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the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第102章

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〃I am going to…morrow!〃

The artist was very eager to accompany him。  Would it not be possible for him to go; too; as secretary to the senator? 。 。 。  Don Marcelo smiled benevolently。  The authorization was only for Lacour and one companion。  He was the one who was going to pose as secretary; valet or utility man to his future relative…in…law。

At the end of the afternoon; he left the studio; accompanied to the elevator by the lamentations of Argensola。  To think that he could not join that expedition! 。 。 。  He believed that he had lost the opportunity to paint his masterpiece。

Just outside of his home; he met Tchernoff。  Don Marcelo was in high good humor。  The certainty that he was soon going to see his son filled him with boyish good spirits。  He almost embraced the Russian in spite of his slovenly aspect; his tragic beard and his enormous hat which made every one turn to look after him。

At the end of the avenue; the Arc de Triomphe stood forth against a sky crimsoned by the sunset。  A red cloud was floating around the monument; reflected on its whiteness with purpling palpitations。

Desnoyers recalled the four horsemen; and all that Argensola had told him before presenting him to the Russian。

〃Blood!〃 shouted jubilantly。  〃All the sky seems to be blood…red。 。 。 。 It is the apocalyptic beast who has received his death…wound。 Soon we shall see him die。〃

Tchernoff smiled; too; but his was a melancholy smile。

〃No; the beast does not die。  It is the eternal companion of man。 It hides; spouting blood; forty 。 。 。 sixty 。 。 。 a hundred years; but eventually it reappears。  All that we can hope is that its wound may be long and deep; that it may remain hidden so long that the generation that now remembers it may never see it again。〃



CHAPTER III

WAR


Don Marcelo was climbing up a mountain covered with woods。

The forest presented a tragic desolation。  A silent tempest had installed itself therein; placing everything in violent unnatural positions。  Not a single tree still preserved its upright form and abundant foliage as in the days of peace。  The groups of pines recalled the columns of ruined temples。  Some were still standing erect; but without their crowns; like shafts that might have lost their capitals; others were pierced like the mouthpiece of a flute; or like pillars struck by a thunderbolt。  Some had splintery threads hanging around their cuts like used toothpicks。

A sinister force of destruction had been raging among these beeches; spruce and oaks。  Great tangles of their cut boughs were cluttering the ground; as though a band of gigantic woodcutters had just passed by。  The trunks had been severed a little distance from the ground with a clean and glistening stroke; as though with a single blow of the axe。  Around the disinterred roots were quantities of stones mixed with sod; stones that had been sleeping in the recesses of the earth and had been brought to the surface by explosions。

At intervalsgleaming among the trees or blocking the roadway with an importunity which required some zigzaggingwas a series of pools; all alike; of regular geometrical circles。  To Desnoyers; they seemed like sunken basins for the use of the invisible Titans who had been hewing the forest。  Their great depth extended to their very edges。  A swimmer might dive into these lagoons without ever touching bottom。  Their water was greenish; still waterrain water with a scum of vegetation perforated by the respiratory bubbles of the little organisms coming to life in its vitals。

Bordering the hilly pathway through the pines; were many mounds with crosses of woodtombs of French soldiers topped with little tricolored flags。  Upon these moss…covered graves were the old kepis of the gunners。  The ferocious wood…chopper; in destroying this woods; had also blindly demolished many of the ants swarming around the trunks。

Don Marcelo was wearing leggings; a broad hat; and on his shoulders; a fine poncho arranged like a shawlgarments which recalled his far…distant life on the ranch。  Behind him came Lacour trying to preserve his senatorial dignity in spite of his gasps and puffs of fatigue。  He also was wearing high boots and a soft hat; but he had kept to his solemn frock…coat in order not to abandon entirely his parliamentary uniform。  Before them marched two captains as guides。

They were on a mountain occupied by the French artillery; and were climbing to the top where were hidden cannons and cannons; forming a line some miles in length。  The German artillery had caused the woodland ruin around the visitors; in their return of the French fire。  The circular pools were the hollows dug by the German shells in the limy; non…porous soil which preserved all the runnels of rain。

The visiting party had left their automobile at the foot of the mountain。  One of the officers; a former artilleryman; explained this precaution to them。  It was necessary to climb this roadway very cautiously。  They were within reach of the enemy; and an automobile might attract the attention of their gunners。

〃A little fatiguing; this climb;〃 he continued。  〃Courage; Senator Lacour! 。 。 。  We are almost there。〃

They began to meet artillerymen; many of them not in uniform but wearing the military kepis。  They looked like workmen from a metal factory; foundrymen with jackets and pantaloons of corduroy。  Their arms were bare; and some had put on wooden shoes in order to get over the mud with greater security。  They were former iron laborers; mobilized into the artillery reserves。  Their sergeants had been factory overseers; and many of them officials; engineers and proprietors of big workshops。

Suddenly the excursionists stumbled upon the iron inmates of the woods。  When these spoke; the earth trembled; the air shuddered; and the native inhabitants of the forest; the crows; rabbits; butterflies and ants; fled in terrified flight; trying to hide themselves from the fearful convulsion which seemed to be bringing the world to an end。  Just at present; the bellowing monsters were silent; so that they came upon them unexpectedly。  Something was sticking up out of the greenery like a gray beam; at other times; this apparition would emerge from a conglomeration of dry trunks。 Around this obstacle was cleared ground occupied by men who lived; slept and worked about this huge manufactory on wheels。

The senator; who had written verse in his youth and composed oratorical poetry when dedicating various monuments in his district; saw in these solitary men on the mountain side; blackened by the sun and smoke; with naked breasts and bare arms; a species of priests dedicated to the service of a fatal divinity that was receiving from their hands offerings of enormous explosive capsules; hurling them forth in thunderclaps。

Hidden under the branches; in order to escape the observation of the enemy's birdmen; the French cannon were scattered among the hills and hollows of the highland range。  In this herd of steel; there were enormous pieces with wheels reinforced by metal plates; somewhat like the farming engines which Desnoyers had used on his ranch for plowing。  Like smaller beasts; more agile and playful in their incessant yelping; the
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