the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第78部分

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ways　believed　that　Marguerite　had　passed　near　him　without　recognizing　him；　since　his　father　did　not　betray　her。

One　of　Don　Marcelo's　pet　occupations　was　to　make　his　son　tell　about　the　encounter　in　which　he　had　been　hurt。　　No　visitor　ever　came　to　see　the　sub…lieutenant　but　the　father　always　made　the　same　petition。

〃Tell　us　how　you　were　wounded。　。　。　。　　Explain　how　you　killed　that　German　captain。〃

Julio　tried　to　excuse　himself　with　visible　annoyance。　　He　was　already　surfeited　with　his　own　history。　　To　please　his　father；　he　had　related　the　facts　to　the　senator；　to　Argensola　and　to　Tchernoff　in　his　studio；　and　to　other　family　friends。　。　。　。　　He　simply　could　not　do　it　again。

So　the　father　began　the　narration　on　his　own　account；　giving　the　relief　and　details　of　the　deed　as　though　seen　with　his　own　eyes。　。　。　。

He　had　to　take　possession　of　the　ruins　of　a　sugar　refinery　in　front　of　the　trench。　　The　Germans　had　been　expelled　by　the　French　cannon。　A　reconnoitring　survey　under　the　charge　of　a　trusty　man　was　then　necessary。　　And　the　heads；　as　usual；　had　selected　Sergeant　Desnoyers。

At　daybreak；　the　platoon　had　advanced　stealthily　without　encountering　any　difficulty。　　The　soldiers　scattered　among　the　ruins。　　Julio　then　went　on　alone；　examining　the　positions　of　the　enemy；　on　turning　around　a　corner　of　the　wall；　he　had　the　most　unexpected　of　encounters。　　A　German　captain　was　standing　in　front　of　him。　　They　had　almost　bumped　into　each　other。　　They　looked　into　each　other's　eyes　with　more　suspense　than　hate；　yet　at　the　same　time；　they　were　trying　instinctively　to　kill　each　other；　each　one　trying　to　get　the　advantage　by　his　swiftness。　　The　captain　had　dropped　the　map　that　he　was　carrying。　　His　right　hand　sought　his　revolver；　trying　to　draw　it　from　its　case　without　once　taking　his　eyes　off　his　enemy。　　Then　he　had　to　give　this　up　as　uselessit　was　too　late。　With　his　eyes　distended　by　the　proximity　of　death；　he　kept　his　gaze　fixed　upon　the　Frenchman　who　had　raised　his　gun　to　his　face。　　A　shot；　from　a　barrel　almost　touching　him　。　。　。　and　the　German　fell　dead。

Not　till　then　did　the　victor　notice　the　captain's　orderly　who　was　but　a　few　steps　behind。　　He　shot　Desnoyers；　wounding　him　in　the　shoulder。　　The　French　hurried　to　the　spot；　killing　the　corporal。　Then　there　was　a　sharp　cross…fire　with　the　enemy's　company　which　had　halted　a　little　ways　off　while　their　commander　was　exploring　the　ground。　　Julio；　in　spite　of　his　wound；　continued　at　the　head　of　his　section；　defending　the　factory　against　superior　forces　until　supports　arrived；　and　the　land　remained　definitely　in　the　power　of　the　French。

〃Wasn't　that　about　the　way　of　it？〃　Don　Marcelo　would　always　wind　up。

The　son　assented；　desirous　that　his　annoyance　with　the　persistent　story　should　come　to　an　end　as　soon　as　possible。　　Yes；　that　was　the　way　of　it。　　But　what　the　father　didn't　know；　what　Julio　would　never　tell；　was　the　discovery　that　he　had　made　after　killing　the　captain。

The　two　men；　during　the　interminable　second　in　which　they　had　confronted　each　other；　had　showed　in　their　eyes　something　more　than　the　surprise　of　an　encounter；　and　the　wish　to　overcome　the　other。　Desnoyers　knew　that　man。　　The　captain　knew　him；　too。　　He　guessed　it　from　his　expression。　。　。　。　　But　self…preservation　was　more　insistent　than　recollection　and　prevented　them　both　from　co…ordinating　their　thoughts。

