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Updated: May 16, 2025
Dellarme meant to look after grandfather, but his attention was engrossed in seeing that his men withdrew cautiously, for every minute that he was able to delay the enemy's charge was vital. He himself picked up a rifle in order to increase the volume of fire when the third section was starting.
It was to allow the ground scouts to advance. Individual gray spots detaching themselves from the gray streak began to crawl upward in search of dead spaces where the contour of the ground would furnish some protection from the blaze of bullets from the crest. "Over their heads! Don't try to hit them!" Dellarme passed the word. "That's it!
From the peremptory way that he spoke, Dellarme might have been the private and Stransky the officer. "Right!" said Dellarme in face of such unanswerable military logic, and broke into a run. Stransky adapted himself to a pace which he thought he could maintain, and plodded on, eyes on the bush as a half-way point.
"Yes," said Dellarme, who with Tom eased the fall of the limp body. The thumping of an old man's heart with the youth of a Hussar had been too much for it. "He was game!" said Stransky. "There isn't much in this world except to be game, I've concluded; and you can't be so old or so poor or so big-nosed and wall-eyed that you can't be game."
"We shall, eh?" chuckled the colonel. "You look big enough to hold anything, young man! Here! Isn't this the fellow that Lanstron got off?" "Yes, sir," answered Dellarme. "Well, was Lanstron right?" "Yes, sir." "Wonderful man, Lanstron!" "He knows just' a little too much!" Stransky half growled.
No less than Dellarme or Fracasse or Lanstron or Westerling, he had been preparing throughout his professional career for this hour. The detail of caring for the men who were down had been worked out no less systematically than that of wounding them. "Thank you, no! We don't want to waste time," he replied. "We must get them away with all speed so that the ambulances may return promptly.
Having watched the result, Dellarme turned with a confirmatory gesture, which the corporal translated into the wigwag of "Correct!" The shrapnel smoke hanging over Fracasse's men appeared a heavenly blue to Dellarme's men. "They are going to start for us soon! Oh, but we'll get a lot of them!" whispered Stransky gleefully to his rifle. Dellarme glanced again toward the colonel's station.
There was a perceptible shudder on Marta's part, an abrupt, tossing elevation of her head. She stared at the spot where Dellarme had lain in the garden. Dellarme's smile was back on her lips; it seemed graven there. Her eyes, which Westerling could not see, were leaping flames.
Shortly after Stransky had finished his meal Minna came to say that Major Dellarme wished to speak to Miss Galland. Dellarme a major! This was his reward for his part in filling the ambulances with groans! In the days when he was at the La Tir garrison he had been a frequent caller.
They felt themselves bound and gagged, waiting for an assassin to macerate them at his own sweet will. The second hour was worse than the first, the third worse than the second. In lulls they heard the voices of Dellarme and his men, which seemed more ominous than the crash of rifles or the scream and crack of shells.
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