THE GAME OF BILLIARDS 31

the hubbub increases. To the shocks
of the cannon are joined the tearing
rattle of the mitrailleuses, the rolling
fire of the platoons. A red smoke,
black at the edges, rises up to the
slopes. All the park below is on fire.
The terrified peacocks and pheasants
scream in the aviary, the Arab horses,
smelling powder, stamp in the stables.
The _ headquarters begin to be in
commotion. Despatch after despatch,
the express couriers arrive at full tear.
They ask for the Marshal. The
Marshal is inaccessible. As I have
said, nothing can possibly hinder him
from finishing his game.

‘Your turn to play, captain.’

But the captain (what it is to be
young) has his moments of forgetful-
ness. Why, he has lost his head,
forgotten his tactics, and stroke after
stroke, twice over, almost wins the
game. This time the Marshal is
furious. Surprise and indignation
flame on his manly face. Just at that