went to wars: for
those days were not as these days. They followed the direction that had
been given them, and never had the two men walked so fast. By the end
of four hours they had done sixteen miles. They halted then, and Morano
drew out his frying-pan with a haughty flourish, and cooked in the
grand manner, every movement he made was a triumphant gesture; for they
had passed refugees! War was now obviously close: they had but to take
the way that the refugees were not taking. The dream was true: Morano
saw himself walking slowly in splendid dress along the tapestried
corridors of his master's castle. He would have slept after eating and
would have dreamed more of this, but Rodriguez commanded him to put the
things together: so what remained of the food disappeared again in a
sack, the frying-pan was slung over his shoulders, and Morano stood
ready again for the road.

They passed more refugees: their haste was unmistakable, and told more
than their lips could have told had they tarried to speak: the wars
were near now, and the wanderers went leisurely.

As they strolled through the twilight they came over the brow of a
hill, a little fold of the earth disturbed eras ago by the awful
rushing up of the Pyrenees; and they saw the evening darkening over the
fields below them and a white mist rising only just clear of the grass,
and two level rows of tents greyish-white like the mist, with a few
more tents scattered near them. The tents had come up that evening with
the mist, for there were men still hammering pegs. They were lighting
fires now as evening settled in. Two hundred paces or so separated each
row. It was two armies facing each other.

The gloaming faded: mist and the tents grew greyer: camp-fires blinked
out of the dimness and grew redder and redder, and candles began to be
lit beside the tents till all were glowing pale golden: Rodriguez and
Morano stood there wondering awhile as they looked on the beautiful
aura that surrounds the horrors of war.

They came by starlight to that tented field, by twinkling starlight to
the place of Rodriguez' dream.

"For which side will you fight, master?" said Morano in his ear.

"For the right," said Rodriguez and strode on towards the nearest
tents, never doubting that he would be guided, though not trying to
comprehend how this could be.

They met with an officer going among his tents. "Where do you go?" he
shouted.

"Senor," Rodriguez said, "I come with my m