persisted the broken-hearted old man. It was necessary for
him to see his son's grave before dying himself, and Lacour had to
requisition all his powers, for four long months formulating requests
and overcoming much opposition, in order that Don Marcelo might be
permitted to make the trip.

Finally a military automobile came one morning for the entire Desnoyers
family. The senator could not accompany them. Rumors of an approaching
change in the cabinet were floating about, and he felt obliged to show
himself in the senate in case the Republic should again wish to avail
itself of his unappreciated services.

They passed the night in a provincial city where there was a military
post, and Rene collected considerable information from officers who had
witnessed the great combat. With his map before him, he followed the
explanations until he thought he could recognize the very plot of ground
which Julio's regiment had occupied.

The following morning they renewed their expedition. A soldier who
had taken part in the battle acted as their guide, seated beside the
chauffeur. From time to time, Rene consulted the map spread out on his
knees, and asked questions of the soldier whose regiment had fought
very close to that of Desnoyers', but he could not remember exactly the
ground which they had gone over so many months before. The landscape
had undergone many transformations and had presented a very different
appearance when covered with men. Its deserted aspect bewildered him
. . . and the motor had to go very slowly, veering to the north of the
line of graves, following the central highway, level and white, entering
crossroads and winding through ditches muddied with deep pools through
which they splashed with great bounds and jar on the springs. At times,
they drove across fields from one plot of crosses to another, their
pneumatic tires crushing flat from the furrows opened by the plowman.

Tombs . . . tombs on all sides! The white locusts of death were swarming
over the entire countryside. There was no corner free from their
quivering wings. The recently plowed earth, the yellowing roads, the
dark woodland, everything was pulsating in weariless undulation. The
soil seemed to be clamoring, and its words were the vibrations of the
restless little flags. And the thousands of cries, endlessly repeated
across the days and nights, were intoning in rhythmic chant the terrible
onslaught which this earth had witnessed and from wh