The short day was almost drawing to a close, when the remnant of the fifth attacking corps returned, baffled and disheartened. The sun had already disappeared behind a bank of purple cloud, through which gleamed bars of lurid gold low down upon the rounded hills. Overhead there was a shimmering haze of Indian red. It almost seemed as if the sky had caught the reflection of the blood-stained earth.
To the ears of the Turks came the distant sound of voices hoarsely cheering. The sound was of no great strength, for Skobeleff himself had been voiceless all day, and the remainder—a mere handful of black-faced, wild madmen—were dry and parched.
'They must be nearly worn out,' said Osman quietly, upon receiving the latest report. 'We will attack again, and take the redoubt before nightfall.'
Tefik merely acquiesced without comment, as was his wont, and turned away to give his orders with a close precision which inspired great confidence in his subordinates.
Presently he returned to where his chief was standing, not far removed from Theodore Trist, who was writing hard upon a gun-carriage.
'They want somebody to lead them,' said Tefik significantly. His contempt for the usual run of portly, comfortable Turkish line-officers was well known.
Trist looked up and saw that the commander was looking at his subordinate with calmly questioning eyes.
'I,' said the Englishman, closing his note-book as he came forward, 'will go for one.'
'And I, and I, and I!' came from all sides. Some were staff-officers, some civilians, some old men and some mere boys.
'An Englishman,' said Tefik, with the faintest suggestion of a smile, 'is too valuable to be refused! It would make all the difference.'