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Updated: May 16, 2025
At any moment he expected to hear a cheer from the knoll, and what would follow the cheer he knew only too well. Yet he tarried with Stransky out of one man's impulse not to desert another in danger. At the same time he was wroth with the old man for having made such a nuisance of himself. "What are you waiting for?" Stransky demanded of Dellarme.
Got a game leg!" said grandfather, pointing to a swollen ankle that had been bruised by a piece of shrapnel jacket that had lost most of its velocity before striking him. "You do your duty and leave me alone. I ain't a fighting man any more. I done my work when I steadied you young fellows." "Yes, go on, Fragini," said Dellarme. "Attend to your men. Everybody in his place.
It was not for Dellarme to ask questions of a prize-medallist graduate of the school for officers in a blue blouse and crownless straw hat. His expert survey assured him that before another rush the enemy had certain preparations to make. He might give his fighting smile a recess and permit himself a few minutes' relaxation.
"No, I think I'd like to save it as a souvenir the odds are so greatly against me as a sort of souvenir to keep up my courage." His tone, the way he drew the muscles of his face, ironed out her frown of disgust at public opinion with a smile. For he made his kind of courage no less light-hearted and free of pose than Dellarme had made his.
The skin on his high cheek-bones was drawn tighter than before, further exaggerating the size of his nose, and the deeper set of his eyes gave their cross a more marked character. He carried on the spirit of Dellarme in the company in his own fashion.
You have refused to fight! Within the law I am warranted in shooting you dead!" "Well!" answered Stransky, throwing back his head, his face seeming all big, bony nose and heavy jaw and burning eyes. "Will you get down? Will you take your place with your rifle?" demanded Dellarme. Stransky laughed thunderously in scorn.
Thus the old sergeant had seen a general remonstrate with a brave veteran who had been guilty of bad conduct in Africa. The old colonel gasped at such a subversion of the dignity of rank. He saw the army going to the devil. But young Dellarme, watching with eager curiosity, was sensible of no familiarity in the act. It all depended on how such a thing was done, he was thinking.
We can train and train an officer, but when war comes well, no amount of training will supply a certain quality that must be inborn the quality of command." "Such as Dellarme had!" she exclaimed absently, under her breath. She had forgotten her part and Westerling's presence. The given point of her gaze was exactly where Dellarme lay when he died.
"I ain't going to and you're a traitor, anyway; that's what you are!" "No back talk! No politics in this!" Stransky replied. "Get up! You carry your skin and I'll carry your bones. Get up quick!" With Dellarme's authoritative assistance grandfather mounted. Then Dellarme put Stransky's pack on his own back. "Let me carry your rifle, too," he said to Stransky as they started.
"Another for Dellarme!" called Stransky, who seemed to think that he and not the callow lieutenant was in command. This they gave, standing instinctively at attention, with heads bared, for the leader whose spirit survived in them; a cheer with triumph in its roar, but a different sort of triumph from the first cheer.
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