From the parlour the general ordered the movements of forty thousand men, playing their part, like a piece in a game of chess, in the plan of invasion of the Great Headquarters Staff. Vastly important were these movements; each corps must coördinate absolutely with every other. Confusion here might ruin the whole great plan.
The high-born general was very busy. But on the second day he deigned to notice Hans Schmidt, who had drawn back, his one arm raised in the salute, as the general passed him.
“Ach!” said the general. “You have lost an arm! An old soldier, nicht wahr?”
“Yes, my general. I left my arm at Gravelotte.”
“So! I was in that business, too. I got my company that day, when Steinmetz lost half his corps. Ach! This time we shall finish them even more quickly! Von Kluck is halfway through Belgium; the Crown Prince is hammering at Verdun! We shall be in Paris within the month!”
Hans Schmidt listened respectfully, as became him. The general went to his desk. Hans Schmidt, in his garden, looked at the western sky. Flying low, nearby, was an aeroplane, blunt, snub-nosed. He knew it for a Taube, though no monoplanes had circled over Gravelotte. It turned, and flew eastward, out of sight. Still he peered into the west. High in the air something flashed gold in the rays of the sun, shining upward from behind a cloud. Hans Schmidt went slowly into the kitchen.
There a hot, smokeless fire of hard coal burned to roast two suckling pigs for the dinner of the general and the high-born officers of the staff. He sent out a maid whose duty it was to watch the pigs. Hans Schmidt took a bag from his pocket, emptied it into the fire, added a pile of kindling wood. He went back into the garden. Thoughtfully he looked at the chimney, from which there rose suddenly a thick column of oily black smoke. Straight up it went, higher and higher.
“In Berlin you would be fined for that,” said a young staff officer, coming up beside him.
“The maids are careless,” answered the patriot.
The officer gaped at the smoke. Hans Schmidt looked to the west. Again he caught the gleam of the sun on metal. From the west a monoplane was coming, flying like a hawk. It took shape. A mile away a gun spoke; another, and another. Above, below the monoplane, hung three fleecy balls of white smoke, where shells had burst. Followed a volley. Other officers came from the house to stare upward. On came the monoplane.