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FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER It.
In this story Mr. Palmer, the
noted war correspondent, has paint*
ed war as he has seen It on many
battlefields, and between many na
tions. His Intimate knowledge of
armies and armaments has enabled
him to produce a graphic picture of
the greatest of all wars, and hla
knowledge of conditions has led
him to prophesy an end of armed
conflicts. No man Is be,ter quali
fied to write the story of the final
world war than Mr. Palmer, and
he hae handled his subject with a
master hand
• tavaa*
(Continued ironi Yesterday.)
- -
“That is !i,” she exclaimed ,vtth a 1
si-udder—“ail :~v eavesdropping, all j
my breach of confidence! If—if It" — j
tad her voice trembled with the In
tensity of the one purpose that was
bhining with the light of truth through
the murk of her deception—"it will
only help to and the slaughter!” Bhe
held out her hand convulsively in
pasting as if she would leave the rest
with him.
"I think it will,” he said soberly. !
"I thtuk it will prove that you have
dons a great service,” he repeated as ,
be caught both ner hands, which were
cold from her ordeal. His own were
warm with the strong beating of his
heart stirred by the promise of what !
he had just heard. But he did not
prolong the grasp. He was as eager
to be away to his work as she to be
alone. “I think It will. You will kuow
in the morning," he added.
His steps were sturdier than ever
in the power of five against three as
he started back to the house. When '
he reached the veranda, Bouchard, the
saturnine chief of intelligence, ap
peared in the doorway of the dining
room; or, rather, reappeared, for ha*<
had been standing there throughout
the interview of Westerling and Marta,
whose heads were-just visible, above
the terrace wall, to his hawk eyes.
“A little promenade in the open and
tny mind made up,” Raid Westerling,
clapping Bouchard on the shoulder.
“Something about an attack to
night?” asked Bouchard.
"You guess right. Call the others.”
Five minutes later he was seated
at the head of the dining-room table
with hie chiefs around him waiting for j
their chairman to speak. He asked
some categorical questions almost per- :
functorily, and the answer to each
was. “Ready!” with, in some instances,
a qualification—the qualification made
by regimental and brigade command
ers that, though they oould take the
position in front oij them, the cost
would be heavy. Yes, all were willing
and ready for the first general assault
of the war, but they wanted to state
the costs as a matter of professional
self-defense.
Westerling could pose when it
served his purpose. Now he rose and,
going to one of the wall maps, indi
cated a point with his forefinger.
“If we get that we have the most
vital position, haven't we?”
Some uttered a word of assent;
some only nodded. A glance or two
of curiosity was exchanged. Why
should the chief of staff ask so ele
mentary a question? Westerling was
not unconscious of the glances or of
their meaning. They gave dramatlo
value to his next remark.
“We are going to mass for our main
attack in front at Bordir!”
“But,” exclaimed four or five offi
cers at once, “that is the heart of
the position! That is—”
“I believe it is weak—that It will
fall, and tonight!”
“You have information, then, lnfor
-mation that I have not?” asked Bou
chard.
"No more than you,” replied Wester
ling. "Not as much If you have any
thing new.”
"Nothing 1” admitted Bouchard wryly.
He lowered hie head under Wester
ling’s penetrating look In the con
sciousness of failure^
“I am going on a conviction—on
putting two and two together!” Wes
terling announced. "I am going on my
experience as a soldier, as a chief of
staff. If I am wrong, I take the re
sponsibility. If I am right, Bordir will
be ours before morning. It is settled!"
"If you are right, then,” exclaimed
Turcas—“well, then It’s genius or— ’’ I
He did cot finish the sentence. He 1
had been about to say coincidence; j
while Westerling knew that If he were
right all the rising skepticism in cer
tain quarters, owing to the delay in
bis program, would be silenced. His |
prestige would be unassailable.
CHAPTER XVI.
Marking Time.
Boon after dark the attack began.
Flashes from gun mouths and glow
ing sheets of flame from rifles made
ugly revelry, while the beams of
search-lights swept hither and thither.
7 his kept np till shortly after mid
night, when It died down and, where
hell's concert had raged, silent dark
ness shrouded the hills. Marta knew
that Bordir was taken without having
to ask Lanstrnn or wait for confirms
Hoc from Westerling.
She was seated in the recess of the I
grboc U>« gorging, when she
heard the approach of those regular,
powerful steps whose character had
become as distinct to her as those
of a member of her own family. Five
against three! five against three! they
were saying to her; while down the
pass road and the castle road ran the
stream of wounded from last nlght/s
slaughter.
Posted in the drawing-room of the
Galland house were the congratula
tions of the premier to Westerling,
who had come from the atmosphere of
a staff that accorded to him a mili
tary insight.far above the analysis of
ordinary standards. But he was too
clever a man to vaunt his triumph.
