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The one stroke of generalship by the Grays, who, otherwise, had succeeded alone through repeated mass attacks, had been Westerling's hypothesis that had gained Bordir in a single assault. "Engadir it is, then!" said Turcas with the loyalty of the subordinate who makes a superior's conviction his own, the better to carry it out.
A glance or two of curiosity was exchanged. Why should the chief of staff ask so elementary a question? Westerling was not unconscious of the glances or of their meaning. They gave dramatic value to his next remark. "We are going to mass for our main attack in front at Bordir!" "But," exclaimed four or five officers at once, "that is the heart of the position! That is "
It would be of use, however, if we had plans of the forts that would enable us to check off his report intelligently." "Yet, what evidence have we that Partow or Lanstron has done more than to make a fortunate guess or show military insight?" Westerling asked. "There is the case of my own belief that Bordir was weak, which proved correct."
He resented the staff's professional respect for Turcas. After a silence and a survey of the faces around, he added with sententious effect: "And I was right about Bordir!" To this argument there could be no answer.
This horrible thing in his glance she had sometimes seen in strangers on her travels, and it had made her think that she was wise to carry a little revolver. She wanted to strike him. "Confess! Confess!" called all her own self-respect. "Make an end to your abasement!" "Confession, after the Browns have given up Bordir!
He accepted success as his due, in a matter-of-course manner that must inspire confidence in further success. "You were right," he said to Marta easily, pleasantly. "We did it we did it we took Bordir with a loss of only twenty thousand men!" Only twenty thousand!
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