they will put it to the test by means of a hempen rope."
"Rather a risky experiment, for Bern," replied our companion with a humorous twinkle.
That same night Prince Windischgratz arrived with a fresh army, twenty thousand strong; and, having joined his colleagues, he summoned the city to surrender.