wall and thus determine the right turn, and Malcolm began to realize that the place had been recently mapped. Malcolm, following the shadow of the cloak, was struck by the expression which each flint flash revealed upon the lieutenant's face. For the lieutenant had a twinkle in his eye and a sardonic smile upon his lips, as though he was hugely enjoying this business.

Malcolm's ear caught the sound of firing each time they passed an observation slot, and it began to come to him that the cartridge-filled brush was burning gradually, thus acting as a time fuse on the bullets. In truth it sounded as though the clearing far back was being bitterly defended. He eyed the lieutenant with renewed respect. But for all that the lieutenant was not a known quantity to him. None of these scattered officers were. They seemed to be without nerves, impervious to all anxiety, able to subsist upon nothing. He had heard something of the officers of yesterday; how they had driven unwilling troops with a drawn pistol, how they had carried out the stupid orders which always led to slaughter against heavily fortified objectives. He had heard, too, that many an officer had been found with a bullet in his back. But that was yesterday, a yesterday a fifth of a century dead. A yesterday when prisoners had been shot to avoid giving them rations, when every slightest spark of gallantry had been swallowed in the barbaric lust of battle which had swept the Continent as madness might sweep through a pack of dogs.

It was not that the lieutenant was kind. He merely did not care. His men did not belong to a government but to himself; just as he belonged to them. It seemed that all men with nerves had died of them, leaving a strange corps of beings above such things as human weakness and death, men who had evolved for themselves a special art of living. Malcolm had no hopes for the mercies of the lieutenant; they did not exist. And he was thinking to himself, following that cape, that the race of fighting men, while laudable in many ways, had degenerated in others. Their love of battle was quite finished and bravery was a word. For what better evidence could he have than this fact of the lieutenant's running away from a force because it had field pieces?

A question annoyed Malcolm. They were outward bound from the last encampment. But had they any destination? What would they do for food?

Ahead a hazy blur of light became apparent. Weeds had choked the exit from the fortress, and the roof had fallen until it was necessary to crawl belly down on the rubble to get out.

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