He knew r how to carry his honors.
He accepted success as his due, in a
matter-of-course manner that must In
spire 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! Her revul
sion at the bald statement was re
lieved by the memory of Danny’s word
over the telephone after breakfast that
the Browns had lost only five thou
sand. Four to one was a wide ratio,
she was thinking.
“Then the end —then peace la ao
much nearer?" she asked.
“Very much nearer!” he answered
earnestly, as he dropped -m the bench
beside her.
He stretched his arms out on the
b’ack of the seat and the relaxed atti
tude, unusual with him, brought into
relief a new trait of which Bhe had
been hitherto oblivious. The con
queror had become simply a compan
ionable man. Though he was not git
ting close to her, yet, as his eyes met
hers, she had a desire to move away
which she knew would be unwise to
gratify. She was conscious of a cer
tain softening charm, a magnetism
that she had sometimes felt In the
days when she (Inst knew him. She
realized, too, that then the charm had
not been mixed with the indescribable,
intimate quality that it held now.
"In the midst of congratulations
after the position was taken last
night,” he declared, “I confess that I
was thinking less of success than of
its source.” He bent on her a look
that was warm with gratitude.
She lowered her lashes before it;
before gratitude that made her part
appear in a fresh angle of misery.
“There seems to be a kind of fa
tality about our relations,” he went on.
“I lay awake pondering it last night.”
His tone held more than gratitude. It
had the elation of discovery.
“He is going to make it harder than
I ever guessed!" echoed her own
thought, in a flutter of confusion.
“Yes, it was strange our meeting on
the frontier in peaoe and then in war!”
she exclaimed at random. The sound
of the remark struck her as too sub
dued; as expectant, when her purpose
was one of careless deprecation.
"I have met a great many women,
as you may have imagined,” he pro
ceeded. “They have passed in review.
They were simply women, witty and
frail or dull and beautiful, and one
meant no more to me than another.
Nothing meant anything to me except
my profession. But I never forgot you.
You planted something in mind: a
memory of real companionship."
“Yes, I made the prophecy that
came true!” she put in. This ought
to bring him back to himself and hie
ambitions, she thought.
“Yes!” he exclaimed, his body stif
fening free of the back of the seat.
“You realized what was in me. You
foresaw the power which was to be
mine. The fate that first brought us
together made me look you up in the
capital. Now it brings us together
hern on this bench after all that has
passed in the last twenty-four hours.”
She realized that he had drawn per
ceptibly nearer. She wanted to rise
and ory out: "Don’t do this! Be the
chief of staff, the conqueror, crushing
the earth with the tread of five against
three!” It was the conqueror whom
she wanted to trick, not a man whose
earnestness was painting her deceit
blacker. Far from rising, she made no
movement at all; only looked at her
hands and allowed him to go on, con
scious of the force of a personality
that mastered men and armies now
warm and appealing In the full tide of
another purpose.
“The victory that I was thinking of
last night was not the taking of Bor
dir. It was finer than any victory in
war. It was selfish—not for army
and country, but horn of a human
weakness triumphant; a human weak
ness of which my career bad robbed
me,” he continued. "It gave me a
joy that even the occupation of the
Browns’ capital could not give. I had
come as an invader and I had won
your confident's.”
"In a cause!” she interrupted hur
riedly. wildly, to stop him from going
further, only to find that her intona
tion was such that it was drawing him
on.
"That fatality seemed to be working
Itself out to the soldier so much older
than yourself In renewed youth. In
another form of ambition. I hoped
that there waa more than th« cause
that led you to trust me. I hoped— ’’
Was he testing her? Was he play
ing a part of his ow n to make certain
that she was not playing one? She
looked up swiftly for answer. There
was no gainsaying what, she saw In
his eyes. It was heating into hers
with the power of au overwhelming
masculine passion and a maturity of
intellect as his egoism admitted a com
rade to its throne. Such is ever the
ray of a man in the forties when the
clock strike© for him. But who could
know better the craft of courtship
than one of Westerling's experience?
He was fighting for victory; to gratify
a desire.
"1- did not expect this—l—” the
words escaped tumultuously and chok
ingly.
He was bending so close to her that
she felt his breath on her cheek burn
ing hot, and she was stckeningly con
scious that he was looking her over
in that polnt-by-Rolnt manner which
she had felt across the tea-table at
the hotel. 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 littlo revolver. She wanted
to strike him.
“Confess! Confess!” called all her
owm self-respect. “Make an end to
your abasement!”
“Confession, after the Browns have
given up Bordir! Confession that
makes Lanny, not Westerling, your
dupe!” came the reply, which might
have been telegraphed Into her mind
from the high, white forehead of Par
tow bending over his maps. “Confes
sion, betraying the cause of the right
against the wrong; the three to the
conquering five! No! You are in
the thing. You may not retreat now.”
