st whom the King was now on his march. Then the King
comes to his tent with his generals, prepares his order of battle; and
dismisses them to their posts, keeping by his side an aged and faithful
knight, his master of the horse, to whom he expresses his repentance
for his past crimes, his esteem for his good and injured Queen, and his
determination to meet the day's battle like a man.

"What is this field called?"

"Mohacz, my liege!" says the old warrior, adding the remark that "Ere
set of sun, Mohacz will see a battle bravely won."

Trumpets and alarms now sound; they are the cymbals and barbaric music
of the Janissaries: we are in the Turkish camp, and yonder, surrounded
by turbaned chiefs, walks the Sultan Solyman's friend, the conqueror of
Rhodes, the redoubted Grand Vizier.

Who is that warrior in an Eastern habit, but with a glove in his cap?
'Tis Carpezan. Even Solyman knew his courage and ferocity as a soldier.
He knows; the ordnance of the Hungarian host; in what arms King Louis
is weakest: how his cavalry, of which the shock is tremendous, should
be received, and inveigled into yonder morass, where certain death may
await them--he prays for a command in the front, and as near as possible
to the place where the traitor King Louis will engage. "'Tis well," says
the grim Vizier, "our invincible Emperor surveys the battle from yonder
tower. At the end of the day, he will know how to reward your valour."
The signal-guns fire--the trumpets blow--the Turkish captains retire,
vowing death to the infidel, and eternal fidelity to the Sultan.

And now the battle begins in earnest, and with those various incidents
which the lover of the theatre knoweth. Christian knights and Turkish
warriors clash and skirmish over the stage. Continued alarms are
sounded. Troops on both sides advance and retreat. Carpezan, with his
glove in his cap, and his dreadful hammer smashing all before him, rages
about the field, calling for King Louis. The renegade is about to slay
a warrior who faces him, but recognising young Ulric, his ex-captain, he
drops the uplifted hammer, and bids him fly, and think of Carpezan. He
is softened at seeing his young friend, and thinking of former times
when they fought and conquered together in the cause of Protestantism.
Ulric bids him to return, but of course that is now out of the question.
They fight. Ulric will have it, and down he goes under the hammer. The
renegade melts in sight of his wounded co