Desnoyers　had　fired　with　the　certainty　that　he　was　killing　someone　that　he　knew。　　Afterwards；　while　directing　the　defense　of　the　position　and　guarding　against　the　approach　of　reinforcements；　he　had　a　suspicion　that　the　enemy　whose　corpse　was　lying　a　few　feet　away　might　possibly　be　a　member　of　the　von　Hartrott　family。　　No；　he　looked　much　older　than　his　cousins；　yet　younger　than　his　Uncle　Karl　who　at　his　age；　would　be　no　mere　captain　of　infantry。

When；　weakened　by　the　loss　of　blood；　they　were　about　to　carry　him　to　the　trenches；　the　sergeant　expressed　a　wish　to　see　again　the　body　of　his　victim。　　His　doubt　continued　before　the　face　blanched　by　death。　The　wide…open　eyes　still　seemed　to　retain　their　startled　expression。　The　man　had　undoubtedly　recognized　him。　　His　face　was　familiar。　　Who　was　he？　。　。　。　　Suddenly　in　his　mind's　eye；　Julio　saw　the　heaving　ocean；　a　great　steamer；　a　tall；　blonde　woman　looking　at　him　with　half…closed　eyes　of　invitation；　a　corpulent；　moustached　man　making　speeches　in　the　style　of　the　Kaiser。　　〃Rest　in　peace；　Captain　Erckmann！〃　。　。　。　　Thus　culminated　in　a　corner　of　France　the　discussions　started　at　table　in　mid…ocean。

He　excused　himself　mentally　as　though　he　were　in　the　presence　of　the　sweet　Bertha。　　He　had　had　to　kill；　in　order　not　to　be　killed。　　Such　is　war。　　He　tried　to　console　himself　by　thinking　that　Erckmann；　perhaps；　had　failed　to　identify　him；　without　realizing　that　his　slayer　was　the　shipmate　of　the　summer。　。　。　。　　And　he　kept　carefully　hidden　in　the　depths　of　his　memory　this　encounter　arranged　by　Fate。　He　did　not　even　tell　Argensola　who　knew　of　the　incidents　of　the　trans…atlantic　passage。

When　he　least　expected　it；　Don　Marcelo　found　himself　at　the　end　of　that　delightful　and　proud　existence　which　his　son's　presence　had　brought　him。　　The　fortnight　had　flown　by　so　swiftly！　　The　sub…　lieutenant　had　returned　to　his　post；　and　all　the　family；　after　this　period　of　reality；　had　had　to　fall　back　on　the　fond　illusions　of　hope；　watching　again　for　the　arrival　of　his　letters；　making　conjectures　about　the　silence　of　the　absent　one；　sending　him　packet　after　packet　of　everything　that　the　market　was　offering　for　the　soldieryfor　the　most　part；　useless　and　absurd　things。

The　mother　became　very　despondent。　　Julio's　visit　home　but　made　her　feel　his　absence　with　greater　intensity。　　Seeing　him；　hearing　those　tales　of　death　that　her　husband　was　so　fond　of　repeating；　made　her　realize　all　the　more　clearly　the　dangers　constantly　surrounding　her　son。　　Fatality　appeared　to　be　warning　her　with　funereal　presentiments。

〃They　are　going　to　kill　him；〃　she　kept　saying　to　Desnoyers。　　〃That　wound　was　a　forewarning　from　heaven。〃

When　passing　through　the　streets；　she　trembled　with　emotion　at　sight　of　the　invalid　soldiers。　　The　convalescents　of　energetic　appearance；　filled　her　with　the　greatest　pity。　　They　made　her　think　of　a　certain　trip　with　her　husband　to　San　Sebastian　where　a　bull　fight　had　made　her　cry　out　with　indignation　and　compassion；　pitying　the　fate　of　the　poor；　gored　horses。　　With　entrails　hanging；　they　were　taken　to　the　corrals；　and　submitted　to　a　hurried　adjustment　in　order　that　they　might　return　to　the　arena　stimulated　by　a　false　energy。　　Again　and　again　they　were　reduced　to　this　makeshift　cobbling　until　finally　a　fatal　goring　finished　them。　。　。　。　　These　recently　cured　men　continually　brought　to　her　mind　those　poor　beasts。　　Some　had　been　wounded　three　times　since　the　beginning　of　the　war；　and　were　returning　surgically　patched　together　and　re…galvanized　to　take　another　chance　in　the　lottery　of　Fate；　always　in　the　expectation　of　the　supreme　blow。　。　。　。　　Ay；　her　son！

