“Wait a minute—I think your matter is on the wire,” Dabnitz said, drawing back to the telegraph.
“Yes,” he nodded, and a moment later handed Big Belt this message:
“My compliments to Mr. Boylan and assurances of excellent regard. I have found the favor he asks, however, altogether out of my power to grant.”
Boylan's jaw dropped; his mouth filled with saliva. Dabnitz said something, “...desperately sorry... couldn't possibly have ended another way.”
“Come, come—this won't do,” Big Belt muttered queerly. He was not answering Dabnitz, but commanding himself.... He swallowed again and turned:
“You will have charge of the affair?”
“Yes, doubtless. It will be very short—”
“I will wait for you below. Of course, I'll want to be there, you know—”
“I didn't know,” Dabnitz sighed.
Boylan was standing below. He heard distant firing through the rain in the direction of the field.... Lornievitch had doubtless begun a flank movement. Kohlvihr would lick his wounds in Judenbach for another day.