the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第81节

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　its　mysterious　life。　　The　bland　Chief　was　no　longer　occupied　with　his　guests。　　They　conjectured　that　he　was　behind　them；　his　mouth　at　the　telephone；　conversing　with　various　officials　some　distance　off。　　Yet　the　urbane　and　well…spoken　hero　was　not　abandoning　for　one　moment　his　candied　courtesy。

〃Will　you　be　kind　enough　to　tell　me　when　you　are　ready　to　begin？〃　they　heard　him　saying　to　a　distant　officer。　　〃I　shall　be　much　pleased　to　transmit　the　order。〃

Don　Marcelo　felt　a　slight　nervous　tremor　near　one　of　his　legs；　it　was　Lecour；　on　the　qui　vive　over　the　approaching　novelty。　　They　were　going　to　begin　firing；　something　was　going　to　happen　that　he　had　never　seen　before。　　The　cannons　were　above　their　heads；　the　roughly　vaulted　roof　was　going　to　tremble　like　the　deck　of　a　ship　when　they　shot　over　it。　　The　room　with　its　acoustic　tubes　and　its　vibrations　from　the　telephones　was　like　the　bridge　of　a　vessel　at　the　moment　of　clearing　for　action。　　The　noise　that　it　was　going　to　make！　。　。　。　　A　few　seconds　flitted　by　that　to　them　seemed　unusually　long　。　。　。　and　then　suddenly　a　sound　like　a　distant　peal　of　thunder　which　appeared　to　come　from　the　clouds。　　Desnoyers　no　longer　felt　the　nervous　twitter　against　his　knee。　　The　senator　seemed　surprised；　his　expression　seemed　to　say；　〃And　is　that　all？　。　。　。　　The　heaps　of　earth　above　them　had　deadened　the　report；　so　that　the　discharge　of　the　great　machine　seemed　no　more　than　the　blow　of　a　club　upon　a　mattress。　　Far　more　impressive　was　the　scream　of　the　projectile　sounding　at　a　great　height　but　displacing　the　air　with　such　violence　that　its　waves　reached　even　to　the　window。

It　went　flying　。　。　。　flying；　its　roar　lessening。　　Some　time　passed　before　they　noticed　its　effects；　and　the　two　friends　began　to　believe　that　it　must　have　been　lost　in　space。　　〃It　will　not　strike　。　。　。　it　will　not　strike；〃　they　were　thinking。　　Suddenly　there　surged　up　on　the　horizon；　exactly　in　the　spot　indicated　over　the　blur　of　the　woods；　a　tremendous　column　of　smoke；　a　whirling　tower　of　black　vapor　followed　by　a　volcanic　explosion。

〃How　dreadful　it　must　be　to　be　there！〃　said　the　senator。

He　and　Desnoyers　were　experiencing　a　sensation　of　animal　joy；　a　selfish　hilarity　in　seeing　themselves　in　such　a　safe　place　several　yards　underground。

〃The　Germans　are　going　to　reply　at　any　moment；〃　said　Don　Marcelo　to　his　friend。

The　senator　was　of　the　same　opinion。　　Undoubtedly　they　would　retaliate；　carrying　on　an　artillery　duel。

All　of　the　French　batteries　had　opened　fire。　　The　mountain　was　thundering；　the　shell　whining；　the　horizon；　still　tranquil；　was　bristling　with　black；　spiral　columns。　　The　two　realized　more　and　more　how　snug　they　were　in　this　retreat；　like　a　box　at　the　theatre。

Someone　touched　Lacour　on　the　shoulder。　　It　was　one　of　the　captains　who　was　conducting　them　through　the　front。

〃We　are　going　above；〃　he　said　simply。　　〃You　must　see　close　by　how　our　cannons　are　working。　　The　sight　will　be　well　worth　the　trouble。〃

Above？　。　。　。　　The　illustrious　man　was　as　perplexed；　as　astonished　as　though　he　had　suggested　an　interplanetary　trip。　　Above；　when　the　enemy　was　going　to　reply　from　one　minute　to　another？　。　。　。

The　captain　explained　that　sub…Lieutenant　Lacour　was　perhaps　awaiting　his　father。　　By　telephone　they　had　advised　his　battery　stationed　a　little　further　on；　it　would　be　necessary　to　go　now　in　order　to　see　him。　　So　they　again　climbed　up　to　the　light　through　the　mouth　of　the　tunnel。　　The　senator　then　drew　himself　up；　majestically　erect。

〃They　are　going　to　fire　at　us；〃　said　a　voice　in　his　interior；　〃The　foe　is　going　to　reply。〃

But　he　adjusted　his　coat　like　a　tragic　mantle　and　advanced　at　a　circumspect　and　solemn　pace。　　If　those　military　men；　adversaries　of　parliamentarism；　fancied　that　they　were　going　to　laugh　up　their　sleeve　at　the　timidity　of　a　civilian；　he　would　show　them　their　mistake！

Desnoyers　could　not　but　admire　the　resolution　with　which　the　great　man　made　his　exit　from　the　shelter；　exactly　as　if　he　were　going　to　march　against　the　foe。

At　a　little　distance；　the　atmosphere　was　rent　into　tumultuous　waves；　making　their　legs　tremble；　their　ears　hum；　and　their　necks　feel　as　though　they　had　just　been　struck。　　They　both　thought　that　the　Germans　had　begun　to　return　the　fire；　but　it　was　the　French　who　were　shooting。　　A　feathery　stream　of　vapor　came　up　out　of　the　woods　a　dozen　yards　away；　dissolving　instantly。　　One　of　the　largest　pieces；　hidden　in　the　nearby　thicket；　had　just　been　discharged。　　The　captains　continued　their　explanations　without　stopping　their　journey。　　It　was　necessary　to　pass　directly　in　front　of　the　spitting　monster；　in　spite　of　the　violence　of　its　reports；　so　as　not　to　venture　out　into　the　open　woods　near　the　watch　tower。　　They　were　expecting　from　one　second　to　another　now；　the　response　from　their　neighbors　across　the　way。　　The　guide　accompanying　Don　Marcelo　congratulated　him　on　the　fearlessness　with　which　he　was　enduring　the　cannonading。

