Evening star., 1936-11-22

bullets. Levellingo at the last possible instant,
Amad shot the plane upward and banked to
come back. But the job was done. The bomber
In flames, hung poised for a moment then
plunged like plummet toward the far away
earth.
Mary stared down and back, fascinated
Horror was losing its power to shock Size
was merely conscious of watching a spectacle
and soon it seemed as if Amad were intent
only on providing show. He flew lower and
lower, zigzagging deliberately to pass over
villages and towns. People no longer looked
like ants. Mary could see them tell what they
were doing. They were like actors in play -
sometimes costume play. Monks in white,
forty or fifty of them, lining up against wall.
The setting was perfect: monastery, chapel
and the little graveyard. A seething mob ges-
ticulated amid the tombstones; the monks,
throwing up their hands or kneeling in prayer.
Spurts of fame. Death. All the monks falling
and lying still, like - like Miss Kate! A play
the end of the play, only the curtain didn't
come down.
Amad would have liked to have taken
hand, but could not; the buildings were too
close. the neighboring trees too high. He
cruised on flying low over fair-sized town.
Here another act of the endless, ghastly spec
tacle was in full swing Barricades. Women,
young girls under arms. Incredible. Fantastic.
People killing each other slaughtering. giving
no quarter, glad to kill and ready to die. A
play, it couldn't be anything else - couldn't
possibly.
Up and away. A field, an enclosure outlined
with barbed wire, guards loafng at the cor
ners of the rectangle. Within, children, moth
ing but children, hundreds of them Amad
swooped downward and circled close. Chill
dren of the Loyalists! He zoomed, banked and
swept low across the concentration camp
hail of bullets streaming before him. White.
upturned faces with tiny black dots for open
mouths He turned and went back. Childrens
faces, blank with terror. Childrens screams,
50 shrill they cut through the din of the motor.
Children running. tumbling, gathering in
terrified knots = knots that flattened out in
death. Mary felt sick. All her body went sick
- heart, lungs and stomach. She slumped to
the floor in shuddering heap.
Darkness was falling as Amad set the plane
down at Burgos. He glanced at Marys inert
body, shrugged and went to make his report.
Presently squad ran out at the double quick.
Two men climbed into the cockpit to toss
Mary out; Others caught her and handled her
roughly. She looked at their angry faces out of
dazed eyes, They hustled her. half dragged her
along, threw her into truck and clambered
in beside her.
The truck started off toward the city and
drew up in front of a grim low building whose
windows were heavily barred. Mary was lifted
out and dragged within.
"A titbit for you, Sergeant" she heard the
corporal explain. Espionage; caught red
handed at the border"
A moment later she was thrust into cell
like room and the door was slammed and
locked behind her. The cell was totally bare
save for a wooden bench fixed into one wall.
There was another door at the side provided
with a Judas only three inches wide and four
high. Through it she peered into second
room, the replica of the one in which she
stood. She turned and looked up at the single
window, small and far out of reach The tiny
patch of light was fast fading and by its last
glimmer she crossed to the bench and sat
down. Darkness was all about her and in her
soul.
Bruised but exhausted. Mary could have
fallen asleep on the hard bench had it not