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.
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