Desnoyers　waxed　very　indignant　over　his　wife's　low　spirits；　retorting：

〃But　I　tell　you　that　Nobody　will　kill　Julio！　。　。　。　　He　is　my　son。　In　my　youth　I；　too；　passed　through　great　dangers。　　They　wounded　me；　too；　in　the　wars　in　the　other　world；　and　nevertheless；　here　I　am　at　a　ripe　old　age。〃

Events　seemed　to　reinforce　his　blind　faith。　　Calamities　were　raining　around　the　family　and　saddening　his　relatives；　yet　not　one　grazed　the　intrepid　sub…lieutenant　who　was　persisting　in　his　daring　deeds　with　the　heroic　nerve　of　a　musketeer。

Dona　Luisa　received　a　letter　from　Germany。　　Her　sister　wrote　from　Berlin；　transmitting　her　letters　through　the　kindness　of　a　South　American　in　Switzerland。　　This　time；　the　good　lady　wept　for　some　one　besides　her　son；　she　wept　for　Elena　and　the　enemies。　　In　Germany　there　were　mothers；　too；　and　she　put　the　sentiment　of　maternity　above　all　patriotic　differences。

Poor　Frau　von　Hartrott！　　Her　letter　written　a　month　before；　had　contained　nothing　but　death　notices　and　words　of　despair。　　Captain　Otto　was　dead。　　Dead；　too；　was　one　of　his　younger　brothers。　　The　fact　that　the　latter　had　fallen　in　a　territory　dominated　by　their　nation；　at　least　gave　the　mother　the　sad　comfort　of　being　able　to　weep　near　his　grave。　　But　the　Captain　was　buried　on　French　soil；　nobody　knew　where；　and　she　would　never　be　able　to　find　his　remains；　mingled　with　hundreds　of　others。　　A　third　son　was　wounded　in　Poland。　Her　two　daughters　had　lost　their　promised　lovers；　and　the　sight　of　their　silent　grief；　was　intensifying　the　mother's　suffering。　　Von　Hartrott　continued　presiding　over　patriotic　societies　and　making　plans　of　expansion　after　the　near　victory；　but　he　had　aged　greatly　in　the　last　few　months。　　The　〃sage〃　was　the　only　one　still　holding　his　own。　　The　family　afflictions　were　aggravating　the　ferocity　of　Professor　Julius　von　Hartrott。　　He　was　calculating；　in　a　book　he　was　writing；　the　hundreds　of　thousands　of　millions　that　Germany　must　exact　after　her　triumph；　and　the　various　nations　that　she　would　have　to　annex　to　the　Fatherland。

Dona　Luisa　imagined　that　in　the　avenue　Victor　Hugo；　she　could　hear　the　mother's　tears　falling　in　her　home　in　Berlin。　　〃You　will　understand；　Luisa；　my　despair。　。　。　。　　We　were　all　so　happy！　　May　God　punish　those　who　have　brought　such　sorrow　on　the　world！　　The　Emperor　is　innocent。　　His　adversaries　are　to　blame　for　it　all　。　。　。〃

Don　Marcelo　was　silent　about　the　letter　in　his　wife's　presence。　　He　pitied　Elena　for　her　losses；　so　he　overlooked　her　political　connections。　　He　was　touched；　too；　at　Dona　Luisa's　distress　about　Otto。　　She　had　been　his　godmother　and　Desnoyers　his　godfather。　　That　was　soDon　Marcelo　had　forgotten　all　about　it；　and　the　fact　recalled　to　his　mental　vision　the　placid　life　of　the　ranch；　and　the　play　of　the　blonde　children　that　he　had　petted　behind　their　grandfather's　back；　before　Julio　was　born。　　For　many　years；　he　had　lavished　great　affection　on　these　youngsters；　when　dismayed　at　Julio's　delayed　arrival。　　He　was　really　affected　at　thinking　of　what　must　be　Karl's　despair。

But　then；　as　soon　as　he　was　alone；　a　selfish　coldness　would　blot　out　this　compassion。　　War　was　war；　and　the　Germans　had　sought　it。　France　had　to　defend　herself；　and　the　more　enemies　fell　the　better。　。　。　。　　The　only　soldier　who