“Is that the dawn, Piper?” he asked, in a quiet, natural voice.
“No, sire, the moon.”
“Send one to bid Neumann come and dress my wound. I would sooner be abroad than abed to-night.”
“I, too, could not rest, sire.”
“There will be time enough to rest when we are in Poltava,” replied the King; there was a note of wildness in his voice foreign to his character; he seemed aware of this himself for he added fiercely: “Curse this fever—I have Peter’s devils on me to-night. Fetch Neumann.”
Count Piper bowed and turned away.
Thus, without a word or handshake parted King and minister on the eve of the Poltava fight.
CHAPTER III
FOR the second time the horses drawing the King’s litter were killed—only three were left of the four-and-twenty guards who accompanied him. Other soldiers hurried up, and began fastening fresh horses to the litter.
“Make haste,” commanded Karl, “make haste.” It was the thick of the battle; the beginning of the second attack which had begun at nine in the morning.