Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 26, 2025
The attack on Engadir being the jewel of Westerling's own planning, he was disinclined to risk success by delegating authority, which also meant sharing the glory of victory. Bouchard's note, though officially dismissed as a matter of pathology, would not accept dismissal privately.
There was nothing in her manner to imply that she was defending Hugo. She seemed to be incidentally justifying a previous observation of her own. A smile in face of death! Westerling's prayer was for countless masses of infantry who would smile in face of death and do his bidding. He could not resist a soldier's admiration, which, however, he would not permit to take the form of words.
"Stay in, alive or dead! Stay till I tell you to come out! Stay! I can't do any more! You must do it now!" "Then this may be truly the end," thought Marta, "if the assault fails." And silently she prayed that it would fail; while the flashes lighted Westerling's set features, imploring success. No commander was a more prodigal employer of spies than Napoleon.
Now Turcas, the assistant vice-chief of staff, and Bouchard, chief of the division of intelligence, standing on either side of Westerling's desk, awaited his decisions on certain matters which they had brought to his attention. Both were older than Westerling, Turcas by ten and Bouchard by fifteen years.
You have my confidence. I shall wait and hold the situation at home the best I can. We go into the hall of fame or into the gutter together, you and I!" For a while after he had hung up the receiver Westerling's head drooped, his muscles relaxed, giving mind and body a release from tension.
All that Westerling could tell was that she was thinking, and thinking hard. There was a space of silence broken only by the movement of the teaspoon. Hugo was the first to speak. "I believe in patriotism, sir. That means love of country. I love my country," he said slowly. A preachment of patriotism from this nonchalant private was a straw too much for Westerling's patience.
Tell Westerling to come out!" rose the impatient shouts behind the two figures in the doorway. "You are sure that he has one?" whispered Turcas to Westerling's aide. "Yes," was the choking answer "yes. It is better than that" with a glance toward the mob. "I left my own on the table." "We can't save him! We shall have to let them "
Very cosey and pleasant, yes, the company of a prophetess, with a ray of sunlight making her hair an aurora of flashing bronze overtopping a brown face, the eyes holding answers to an increasing number of unasked questions about the new forces that he had found in her. "Why, yes," she agreed with evident pleasure, for she was thinking of Hugo. Turcas now came, in answer to Westerling's ring.
His Excellency, with the prestige of a career, must be kept soporifically enjoying the forms of authority. To arouse his jealousy might curtail Westerling's actual power. "Yes, yes!" breathed Marta softly, arching her eyebrows a trifle as she would when looking all around and through a thing or when she found any one beating about the bush.
Confidence was reflected in Westerling's bearing and in his smile of command as he passed through the staff rooms, Turcas and Bouchard in his train, with tacit approval of the arrangements. Finally, Turcas, now vice-chief of staff, and the other chiefs awaited his pleasure in the library, which was to be his sanctum. On the massive seventeenth-century desk lay a number of reports and suggestions.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking