The next day Kemény's forces were beneath the city walls, where Apafi had barely armed men enough to guard the gates. Wenzinger was the man who best understood the art of war. This general, true to the principles of the military art in which he had been trained, first inspected the ground, then carefully occupied any point which could be of any importance, taking care to cover the besieging forces in every direction; in short, in accordance with a systematic method he prolonged his preparations so that when at last he was ready to begin, at that very moment came the news that the Turkish auxiliaries were approaching on the double-quick. Thereupon, still in accordance with his system, he assembled the scattered troops and made ready to meet the approaching Turks. But John Kemény was in the way. He feared that if the Turkish force proved large his forces would have to take flight, and in that case with Schassburg in the rear they would come between two fires. He preferred to wait the attack of his enemy and withdrew from the town altogether, taking up his position in Nagy-Szöllös in a spot that will for some time still to come be known as an important battlefield; from that point he watched calmly the advance of Kutschuk Pasha's horsemen into Schassburg.
Apafi, in his anxiety over a state of affairs into which he had fallen through no fault of his own, had not eaten anything for three days, when word was brought him that the auxiliaries had come. It was already late in the evening when Kutschuk Pasha, after a forced march over rough mountain paths, entered the city. Apafi rode forward to greet the Turk, whom he looked upon as his guardian angel. Great was his astonishment when, after carefully surveying the line, he learned that they were barely equal to the fifth part of the opposing force.
"What does your Grace intend with this small force?" he asked the Pasha.
"God knows, who from above orders the fates of men," answered the Turk with characteristic fatalism; and did not take the Prince into his plans any further.
That night the Turks encamped in the public square in front of the Prince's dwelling. At last Apafi could sleep again after so many restless nights. It was such a satisfaction to him to hear the snorting of the horses under his window and the clanking of the sentinels' swords, that he fell asleep with a light heart amid these quieting sounds; then too there was the thought that with these troops he could hold out for some time, when—something might happen. Long before dawn he was wakened by the rattling on a board which called the Turkish horsemen to breakfast.
"They breakfast early," thought the Prince, turned over and fell asleep again. As he dozed it seemed to him that he heard dervishes singing; their song is of a kind to make a man sleep even if he felt wide awake; but soon his Excellency was roused again by the sound of trumpets. "What are they doing in the middle of the night?" he cried out with annoyance; he got up, looked from the window, and saw that the Turkish riders had already mounted, though it was still dark; and with another sound of the trumpet the entire company rode out. The noise of the hoofs on the pavement and the words of command sounded out in the night.
"What a restless fellow this Pasha is!" thought Apafi, "he does not give his army any rest even at night, and that too after so many hardships," and with these thoughts he went to bed again, fell into still sweeter sleep, and woke late in the morning. The sun was high in the heavens when Apafi rang for John Cserei, at that time his factotum. His first question was,
"What is the Pasha doing?"
"He withdrew from the town during the night and sent back a messenger who has been waiting since dawn."
"Let him enter," said Apafi, and began to dress in haste.