"I was going to suggest it, but you seemed so weary that I hadn't the heart," said Lanstron.
"Just the thing—the mothers, wives, and sweethearts!" declared the vice-chief.
"I'm not a bit tired now!" Marta assured them brightly. "I'm fresh for the fight again."
"Another thing," added Lanstron, "we ought to have the backing of the corps and division commanders."
"Precisely," agreed the vice-chief. "We want to make sure of this thing. We'd look silly if the old premier ordered the army on and left us high and dry; and it would mean certain disaster. Shall I get them on the telephone?"
"Yes," said Lanstron.
It was long after midnight when the collaborative composition of that famous despatch was finished.
"Now I'm really tired, Lanny," said Marta as she arose from the table. "I can think only of prayers—joyful little prayers of thanks rising to the stars."
She slipped her arm through his. As they moved toward the door the chiefs of divisions, keeping to the etiquette that best expressed their soldierly respect, saluted her.
"If this were told, few would believe it; nor would they believe many other things in the inner history of armies which are forever held secret," thought the vice-chief.