To what point were they going to retreat? . . .
They who two weeks before were discussing in their garrisons the place
in Belgium where their adversaries were going to receive their death
blow and through what places their victorious troops would invade
Germany! . . .
Their admission of the change of tactics did not reveal the slightest
discouragement. An indefinite but firm hope was hovering triumphantly
above their vacillations. The Generalissimo was the only one who
possessed the secret of events. And Desnoyers approved with the blind
enthusiasm inspired by those in whom we have confidence. Joffre! . . .
That serious and calm leader would finally bring things out all right.
Nobody ought to doubt his ability; he was the kind of man who always
says the decisive word.
At daybreak Don Marcelo left the train. "Good luck to you!" And he
clasped the hands of the brave young fellows who were going to die,
perhaps in a very short time. Finding the road unexpectedly open, the
train started immediately and Desnoyers found himself alone in the
station. In normal times a branch road would have taken him on to
Villeblanche, but the service was now suspended for lack of a train
crew. The employees had been transferred to the lines crowded with the
war transportation.
In vain he sought, with most generous offers, a horse, a simple cart
drawn by any kind of old beast, in order to continue his trip.
Pages:
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311