The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1915-02-27

was recovering its natural confidence
in the infallibility of his judgment OF
human beings. He was seeing his sus
picions as ridiculous enough to con
vict him of a brain as disordered as
Bouchard's.
Marta was thinking that she had
been skating on very thin ice and
that she must go on skating till she
broke through. There was an exhila
ration about it that she could not re
sist: the exhilaration of risk and the
control of her faculties. prompted by
a purpose hypnotically compelling
| Both were silent, she watching the
sky, he in anticipation and suspense.
The rose went violet and the shadows
over the range deepened.
THE guns and the troops wait.
/ With darkness the music begins!" he
said slowly, with a start of stern
! fervor.
The music-the music. He calls
it music!" ran through Marta's mind
mockingly, but she did not open her
! lips.
They wait, ready. every detail ar
ranged" he continued proudly.
The sky merged into the shadows OF
the landscape that spread and thick
ened into blackness. Out of the drawn
curtains of night broF1 an ugly fash
and farther up the slope spread the
explosive circle of light of a bursting
shell.
The signal" he exclaimed.
Right and left the blasts spread
along the Gray lines and right and
left, on the instant. the Browns sent
their blasts in reply. Countless tongues
OF flame seemed to burst from count
less craters, and the range to rock in
a torment of crashes. In the inter-
venlng space between the ugly, saw
age gusts from the Gray gun mouths,
which sent their shells from the midst
of exploding Brown shells, swept the
beams of the Brown search-lights,
their rays lost like sunlight in the vor-
tex of an open furnace door.
Splendid! splendiI!" exclaimed
Westerling, in a sweep of emotion at
the sight that d been born of his
command. Eve thousand guns on
our side alone! The world has never
seen the equal of this!'
Marta looked away from the range
to his face. very distinct in the garish
illumination. 1t was the face of a.
maestro of war seeing all his rehear-
sails and all his labors come true in
symphonic qualification to the eye
and ear; the face of a man of trained
mind, the product of civilization, with
the elation of party leader on the
floor of parliament in a crisis.
Soon, now!" said Westerling, and
looked at his watch.
Shortly. in the direction of Engadir
to the rear of the steady flashes
broke forth line after line of flashes
as the long-range batteries, which so
far had been silent, joined their might
Ter voices to the chorus, making a con-
tinuous leaping burst of explosions
over the Brown positions, which were
the real object Of the attack.
THE moment I've lived fort" ex-
claimed Westerling. Our infantry is
starting up the apron of Engadir! We
held back the fire of the heavy guns
concentrated for the purpose of sup
porting the men with an outburst.
Three hundred heavy guns pouring in
their shells on a space of two acres!
We're tearing their redoubts to pieces!
They can't see to fire! They can't
live under it! They're in the crater
of a volcano! When our infantry is,
on the edge Of the wreckage the guns
cease. Our infantry crowd in-crowd
into the house that Partow built.
He'll find that numbers count: that
the power of modern gunfire will open
the way for infantry in masses to take
and hold vital tactical positions! And
-no-no, their fire in reply is not as
strong as l expected"
Because they are letting you in!
1t will be strong enough in due sea-
SOM" thought Marta in the uncontrol.
liable triumph of antagonism. Five
against three was in his tone and in
every line of his features.
Its hard for a soldier to leave a
sight like this, but the real news will
be awaiting me at my desk" he con-
cluded, adding, as he turned away:
Its fireworks worth seeing, and IL
you remain here l will return to tell
you the results"
Turning her back to the range for
the moment, she saw the twinkle of
the lights of the town and the threads
Of light Of the wagon-trains and the
sweep of the lights of the railroad
trains on the plain; while in the fore.
ground every window of the house was
ablaze, like some factory on a busy
night shift. She could hear the click
Of the telegraph instruments already
reporting the details of the action as
sheerfully as Brobdingnagian crickets
in their peaceful surroundings. Then
out OF the shadows Westerling reap
peared.
The apron Of Engadir is ours!" he
called. Thanks to you'll" he added
with pointed emphasis. Back in the
house he had received congratula-
tions with nod, as il success were
matter of course. Before her, ex-
ultation unbent stiffness, and he was
hoarsely triumphant and eager. Its
plain sailing now" he went on. "A
break in the main line! We have
only to drive home the wedge, and
then-and then!" he concluded.
She felt him close, his breath on
her cheek.