The Pasha immediately left off pursuing the panic-stricken musketeers and fell with all his might upon Kemeny, who, attacked simultaneously in front and in flank, altogether lost his head; and as there was neither time nor space for an orderly retreat, wildly cut his way through the first opening which presented itself, not perceiving in his confusion that he was riding down his own retreating infantry, for the cavalry, galloping frantically into the newly-formed ranks, trod their own people under-foot, frustrated the last hope of forming a reserve, and threw the whole army into hopeless disorder. The infantry threw down their arms and fled in all directions before their own and the enemy's cavalry, which followed, helter-skelter, on each other's heels, trampling to death all who came in their way. Neither the skill of the general nor the self-sacrifice of a handful of heroes was able to restore the battle. The wild flight of one part of the army had demoralized the other. The battle was irretrievably lost. Amidst the general rout the Prince also found himself a fugitive. As he had stood in the fore-front of the battle during the fight, he naturally found himself now among the hindmost in the flight, and could scarcely escape from his pursuers for the press in front. The Turks were everywhere on the heels of the fugitives, and mercilessly cut down all whom they could reach. A Turkish youth was following the Prince like his shadow, and as the boy's steed had very much less to carry, speedily came up with him. The falcon feather in his turban enables us to recognize Feriz Beg, Kucsuk Pasha's son. The face of the youthful hero glowed with excitement, but the face of the Prince was dark with rage and shame. He frequently looked behind him and gnashed his teeth. "To fly perforce before a child! Shame, oh, shame!" Again and again he tried to stop, but his frenzied steed tore him along with it. Meanwhile the youngster had come near enough to reach him with his scimitar. At first the Prince disdained to defend himself against his puny foe; but the latter, becoming more and more audacious in his attacks, he at last drew his sword and parried his blows. "Avaunt, you little bastard!" cried Kemeny, foaming with rage, "for if I do turn round, I'll deal you a blow that will knock all your baby teeth down your throat."