Suddenly an arrow pierced the cheek of the elector, and his face was covered with blood.
"You are wounded, dear Max!" cried Eugene, affrighted.
The elector laughed, and, drawing out the arrow, replied, "Not at all; this is Bellona's first kiss."
And, like a furious lion, he dashed ahead, and avenged the kiss by many a stout blow of his sword.
The Janizaries were driven from their breastworks, but, ere they went, one of them, astonished at the prowess of Eugene, whom he took to be a lad, was determined to make short work of the insolent boy that was slaying right and left like another David.
He raised his brawny arm, and smiled contemptuously upon so puny an adversary. But when he would have dealt his blow, it was parried by a thrust of such power that he reeled and almost lost his balance. In his fury he raised his cimeter and cleft the helmet of the prince in twain.
For a moment Eugene was dizzy, though uninjured; but, quickly recovering his senses, he made a lunge at the Janizary and ran him through the body. Without waiting to see him die, the prince drew out his sabre and darted onward. The imperialists shouted and cheered him as he went, but the Turks, too, had witnessed the deed, and more than one musket was vengefully aimed at the slayer of the Paynim Goliath. One—one, alas! has reached the mark. It has pierced his foot, and he is no longer in a condition to make another step. Heaven be praised that the Turks have taken flight, and that the Christians have possessed themselves of the trench! Eugene has the comfort of knowing that he will not he a captive, and this assurance gives him strength to drag himself within speaking distance of a group of soldiers.
"Bear me away, if you please," said he; "I cannot walk."
Two of them hastened to his relief, and bore him tenderly away to the spot where a field-surgeon was attending to the wounded.
The town and citadel have fallen; nothing now remains to the Turks but the castle, from the windows of which a white flag is proclaiming their defeat and surrender. But the Christians do not see it; and the elector, followed by his victorious troops, rushes, sword in hand, to the prison wherein the Christian prisoners are confined. The dungeons were crowded with fugitive Turks, who had betaken themselves thither as the safest place to be found. They cried for mercy, and it was granted them. Their lives were spared, but they were prisoners. Achmed Pacha was among them. He came forward and bent the knee before his conqueror.