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"A recommendation by the surgeon-in-chief," said Turcas, "for a new method of prompt segregation of ghastly cases among the wounded. I have put it in the form of an order. If reserves coming into action see men badly lacerated by shell fire it is bound to make them self-conscious and affect morale." "Yes," Westerling agreed.
"So we concentrate to break through there," Westerling continued, "while we engage the whole line fiercely enough to make the enemy uncertain where the crucial attack is to be made." "But, general, if there is any place that is naturally strong, that " Turcas began. "The one place where they are confident that we won't attack!" Westerling interrupted.
Marta recalled the contrast between Westerling and Lanstron as they faced each other after the wreck of the aeroplane ten years ago: the iron invincibility of the elder's sturdy, mature figure and the alert, high-strung invincibility of the slighter figure of the younger man. "The evidence you asked for in that Mallin mutiny case," said Turcas, indicating the only remaining paper.
Bouchard, hawk-eyed, stern, was standing by the street door. His mediæval spirit revolted at the thought of any kind of a mob. For such demonstrations he had a single simple prescription cold lead. "We cannot strike the overwhelming spirit which we would forge into the nation's defence," said Turcas.
"You certainly find me in a more genial frame of mind than you would have if you had met me there. And I am very delighted that things have turned out as they have," replied Turcas. As soldiers of a common type of efficiency, who understood each other, they might exchange ideas. Marta in the family carriage, surrounded by her children, looked on.
We cannot communicate with many of our division commanders," put in Bellini, the chief of intelligence. "Yes, our organization, so dependent on communication, is in danger of disruption," concluded Turcas. "To avoid disorder, we think it best to retreat across the plain to our own range."
The one stroke of generalship by the Grays, who, otherwise, had succeeded alone through repeated mass attacks, had been Westerling's hypothesis that had gained Bordir in a single assault. "Engadir it is, then!" said Turcas with the loyalty of the subordinate who makes a superior's conviction his own, the better to carry it out.
"Try a woman," he went on with that terse, hard directness which reflected one of his sides. "There is nobody like a woman for that sort of thing. Spend enough to get the right woman." Turcas and Bouchard exchanged a glance, which rose suggestively from the top of the head of the seated vice-chief of staff. Turcas smiled slightly, while Bouchard was graven as usual.
The premier of the Browns found himself talking over the long distance to the premier of the Grays in as neighborly a fashion as if they had adjoining estates and were arranging a matter of community interest. "You have been so fine in waiving an indemnity," said the premier of the Grays, "that Turcas suggests we pay for all the damage done to property on your side by our invasion.
Westerling ran through the papers that Turcas had prepared for him. If Turcas had written the order for the wounded, Westerling knew that it was properly done. Having cleared his desk into the hands of his executive clerk, he looked at the clock. It had barely turned four.
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