"I don't see that we are after either death or glory," said Tom. "We are going to do our duty."
The impulse of enthusiasm seemed equally lacking in the others. Stransky grinned and his deep-set eyes turned inward with a squint of knowing satisfaction at the bony bridge of his nose.
"I'm not wanting any traitor to start any songs for me!" declared grandfather.
"Never mind. The fellows on the other side aren't any more enthusiastic than we are, grandfather," Stransky said soothingly, in his mocking way. "The fact is, we don't want to kill our brothers across the frontier and they don't want to kill us or be killed. It's only the ruling classes that want the proletariat to—"
"Fire away, Stransky! It's hours since you made a speech!" chirruped a voice.
"Look out, Bert, the sergeant's coming!" another voice warned the orator.
The state of mind of the 53d was that of all the regiments of the Browns with their faces toward the white posts, quiet, thoughtful, and grave; for they had not to arouse ardor for the aggressive. As they were to receive rather than give blows they might be more honest with themselves than the men of the Grays.
In marching order, with cartridge-boxes full, on Saturday night the 53d marched out to the main pass road. When Grandfather Fragini found that he had been ordered to remain behind he sought the colonel.
"I've got reasons! Let me come!" he pleaded.
"No. It is no place for you."