The Climax-Madisonian. (Richmond, Madison County, Ky.) 1914-1917, 1915-08-11
Copyright. The Frank A. Munsey Co..

A.
The sun, after a long struggle with
the smoky fog, skunk down in his
course. The light changed to a dull
gray, kindly shutting out the sight of
red blotches on greenish-yellow grass,
a hideous contrast. There were no
sounds except those muffied clicks and
snaps that tell when an army is going
to. rest for the night.
The war master sat in a field tent,
gazing down the trampled hill to the
meadows where his hopes-for the
day-had been realized. Tomorrow?
No human being was near, unless one
could count as human the rigid figures
of the imperial guard. These statues,
formed in squares and lanes, were as
still as the night.
One lane was a long, narrowing
patch of haze, for the moon had not
yet risen to it's vain task of trying to
shine through the murk. And in this
lane, as the war master watched with
eyes that were focused on nothing at
all, something appeared. At first it
seemed like a gray veil, floating in
the outline of human form.
And now, still without salute or chal-
lenge, the silent thing, less like a gray
veil and more like the film of a man,
came to the tent slowly and entered.
Entered confidently, with the air of
an equal, and bowed, but only from the
neck and not from the hips. There
was no mistaking the cut of the cloak
and the cock of the hat.
The war masters eyes were cold,
too, returning the bow, but not so
calm. A sneer, whether in word or
look, is the easiest fashion of covering
surprise-or alarm. The war master
did not rise.
"One of the allies, 1 believe" he
said.
No." said the visitor in a dull
voice, SAY, rather a neutral"
Indeed" said the war master. els
not Corsica loyal to France?"
after a mans DEATH" said the
visitor, his politics and fealties dc
mot change; they merely disappear"
Il am pleased to hear that, Herr
"M Bonaparte, if you will, or even
Mister. l became accustomed to hear
ing the latter title aboard the Bel
lerophon."
The war master did not seem to be
listening. He was watching his visi
tor narrowly.
81 wonder" he began, and theI
ceased to speak.
You wonder" said the visitor, smil
ing, whether 1 am not real. / beg
to assure your majesty that 1 am not
real. 1 understand, of course, the
trend of your thoughts. 1t has &C
CURED to you, as it would occur tt
most trained men under similar cir
cumstances, that 1 might be some new
| output Of the wizardry of war-an i'm
palpable man, free to come and q
among the tents of the enemy. / saw
the brief flash of annoyance when i
came into Your mind that if there wal
any such deviltry possible your gentle
men of the laboratories should have
discovered it first"
"Such," said the war master ar
rogantly, lis our custom"
1.-THE speed of thought is one o
the few human things at which still
may marvel" pursued. the Corsican
|
that possibility, but a dozen ways il
which the magic might be used. There
is nothing contra in the rules of war
/ believe"
The war master raised his brows il
mock modesty.
"a dozen ways!" he repeated. "Yo,
flatter!"
NO." said the Corsican, cat Ieas
a dozen. perhaps a score. 1 know.
should have thought of fifty"
with such talent" began the wa
master, your total of successes"
Let me save your voice." inter
posed the Corsican blandly. ''Yol
would remind me that where / ende,
in failure at that very spot you begal
with success. But would remind yol
that any town is Waterloo where Wa
terloo is found"
"a ghostly warning" said the wa
master. laughing. He had risen a
if to end the interview. It was
habit, and he did not realize his erro
until he saw the Corsican smiling at il
mo, not warning said the visi
tor. at was idle chatter, mere words
But you see l have the whole evening
for my errand. Perhaps expected
more cordial meeting. 1 thought t
be formal, as people were long ago."
"You were not famed for formality,
suggested the war master.
Il had no time for it, returned tn
Corsican bit sadly. But hav
plenty now"
Then you have the advantage o
me-" said the war master. "Wha
is your errand? To ask questions?
A patient smile crossed the face o
the Corsican.
The war master turned upon hi
visitor with almost savageness.
Who-who sent your" he cried.
Jan Bedanow," replied the Corsi
can. The war masters shoulders
raised in suspense. fell to their mol
NAL angle.
II do not remember him." he said.
"You never knew him." said the Col