For a few eeoonds only the duel
of argument thundered in her temples
—seconds in which her lips were part
ed and quivering and her eyes dilated
with an agitation which the man at
her side could interpret as he pleased.
A prompting devil—a devil roused by
that thing in his eyes—urging a
finesse In double-dealing which only
devils understand, made her lips hyp
notically turn in a smile, her eyes
soften, and eent her hand out to Wes
terling In a trancelike gesture. For an
Instant it rested on his arm with tell
ing pressure, though she felt it burn
with Bhame at the point of contact.
“We must not think of that now,”
she said. “We must think of nothing
personal; of nothing but your work
until your work is done!"
The prompting devil had not permit
ted a false note In her voice. Her
very pallor, In fixity of idea, served
her purpose. Westerling drew a deep
breath that seemed to expand his
whole being with greater appreciation
of her. Yet that harried hunger, the
hunger of a beast, was still in hla
glance.
"This is like you—like what 1 want
you to be!” he said. “You are right.”
He caught her hand, inclosing it en
tirely in his grip, and she was sen
sible, in a kind of dazed horror, of the
thrill of his strength. "Nothing can
stop uel Numbers will wlnl Hard
fighting in the mercy of a quick end!”
he deolared with his old rigidity of
five against three which w’as welcome
to her. “Then," he added “and
then—”
“Then!” she repeated, averting her
glance. “Then—" There the devil
ended the sentence and she withdrew
her hand and felt the relief of one es
caping suffocation, to find that he had
realized that anything furtner during
that interview would be banality and
was rising to go.
“I don’t feel decent!" she thought.
“Society turned on Minna for a hu
man weakness, but I —l’m not a human
being! lam one of the pawns of the
machine of war!"
Walking slowly with lowered head
as she left the arbor, she almort ran
into Bouchard, who apologized with
the single word “Pardon!" as he lifted
his cap In overdone courtesy, which
his stolid brevity made the more oom
splcuous.
“Miss Galland, you seem lost in ab
straction,” he said in sudden loquao
ity. “I am almost on the point of
accusing you of being a poet.”
“Aocuglng!” she replied. "Then you
must think that I would write bad
poetry.”
"On the contrary, I should say ex
cellent—using the sonnet form,” he re
turned.
“I might make a counter accusa
tion, only that yours would be the
epic form," answered Marta. “For you,
too, seem fond of rambling.”
There was a veiled challenge in the
hawk eyes, which she met with com
monplace politeness In hers, before
be again lifted his cap and proceeded
on hl« way.
For the next two weeks Marta's role
resolved Itself Into a kind of routine.
Their cramped quarters became a
refuge to Marta in the trial of her
secret work under the very nose of
the staff. With little Clarissa Kllecn,
they formed the only feminine society
in the neighborhood. On sunshiny
days Mrs. Galland was usually to be
found In her favorite chair outside
the lower door; and here Minna set
the urn on a fable at four-thirty as In
thee,id days /
(To be :t>.otLaued Tomorrow.)
THE AUGUSTA HERALD, AUGUSTA, GA.
“THE SHOP OF QUALITY”
Our buyer is in the Northern markets, and every day we see the fruits of
his labors. New goods are coming in daily. They are carefully selected and
at this end of the line we are doing our part by marking these new things ac
cording to the “live and let live" method.
Our Ready-to-Wear Department is putting on Winter Attire. We invite
you to visit us and look. You’ll find it interesting as well as profitable. The
lookers of today are the buyers of tomorrow. We only ask you to look at our
line when passing this way.
FOR FRIDAY AND SATURDAY’S SELLING
House Dresses
SI.OO Values 75c
$1.25 values 89c
$1.50 values SI.OO
Boys’ Nainsook Underwear. ...17c
Men’s Nainsook and Gauze Under
wear •. ...19c
A good Gingham at 5c
Standard Calicoes at 5c
36 inch Sea Island at 5c
Ladies’ Linen Handkerchiefs at.. .5c
Good Outing at 71-2 c
LADIES* WAISTS
Lot No. 1
Values up to $1.50 to go at
25c
Lot No. 2
Values up to $3.50 to go at
50c
Lot No. 0
Some $5.00 Silk Waists in the lot
SI.OO
1 lot Satteen Petticoats, silk ruffle
SI.OO
Children's Rain Capes, good values,
$1.50
Kimonos
Pure Silk, values up to $7.50, at. $3.98
A good Kimono for 75c
$1.25 value Kimono for 89c
$1.50 value Kimono for SI.OO
$2.00 value Kimono for $1.49
$2.50 value Kimono for $1.95
Hosiery Specials
Guaranteed Hose for men, women
and children 10c
Ladies’Silk Boot 15c
50c Quality 39c
SI.OO value 89c
Children’s Hose, pink, blue, white 19c
THIRTEEN