he ill-humored air
of those left behind in the castle, and the sudden servility of this
plowman in uniform, made it very apparent. . . .

Some distance beyond the castle he saw soldiers, many soldiers. A
battalion of infantry had spread itself along the walls with trucks,
draught horses and swift mounts. With their pikes the soldiers were
making small openings in the mud walls, shaping them into a border of
little pinnacles. Others were kneeling or sitting near the apertures,
taking off their knapsacks in order that they might be less hampered.
Afar off the cannon were booming, and in the intervals between their
detonations could be heard the bursting of shrapnel, the bubbling of
frying oil, the grinding of a coffee-mill, and the incessant crackling
of rifle-fire. Fleecy clouds were floating over the fields, giving to
near objects the indefinite lines of unreality. The sun was a faint spot
seen between curtains of mist. The trees were weeping fog moisture from
all the cracks in their bark.

A thunderclap rent the air so forcibly that it seemed very near the
castle. Desnoyers trembled, believing that he had received a blow in
the chest. The other men remained impassive with their customary
indifference. A cannon had just been discharged but a few feet away
from him, and not till then did he realize that two batteries had been
installed in the park. The pieces of artillery were hidden under mounds
of branches, the gunners having felled trees in order to mask their
monsters more perfectly. He saw them arranging the last; with shovels,
they were forming a border of earth, a foot in width, around each
piece. This border guarded the feet of the operators whose bodies were
protected by steel shields on both sides of them. Then they raised
a breastwork of trunks and boughs, leaving only the mouth of the
cylindrical mortar visible.

By degrees Don Marcelo became accustomed to the firing which seemed
to be creating a vacuum within his cranium. He ground his teeth and
clenched his fists at every detonation, but stood stock-still with no
desire to leave, dominated by the violence of the explosions, admiring
the serenity of these men who were giving orders, erect and coolly, or
moving like humble menials around their roaring metal beasts.

All his ideas seemed to have been snatched away by that first discharge
of cannon. His brain was living in the present moment only. He turned
his eyes insistently toward the white and red bann