re pounding them along the whole frontier quite
impartially, so they shall not know where we are going to press home the
attack!" he continued.

"But they do know! I've told them!" shot the burning arrow of mockery
through Marta's brain.

"Their search-lights are watching for the infantry--and we shall press
the infantry forward, too," he added; "everywhere we make a show of
fight!"

Then it occurred vividly to her, as a sudden discovery in the midst of
the blinding display, that this was not a kind of chaos like that of the
beginning of the world, not nature's own elemental debauch, but men
firing guns and men waiting for the charge under that spray of
death-dealing missiles.

"Splendid! splendid!" he repeated.

Marta looked away from the range to his face, very distinct in the
garish illumination. It was the face of a maestro of war seeing all his
rehearsals and all his labors come true in symphonic gratification to
the eye and ear; the face of a man of trained mind, the product of
civilization, with the elation of a party leader on the floor of a
parliament in a crisis.

"Soon, now!" said Westerling, and looked at his watch.

Shortly, in the direction of Engadir, to the rear of the steady flashes
broke forth line after line of flashes as the long-range batteries,
which so far had been silent, joined their mightier voices to the
chorus, making a continuous leaping burst of explosions over the Brown
positions, which were the real object of the attack.

"The moment I've lived for!" exclaimed Westerling. "Our infantry is
starting up the apron of Engadir! We held back the fire of the heavy
guns concentrated for the purpose of supporting the men with an
outburst. Three hundred heavy guns pouring in their shells on a space of
two acres! We're tearing their redoubts to pieces! They can't see to
fire! They can't live under it! They're in the crater of a volcano! When
our infantry is on the edge of the wreckage the guns cease. Our infantry
crowd in--crowd into the house that Partow built. He'll find that
numbers count; that the power of modern gun-fire will open the way for
infantry in masses to take and hold vital tactical positions!
And--no--no, their fire in reply is not as strong as I expected."

"Because they are letting you in! It will be strong enough in due
season!" thought Marta in the uncontrollable triumph of antagonism. Five
against three was in his tone and in every line of his features.

"It's hard f