CHAPTER FOUR.
When another month had passed, Peter no longer felt like a boy. He had looked upon danger and battle. He had seen war in its cruelest form. He had prayed fervently for peace, and yet he knew why these men would fight until the last one fell. For peace with the Turk as ruler would be worse than war. Things had been going badly for the Roumanian forces. The Turks were pouring an overwhelming number across the borders. When Stephen, at his wits’ end, divided his forces to guard several points, the different detachments were defeated.
One day he joined battle with such men as remained to him, against a body of Turks that outnumbered him two to one.
Peter had only a confused idea of what happened that day. He himself was not allowed to ride where there was fighting. He was employed on errands to different parts of the field, and when these were done, was bidden stay near the prince’s tent.
The Roumanians were discouraged with the repeated rumors of defeat that had come to them in the past week. The tide of battle turned against them, and at length they fled from the field. Peter waited in agony as the rout swept by him. He would not go without his master. At length the prince emerged at the rear, guiding with
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