〃My　friend　is　well　acquainted　with　it；〃　remarked　the　senator　proudly。　　〃He　was　in　the　battle　of　the　Marne。〃

The　two　soldiers　evidently　thought　this　very　strange；　considering　Desnoyers'　advanced　age。　　To　what　section　had　he　belonged？　　In　what　capacity　had　he　served？　。　。　。

〃Merely　as　a　victim；〃　was　the　modest　reply。

An　officer　came　running　toward　them　from　the　tower　side；　across　the　cleared　space。　　He　waved　his　kepi　several　times　that　they　might　see　him　better。　　Lacour　trembled　for　him。　　The　enemy　might　descry　him；　he　was　simply　making　a　target　of　himself　by　cutting　across　that　open　space　in　order　to　reach　them　the　sooner。　。　。　。　　And　he　trembled　still　more　as　he　came　nearer。　。　。　。　　It　was　Rene！

His　hands　returned　with　some　astonishment　the　strong；　muscular　grasp。　　He　noticed　that　the　outlines　of　his　son's　face　were　more　pronounced；　and　darkened　with　the　tan　of　camp　life。　　An　air　of　resolution；　of　confidence　in　his　own　powers；　appeared　to　emanate　from　his　person。　　Six　months　of　intense　life　had　transformed　him。　He　was　the　same　but　broader…chested　and　more　stalwart。　　The　gentle　and　sweet　features　of　his　mother　were　lost　under　the　virile　mask。　。　。　。　Lacour　recognized　with　pride　that　he　now　resembled　himself。

After　greetings　had　been　exchanged；　Rene　paid　more　attention　to　Don　Marcelo　than　to　his　father；　because　he　reminded　him　of　Chichi。　　He　inquired　after　her；　wishing　to　know　all　the　details　of　her　life；　in　spite　of　their　ardent　and　constant　correspondence。

The　senator；　meanwhile；　still　under　the　influence　of　his　recent　emotion；　had　adopted　a　somewhat　oratorical　air　toward　his　son。　　He　forthwith　improvised　a　fragment　of　discourse　in　honor　of　that　soldier　of　the　Republic　bearing　the　glorious　name　of　Lacour；　deeming　this　an　opportune　time　to　make　known　to　these　professional　soldiers　the　lofty　lineage　of　his　family。

〃Do　your　duty；　my　son。　　The　Lacours　inherit　warrior　traditions。　Remember　our　ancestor；　the　Deputy　of　the　Convention　who　covered　himself　with　glory　in　the　defense　of　Mayence！〃

While　he　was　discoursing；　they　had　started　forward；　doubling　a　point　of　the　greenwood　in　order　to　get　behind　the　cannons。

Here　the　racket　was　less　violent。　　The　great　engines；　after　each　discharge；　were　letting　escape　through　the　rear　chambers　little　clouds　of　smoke　like　those　from　a　pipe。　　The　sergeants　were　dictating　numbers；　communicated　in　a　low　voice　by　another　gunner　who　had　a　telephone　receiver　at　his　ear。　　The　workmen　around　the　cannon　were　obeying　silently。　　They　would　touch　a　little　wheel　and　the　monster　would　raise　its　grey　snout；　moving　it　from　side　to　side　with　the　intelligent　expression　and　agility　of　an　elephant's　trunk。　　At　the　foot　of　the　nearest　piece；　stood　the　operator；　rod　in　hand；　and　with　impassive　face。　　He　must　be　deaf；　yet　his　facial　inertia　was　stamped　with　a　certain　authority。　　For　him；　life　was　no　more　than　a　series　of　shots　and　detonations。　　He　knew　his　importance。　　He　was　the　servant　of　the　tempest；　the　guardian　of　the　thunderbolt。

〃Fire！〃　shouted　the　sergeant。

And　the　thunder　broke　forth　in　fury。　　Everything　appeared　to　be　trembling；　but　the　two　visitors　were　by　this　time　so　accustomed　to　the　din　that　the　present　uproar　seemed　but　a　secondary　affair。

Lacour　was　about　to　take　up　the　thread　of　his　discourse　about　his　glorious　forefather　in　the　convention　when　something　interfered。

〃They　are　firing；〃　said　the　man　at　the　telephone　simply。

The　two　officers　repeated　to　the　senator　this　news　from　the　watch　tower。　　Had　he　not　said　that　the　enemy　was　going　to　fire？　。　。　。　Obeying　a　sane　instinct　of　preservation；　and　pushed　at　the　same　time　by　his　son；　he　found　himself　in　the　refuge　of　the　battery。　　He　certainly　did　not　wish　to　hide　himself　in　this　cave；　so　he　remained　near　the　entrance；　with　a　curiosity　which　got　the　best　of　his　disquietude。

He　felt　the　approach　of　the　invisible　projectile；　in　spite　of　the　roar　of　the　neighboring　cannon。　　He　perceived　with　rare　sensibility　its　passage　through　the　air；　above　the　other　closer　and　more　powerful　sounds。　　It　was　a　squealing　howl　that　was　swelling　in　intensity；　that　was　opening　out　as　it　advanced；　filling　all　space。　Soon　it　ceased　to　be　a　shriek；　becoming　a　rude　roar　formed　by　divers　collisions　and　frictions；　like　the　descent　of　an　electric　tram　through　a　hillside