"It vas not a bresentiment," he said. "It vas a bileattack. Zose shells, zeir schmell vas vorse zan Schwefelwasserstoffgas—I forget ze English name, but ze schmell is ze same; it is a schmell of eggs suberannuated. I suffer egstremely. Besides, zey haf shtole my bonies. And vat do I discover? I discover a damage in ze ubber egstremity of ze camera. Vy you tell me nozink about zis? I discover it, I say. Who done zat? Vy you bermit it? It is not business: it annoy me egstremely. I lose many dollars ven I shall gome to sell ze photographabbaratus. My gustomers vill now see it is not new. Venever I zink of it I suffer bile. I go not again to zis battle, no more does ze camera; I vait for ze next. I vill stay and cure ze bileattack. You shall see ze battle; I vill take notes ven you return."
Jack had no intention of running unnecessary risks in order that Schwab might make "copy" out of his experiences. But he made his way towards the railway-station, expecting to obtain from the embankment as good a view as was possible without venturing again on the shell-swept hills. His choice was fortunate, for it happened that the closest fighting of the day took place west of the railway. General Oku had made up his mind to force this, the weakest spot in the Russian position. While, therefore, General Nodzu in the centre was repeating the first day's bombardment, the Russian right, throughout the day, was the scene of as terrible a series of infantry attacks as the world's history has known. Time after time the Japanese advanced to storm the trenches; time after time they were mowed down by the pitiless bullets of the enemy; but again and again they returned to the charge, recking nothing of death or wounds, thinking it a privilege indeed to end their lives in their country's cause. On both sides the bayonet did its fell work; at one point a trench was captured by a company of Japanese, but their ammunition was spent, they were unsupported, and their plight being perceived from a Russian trench a hundred yards distant, they were bayoneted to a man. As the hot day wore on, the Russians were driven back against the railway embankment; streams of wounded, their cries of agony mingled with the horrid sounds of war, flowed incessantly towards Liao-yang; and when sunset put an end to the firing, the bearer-parties went about their awful work on the battle-field.
Except for the slight impression made on the right, the Russian position was intact. The Siberian regiments had held their own with splendid tenacity, and were almost recompensed for their terrible sufferings by the message of thanks from General Kuropatkin, who had witnessed their heroic resistance from his train beyond the railway-station. Jack started to return to Schwab with the impression that the force of the Japanese attack was broken, and that on the morrow the Russians would take the offensive. The day closed with a terrible rain-storm that turned the fields and roads into a quagmire. The streets of the city were thronged; soldiers, Chinamen, camp-followers, pedlars improving the occasion, all jostling one another in noisy confusion.
Standing at the door of his cottage, Schwab hailed an American correspondent who was passing just as Jack appeared.
"Is ze battle finished gomblete?" asked Schwab eagerly.
"Yes; the Russians have won. It is their first victory. I am on my way to telegraph the news to New York—if I can get a wire."
"Zen I vill write my account of ze closing scenes," said Schwab to Jack. "To-morrow, if ze sun shine, you can take more pictures of ze Japanese defeat."
But half an hour later the American looked into the house on his way back to his own quarters.
"I was mistaken, Schwab," he said; "it is not a victory after all."
"Eh?" said Schwab, looking up from his papers.