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Updated: June 13, 2025
Each murmured words of welcome on his own account. "We are here, thanks to you!" "And, thanks to you, our flag will float over the Gray range!" She must be tired, was their next thought. Four or five of them hurried to place a chair for her, the vice-chief winning over his rivals, more through the exercise of the rights of rank than by any superior alacrity.
"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.
Their tribute had the steadfast loyalty of soldiers who were craving to do anything in the world that she might ask, whether to go on their knees to her or to kill dragons for her. "I may come in?" she asked. "Who if not you is entitled to the privilege of the staff council?" exclaimed the vice-chief. The others did not propose to let him do all the honors.
The chiefs drew around the table and looked into one another's eyes in the significance of a common thought. "It cannot be a retreat!" said the vice-chief. "Hardly. That is inconceivable of Westerling at this time," Lanstron replied. "The bull charges when wounded. It is clear that he means to make another attack. These troops on the march across country are isolated from any immediate service."
His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of all Russias, His Councillor of State, Alexandre Miller, Diplomatic Agent and Consul-General in Mongolia; and His Holiness the Bogdo Djembzoun Damba Khoutoukhtou Khan of Outer Mongolia, Erdeni Djonan Beise Shirnin Damdin, Vice-Chief of Justice, and Touchetou Tsing Wang Tchakdourjab, Chief of Finance, who having verified their respective full powers found in good and due form, have agreed upon the following: Article 1.
"Your Excellency, we are doing our best," added the vice-chief, holding the door for Westerling to return to his own office. "The nation is not beaten. Given breathing time for reorganization, the army will settle down to the defensive on our own range. There the enemy may try our costly tactics against the precision and power of modern arms, if they choose. No, the nation is not beaten."
"If this were told, few would believe it; nor would they believe many other things in the inner history of armies which are forever held secret," thought the vice-chief. Outside, the stars were twinkling to acknowledge those little prayers of thanks, and the night was sweet and peaceful, while the army slept.
After a smile of satisfaction he corrected her. "Not quite; vice-chief the right-hand man of His Excellency. I am a buffer between him and the heads of divisions. This has led to the erroneous assumption which I cannot too forcibly deny " He was proceeding with the phraseology habitual whenever men or women, to flatter him, had intimated that they realized that he was the actual head of the army.
He worked fourteen hours a day, took no holidays and little exercise, violated the rules of health, and never appeared at gold-braid functions. The business of official display, as he said pungently, he delegated to that specialist, his handsome vice-chief of staff.
His natural sense of organization divided women into two classes: those of family and wealth, whom he met at great houses, and those purring kittens who live in small flats. Both afforded him diversion. A woman had been the most telling influence in making him vice-chief of staff; an affair to which gossip gave the breath of scandal had been an argument against him.
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