Half-past three. The minutes seemed like eternity. Twenty-five minutes to four. Twenty minutes to four——
It was (I shall never forget it) at precisely thirteen minutes to four when the night was lighted by an immense brilliant blue light. A few seconds later the whole earth shook and a horrible explosion rent the air. Then silence.
It wasn’t long before the trumpets blew. The camp was all commotion. Commands were issued, confused with shouts. These, I made out, were joyful.
“The mine has been fired! The mine has been fired!” they repeated again and again.
The ranks formed. The regiments drew up in line of march. The officers galloped about. The flags were unfurled.
At dawn the columns moved—fresh and eager, as if starting off for the first encounter.
The terrible pass was traversed by the soldiers singing while the bayonets glistened in the rising sun. Two hours later we were safely outside the mountainous defile, and were joined by the main army.
The enemy was forced to give battle, and was defeated.
That evening they all feasted in the general’s tent. All the officers were happy. I alone was sad.
After a while they began to ask, Who could have blown up the mine? Some one said: