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110
CZECHOSLOVAK STORIES

No one of us had yet uttered a word. The Lieutenant in the greatest excitement still shouted and scrutinized one gun after another. Everyone was aimed in the direction of the enemy. We had ceased shooting and lay motionless. Deep emotion held back our breath. Schuster’s black, fiery eyes glistened in his red face and fairly snapped flames at all of the prostrate soldiers.

“Who was it?” he screamed again, turning his face in the direction where lay our army.

I arose and placed myself directly in front of him. He was frightened.

“We cannot leave the Major lying there!” I said in a very earnest voice, looking into his glittering eyes. “He may be only wounded! We must go to his aid!” I spoke rapidly, looking about in alarm and forgetting all military precepts.

He was somewhat startled, amazed that I spoke suddenly of something altogether different from what he had, in the first instant, expected, and the fire in his eyes died down. A visible embarrassment took possession of him and he only babbled something indistinct into the air. Someone laughed, and this little burst of merriment incensed him anew.

“We must carry him away!” I said with definiteness.

“Yes, yes,” he replied, absently. “We will carry him away, of course—we’ll carry him away!” And he gazed around.

Immediately, at his command, his corporal with four