lf on his legs. He wanted to reply, but the Colonel had already
again hurled himself into the tangled throng of fighters, and a few
seconds later fell under the butt-end blows and sabres of the Russians.

Then Hermann Heideck turned his horse and galloped off.

XIV

IN THE PANIC-STRICKEN CITY

As on his ride to Colonel Baird's brigade, so also was Heideck on his
return threatened by manifold forms of death. Although he successfully
and happily avoided all compact bodies of troops on his way across the
bloody battlefield, yet single Russian horsemen came up close to him and
more than once he heard the shrill whistle of bullets as they whizzed
past his head. But in the battle-fever that had seized him he had
no thought of danger: all his thoughts were solely occupied with the
question as to how he should contrive to arrive at Lahore, in order to
fulfil the last request of the Colonel.

Bleeding from several wounds, his brave stallion put forth his utmost
efforts to carry his rider safely away from the turmoil of battle. The
wounded animal was still able to travel a considerable distance at full
gallop. But suddenly he began to slacken his pace and to stumble, and
Heideck perceived that his strength was exhausted. He dismounted in
order to examine the injuries the horse had sustained, and at once
perceived that he could not expect further exertion from the poor brute.
In addition to a bayonet-thrust on the neck, it had also a bullet-hole
on the left hind flank, and it was from this wound that the blood was
principally streaming. In stertorous panting the poor beast laid his
head on his master's shoulder, and Heideck stroked and patted his
forehead. "Poor chap--you have done your duty, and I must leave you here
behind." And now, for the first time, the anxious dread overcame him
that he, too, would not escape with his life from this battlefield,
for he perceived a horseman in Indian uniform approaching him, waving
a sword. Heideck drew his revolver from his belt in order to protect
himself against his assailant. But he immediately recognised in his
supposed enemy his faithful boy, Morar Gopal, who beamed with joy at
having by chance again found his master, whom he had believed to be
dead. He wanted at once to leave Heideck his horse, and to attempt to
make his own way on foot. But the German officer would not accept this
unselfish sacrifice on the part of his servant; but he was relieved
of the necessity of aga