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"What do you think of this?" he cried. "Nothing could stop him! Lanstron yes, Lanstron has gone into that charge with the African Braves!" In these days, when units of a vast army in the same uniform, drilled in the same way, had become interchangeable parts of a machine, the African Braves still kept regimental fame.
"The Greeks for poetry and the Romans for war!" he declared, and could argue his company to sleep if anybody disputed him. "I want to be in one fight. I haven't been under fire in the whole war," Lanstron explained to the colonel, who understood precisely the feeling. "Lanstron is with us! The chief of staff is watching us!" ran the whisper from flank to flank of the Braves.
Yes, all over again; still more horrible and it was horrible enough then! I used to get giddy easily. I do yet. But I didn't faint no, not once through the days of nursing, the weeks of suspense. I wondered afterward how I could have endured so much." "Are we of the septicized-serum age equal to it?" Marta exclaimed. "Yes, we of the matter-of-fact, automatic gun-recoil age!" put in Lanstron.
I can never forget the sight of him as he told me how two or three or four hundred thousand men were to be crowded into a ram, as he called it a ram of human flesh! and guns enough in support, he said, to tear any redoubts to pieces; guns enough to make their shells as thick as the bullets from an automatic!" "We'll meet ram with ram! We'll have some guns, too!" exclaimed Lanstron.
He was thinking aloud, a habit of his, in Lanstron's company, when an idea requiring gestation came to him. "My boy, it is not fatal if we lose the apron of Engadir. The defences behind it are very strong." "No, not fatal," Lanstron agreed. "But it's very important." "And Westerling will think it fatal. Yes, I understand his character.
When he heard of the death of the Gallands' gardener he recollected that before the passion for gambling overtook Feller he had still another passion besides his guns. The garden of the Feller estate had been famous in its neighborhood. Young Lanstron had not been more fond of the society of an engine-driver than young Feller of a gardener's.
"A broken-hearted man playing deaf; a secret telephone installed on our premises without our consent this is all I know so far," said Marta, who was opposite Lanstron at one end of the circular seat in the arbor of Mercury, leaning back, with her weight partly resting on her hand spread out on the edge of the bench, head down, lashes lowered so that they formed a curtain for her glance.
With literal brevity she told how she had proved him to be a man of most sensitive hearing. "I didn't let him know that he was discovered. I felt too much pity for him to do that. You brought him here you, Lanny, you are the one to explain." "True, he is not deaf!" Lanstron replied. "You knew he was not deaf, while we wrote our messages to him and I have been learning the deaf-and-dumb alphabet!
The chiefs of divisions who were with Lanstron alternately sat down and paced the floor, their restlessness now that of a happiness too deeply thrilling to be expressed by hilarity. Each fresh detail only confirmed the completeness of the repulse as that memorable night in the affairs of the two nations slowly wore on.
When Lanstron had told the story, Partow worked his lips in a way he had if he were struck by a passing reflection which might or might not have a connection with the subject in hand. "Strange about her when you consider who her parents were!" he said. "But you never know. His son," nodding to Toil, "might be a great painter or a snob.
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