himself on his elbow and saw that the lettering of
the placard was "Coward!" Officers and soldiers and hospital-corps men
called attention to it as they passed. The sun was very hot and he was
growing feverish. Painfully he dragged himself to the shelter of a tree,
and then, looking around, saw that he was near the big house of the
terraced garden.

XXX

MARTA MEETS HUGO

The general staff-officer of the Grays, who had tasted Marta's temper on
his first call, when he returned the next morning did not enter
unannounced. He rang the door-bell.

"I have a message for you from General Westerling," he said to her. "The
general expresses his deep regret at the unavoidable damage to your
house and grounds and has directed that everything possible be done
immediately in the way of repairs."

In proof of this the officer called attention to a group of
service-corps men who were removing the sand-bags from the first
terrace. Others were at work in the garden setting uprooted plants back
into the earth.

"His Excellency says," continued the officer, "that, although the house
is so admirably suited for staff purposes, we will find another if you
desire."

He was too polite and too considerate in his attitude for Marta not to
meet him in the same spirit.

"That is what we should naturally prefer," and Marta bowed her head in
indecision.

"We should have to begin installing the telegraph and telephone service
on the lower floor at once," he remarked. "In fact, all arrangements
must be made before the general's arrival."

"He has been a guest here before," she said reminiscently and
detachedly.

Her head dropped lower, in apparent disregard of his presence, as she
took counsel with herself. She was perfectly still, without even the
movement of an eyelash. Other considerations than any he might suggest,
he subtly understood, held her attention. They were the criterion by
which she would at length assent or dissent, and nothing could hurry the
Marta of to-day, who yesterday had been a creature of feverish impulse.

It seemed a long time that he was watching that wonderful profile under
the very black hair, soft with the softness of flesh, yet firmly carved.
She lifted her head gradually, her eyes sweeping past the spot where
Dellarme had lain dying, where Feller had manned the automatic, where
Stransky had thrown Pilzer over the parapet. He saw the glance arrested
and focussed on the flag of the Grays, which wa