" said Lanstron.

"Just the thing--the mothers, wives, and sweethearts!" declared the
vice-chief.

"I'm not a bit tired now!" Marta assured them brightly. "I'm fresh for
the fight again."

"Another thing," added Lanstron, "we ought to have the backing of the
corps and division commanders."

"Precisely," agreed the vice-chief. "We want to make sure of this thing.
We'd look silly if the old premier ordered the army on and left us high
and dry; and it would mean certain disaster. Shall I get them on the
telephone?"

"Yes," said Lanstron.

It was long after midnight when the collaborative composition of that
famous despatch was finished.

"Now I'm really tired, Lanny," said Marta as she arose from the table.
"I can think only of prayers--joyful little prayers of thanks rising to
the stars."

She slipped her arm through his. As they moved toward the door the
chiefs of divisions, keeping to the etiquette that best expressed their
soldierly respect, saluted her.

"If this were told, few would believe it; nor would they believe many
other things in the inner history of armies which are forever held
secret," thought the vice-chief.

Outside, the stars were twinkling to acknowledge those little prayers of
thanks, and the night was sweet and peaceful, while the army slept.

XLVII

THE PEACE OF WISDOM

The sea of people packed in the great square of the Brown capital made a
roar like the thunder of waves against a breakwater at sight of a white
spot on a background of gray stone, which was the head of an eminent
statesman.

"It looks as if our government would last the week out," the premier
chuckled as he returned to his colleagues at the cabinet table.

As yet only the brief bulletins whose publication in the newspapers had
aroused the public to a frenzy had been received. The cabinet, as eager
for details as the press, had remained up, awaiting a fuller official
account.

"We have a long communication in preparation," the staff had
telegraphed. "Meanwhile, the following is submitted."

"Good Heavens! It's not from the army! It's from the grave!" exclaimed
the premier as he read the first paragraphs of Partow's message. "Of all
the concealed dynamite ever!" he gasped as he grasped the full meaning
of the document, that piece of news, as staggering as the victory
itself, that had lain in the staff vaults for years. "Well, we needn't
give it out to the press; at least, not until after mature
conside