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Updated: May 26, 2025
Once we have a tenable foothold on the crest of the range the Brown army must fall back and the rest will be a matter of skilful pursuit." The premier, as he listened, rolled the paper-knife over and over, regarding its polished sides, which were like Westerling's manner of facile statement of a programme certain of fulfilment. "We can win, then?
Feller would know Westerling's plans before they were even in the first steps of execution. This" playing the thought happily "this would be the ideal arrangement, while our planes and dirigibles were kept over our lines to strike down theirs. And, Marta, that is all," he concluded. "I've tried to make everything clear." "You have, quite!" Marta replied decisively. "Now it is my turn to talk."
That sort of business was buried as securely as Westerling's ambition. Partow's name kept recurring; one of the paragraphs of his message, showing how clearly he had foreseen the effect on sentiment, was frequently quoted: "We have had war's test; who wants it repeated? We have kept peace with force between these two brave, high-spirited peoples; why not have the peace of wisdom?
"If moving pictures of the horrors of Port Arthur were to be shown in our barracks before a war, it would hardly encourage martial enthusiasm. I shall look this over and then have it issued. It will not be necessary to wait on action of the staff in council." Turcas and Bouchard exchanged another glance. They had fresh evidence of Westerling's tendency to concentrate authority in himself.
Then followed a brief, intimate, appealing story of how each of his dead comrades had fallen. "'You can read these to their folks at home, if you want to. They might like to know." Irresistibly there crept into Westerling's face at these recitals of soldierly courage the satisfaction of the commander with the spirit of his men. Here was proof of the valor of the units of his army.
"Our house Westerling's headquarters!" she repeated. With a start that brought her up erect, alert, challenging, her lashes flickering, she recalled that Westerling had said at parting that he should see her if war came. This corroborated Lanstron's information. One side wanted a spy in the garden; the other a general in the house. Was she expected to make a choice? He had ceased to be Lanny.
"I believe it is weak that it will fall, and to-night!" "You have information, then, information that I have not?" asked Bouchard. "No more than you," replied Westerling. "Not as much if you have anything new." "Nothing!" admitted Bouchard wryly. He lowered his head under Westerling's penetrating look in the consciousness of failure. "I am going on a conviction on putting two and two together!"
"We have the numbers to spare. Numbers shall press home home to terms in their capital!" Westerling's voice grew husky as he proceeded, harsh as orders to soldiers who hesitated in face of fire. "After that after that" the tone changed from harshness to desire, which was still the desire of possession "the fruits of peace, a triumph that I want you to share!"
If the Gray tacticians had been outplayed by their opponents, if their losses for the ground gained exceeded calculations, then it was good to have a scapegoat for their professional mistakes. Bouchard was Westerling's choice for chief of intelligence.
Jumping to their feet they broke into a run, bodies bent, heads down, like the peppered silhouette that faced Westerling's desk. What they had done repeatedly in drills and manoeuvres they were now doing in war, mechanically as marionettes. "Come on! The bullet is not made that can get me! Come on!" cried the giant Eugene Aronson.
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