a herald who brought this message to the
Hungarians:

"My lord, Ali Pasha, commands you unbelieving giaours to surrender.
Every way of escape is closed; spare yourself further useless
efforts, lay down your weapons at his feet and surrender yourselves to
his mercy."

The herald had hardly uttered the last words when two shots were heard
and he fell dead from his horse. Madame Vizaknai, instead of any reply
had fired off both pistols at him.

Ali Pasha, infuriated, gave a signal to the troops around him and
there was a shower of darts and balls from every side upon the little
Hungarian band.

Madame Vizaknai stepped up to Banfy's stirrups and resting against him
one hand and swinging her sword with the other, said:

"Fear nothing, my friend."

Her words were followed by a sound as of thunder and a whizzing of
darts. Madame Vizaknai's body came between Banfy and danger. When the
noise of the firing passed over he felt her hold on his arm grow
weaker;--an arrow had struck the lady just above the heart.

"The arrow was meant for you," said Madame Vizaknai, with feeble
voice, and sank down dead on the ground.

"Poor soul!" said Banfy, looking down at her. "She always loved me and
never showed it."

And then blood flowed instead of tears.

The Hungarians were surrounded by the Turks and could not force their
way through at any point. Already Banfy was fighting with the eighth
spahi who, like all the rest, gave way before his extraordinary
dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage.

"So then, you cannot kill this detestable dog," he roared, in his
anger, and striking the people before him with the flat of his sword,
he galloped toward Banfy.

"I stand before you, you miserable hog, son of a dog," he said,
gnashing his teeth.

"Keep your names for yourself," said Banfy; rode up to the Pasha, and
let fall on his helmet so mighty a blow that it was shivered, and
Banfy's sword too, and both men drew back stunned. Ali took a round
shield from one of his armor-bearers and a steel tschakany was handed
Banfy. The tschakany fell with frightful force on the shield, making a
hole. Ali Pasha drew his sword and this time Banfy saved his life only
by a skilful spring to one side.

"I'll play ball with your head," said Ali, scornfully.

"And I will make a broom out of your beard," replied Banfy.

"I will have your coat of arms nailed up in my stable."

"And I will have your hide stuffed with sawdust and use it