The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1915-04-16
Copyright. The Frank A. Munsey Coz

|
red blotchss on greenish-yellow grass
a hideous contrast. There were NO
sounds except those muffled clicks and
snaps that tell when an army is going
to rest for the night; few lights ex.
cept those that cleaned from the tents
of the great, far from the trenches
where the silent spades were at work.
Yet these lights were nearer to the
spades and the shadowy trenches than
is usual in modern warfare. The war
master had so willed it; it was to be
his battle, with him in personal COM
| mand.
Now he sat in a field tent, gazing
down the trampled hill to the mead
| ows where his hopes-for the day
had been realized. Tomorrow? The
general staff would take care of that in
its usual wise way-if he approved its
| plans. None of his own personal
staff was with him, for he had sig
nailed, with that abrupt gesture known
to all Europe, his wish to be alone.
still as the night. One Of the lanes
| stretched from the front of the tent
halfway down to the valley, where
| the roots of the clover raised their
tentacles to sip the fertilizing blood.
This lane was a long, narrowing
patch of haze, for the moon had not
yet risen to its vain task of trying to
shine through the murk. And in this
lane, as the war master watched with
ewes that wpra fOcucad on potbipe n r
all, something appeared. AT first it
seemed like gray veil, floating in
the outline of a human form. But 1t
could be no human, for the war mas
ter watched for salute and listened
for challenge, but there was neither
along the lane of the guard. Then,
perhaps, it was a shadow of one of
the iron eagles that had been sweep
ing the sky for weeks? The war mas
ter listened for the whir of motor,
but none came to his ears. The eagles,
or most of them, were nesting on the
earth for the night, gorging them
selves with news of what they them
selves had accomplished from their
heights.
And now, still without salute or chal-
lenge, the silent thing, less like 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 sheer, whether in word or
look, is the easiest fashion of covering
surprise-or alarm. The war master
did not rise.
One of the allies, l believe" he
said.
No" said the visitor in a dull
voice, SAY, rather. neutral"
Indeed" said the war master. "Is
not Corsica loyal to France?"
After a mans DEATH" said the
visitor, Ibis politics and fealties do
not change; they merely disappear"
Il am pleased to hear that, Herr"
IN. Bonaparte, if you will, or even
Mister. / 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.
Il wonder" he began, and then
ceased to speak.
you wonder" said the visitor, smil.
ing, whether l am not real l beg
to assure your majesty that l am not |
real. l understand, of course, the |
trend of your thoughts. 1t has oc.
CURED to you, as it would occur to |
most trained men under similar cir |
cumstances, that | might be some new |
output of the wizardry of war-an i'm |
palpable man, free to come and go |
among the tents of the enemy. | saw
the brief fash of annoyance when it
came into your mind that if there was
any such deviltry possible your gentle
men of the laboratories should have
discovered it first
Such" said the war master ar
rogantly, SIS our custom"
the few human things at which I still
may marvel" pursued the Corsican.
You revolved in your mind not only
that possibility, but dozen ways in
which the magic might be used. There
is nothing contra in the rules of war,
I believe"
The war master raised his brows in
mock modesty.
"A dozen ways!" he repeated. You
fatter!"
NO" said the Corsican, "at least
a dozen, perhaps score. l know.
should have thought of fifty"
With such talent" began the war
master, your total of successes"
Let me save your voice." inter
posed the Corsican blandly. You
would remind me that where l ended
in failure at that very spot you began
with success. But would remind you
hat any town is Waterloo where Wa
.erloo is found"
"a ghostly warning" said the war
master, laughing. He had risen as
f to end the interview. It was a
habit, and he did not realize his error
Until he saw the Corsican smiling at it.
mo, not warning" said the visi-
or. 1T was idle chatter, mere words.
But you see have the whole evening
or my errand. Perhaps expected a
more cordial meeting. / thought to
De formal, as people were long ago."
you were not famed for formality,"
the war master.
Il had no time for it." returned the
5orsican a bit sadly. But l have