And then another voice in a bull roar, Stransky's:
"Avenge his death! They've got to kill the last man of us for killing him! Revenge! revenge!"
That cry brought back to the company all the fighting spirit of the cheery smile and with it another spirit—for Dellarme's sake!—which he had never taught them.
"Make them pay!"
"He was told to stay till noon!"
"They'll find us here at noon, alive or dead!"
Stransky picked up one of several cylindrical objects that were lying at his feet.
"He wouldn't use this—he was too soft-hearted—but I will!" he cried, and flung a hand-grenade, and then a second, over the breastwork. The explosions were followed by agonized groans from the Grays hugging the lower side of the terrace. For this they had crawled across the road in the night—to find themselves unable to move either way and directly under the flashes of the Browns' rifles.
Feller's and Stransky's shouts rose together in a peculiar unity of direction and full of the fellowship they had found in their first exchange of glances.
"You engineers, make ready!"