The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1915-02-06
CHAPTER XIV.
In FeIIer's Place.

In FeIIers Place.
What am l? What have I done?
What am about to do? shot as forked
shadows over the hot lava-1ow of Mar
ta's impulse. The vitality that Wester-
ling had felt by suggestion from still
profile rejoiced in quickening of pace
directly she was out of sight OF the
veranda. All the thinking she had
done that afternoon had been in pic
lures; some saying, some cry, some.
groan, or some smile went with every
picture.
The sitting-room of the tower was
empty to other eyes but not to hers.
The lantern was in the corner at hand.
After her Fastening steps had carried
her along the tunnel to the telephone,
she set down the lantern and pressed
the spring that opened the panel door.
Another moment and she would be en-
barked on her great adventure in the
fnality of action. That little ear-piece
became a specter of conscience. She
drew back convulsively and her hands
few to her face; she was a rocking
shadow in the thin, reddish light of
the lantern.
Conscious mind had torn off the
mask from subconscious mind, reveal
ing the true nature of the change that
war had wrought in her. She who had
resented Feller's part-what a part
she had been playing! Every word.
every shade of expression, every tell.
ing pausesof abstraction after Wester.
ling confessed that he had made war
for his own ends had been subtly
prompted by purpose whose actuality
terrified her.
Her hypocrisy, she realized, was as
black as the wall of darkness beyond
the lanterns CLEAN. Then this demon.
alization passed, as a nightmare
passes, with Westerling's boast again
in her ears.
When wars principles, enacted by
men, were based on sinister trickery
called strategy and tactics, should not
women, using such weapons as they
had, also fight for their homes? Mar
ta's hands swept down from her eyes;
she was on fire with resolution.
Forty miles away a bell in Ian
strons bedroom and at his desk rang
simultaneously. At the time he and
Partow we're seated facing each other
across map on the table of the room
where they worked together. No per
suasion of the young vice-chief, nc
edict Of the doctors, could make the
old chief take exercise or shorten his
hours.
Il know. I know myself" he said
Il know my duty. And you are learn
ing, my boy, learning!"
Every day the fiabby cheeks grew
pastier and the pouches under the eye
brows heavier. But there was ne
dimming of the eagle flashes Of the
eyes, no weakening of the will Las
night Lanstron had turned as whit,
as chalk when Partow staggered or
rising from the table, the veins on his
temples knotted blue whip-cords. Ye'
after few hours sleep he reappearet
with firm step, fresh for the fray.
The paraphernalia around these two
was the same as that around Wester
ling. Only the atmosphere of the stat
was different. Each man was perform
ing the part set for him. No man knew
much OF any other mans part. Partov
alone knew all, and Lanstron was try
ing to grasp all and praying that Par
tow's old body should still feed hi
mind with energy. Lanstron was thin
ner and paler, new and glittering In
tensity in his eyes.
When word of Fellers detection
came, Lanstron realized for the frs
time by Partow's manner that the oil,
chief Of staff, with all his depreciation
of the telephone scheme as chimerical
had grounded hope on 1t.
There was the chance that W,
might know-so vital to the defense
what they were going to do before an,
not after the attack" he said.
Yet the story of how Teller yielde,
to the temptation of the automatic ha,
made the nostrils of the old warriors
culver with dramatic breath, and ir
stead of the command of a battery o
guns, which Lanstron had promised
the chief made 1t a battalion. He ha
drawn down his brows when he hear
that Marta had asked that the wir
be left intact; he had shot a shrewd
questioning glance at Lanstron an
then beat a tattoo on the table an
half grinned as he grumbled under hi
breath:
She Is afraid Of being lonesome! N
harm done!"
A week had passed since the Gray
had taken the Galland house, and stil
no word from Marta. The ring of tn