ull.

"Not that! Not that! Your work is not yet done!" she cried.

He made a move as if to persist, then fell back with a gesture of
understanding.

"Right! Hold me to it!" he exclaimed resolutely. "Hold me to the
bargain! So a woman worth while should hold a man worth while."

"Yes!" she managed to say, and turned to go in a sudden impetus of
energy. His egoism might ascribe her precipitancy to a fear of
succumbing to the tenderness which he thought that she felt for him,
when her one wish was to be free of him; her one rallying and
tempestuous purpose of the moment to reach the telephone.

Mrs. Galland and Minna saw her ghostlike as she passed through the
living-room, their startled questions unheeded. Could it be true that
she had betrayed every decent attribute of a woman in vain? Why had the
counter-attack failed? Because Westerling had been too strong, too
clever, for old Partow? Because God was still with the heaviest
battalions? Half running, half stumbling, the light of the lantern
bobbing and trembling weirdly, she hastened through the tunnel. Usually
the time from taking the receiver down till Lanny replied was only a
half minute. Now she waited what seemed many minutes without response.
Had the connection been broken? To make sure that her impatience was not
tricking her she began to count off the seconds. Then she heard
Lanstron's voice, broken and hoarse:

"Marta, Marta, he is dead! Partow is dead!"

Recovering himself, Lanstron told the story of Partow's going, which was
in keeping with his life and his prayers. As the doctor put it, the
light of his mind, turned on full voltage to the last, went out without
a flicker. Through the day he had attended to the dispositions for
receiving the Grays' attack, enlivening routine as usual with flashes of
humor and reflection ranging beyond the details in hand. An hour or so
before dark he had reached across the table and laid his big, soft palm
on the back of Lanstron's hand. He was thinking aloud, a habit of his,
in Lanstron's company, when an idea requiring gestation came to him.

"My boy, it is not fatal if we lose the apron of Engadir. The defences
behind it are very strong."

"No, not fatal," Lanstron agreed. "But it's very important."

"And Westerling will think it fatal. Yes, I understand his character.
Yes--yes; and if our counter-attack should fail, then Miss Galland's
position would be secure. Hm-m-m--those whom the gods would
destroy--hm-m-m