Still the plane came on intact over the spire.  The sharpshooters had only rimmed the target, without injury to braces or engine.  But they had another chance from the windows on the nearer side of the tower; and the crowd saw there the glint of rifle barrels.  This time they got the bull’s-eye.  The aviator reeled and dropped sidewise, a dead weight caught by the braces, with his arm dangling.  A teetering dip of the plane and his body was shaken free.  His face, as he neared the earth in his descent, bore the surprised look of a man thumped on the back unexpectedly.

Marta pressed her fingers to her ears, but not soon enough to keep out the sound of a thud on the roof of the building across the street from the chapel.

“I was a coward to do that!  I shall see worse things!” she thought, and went to the major, who had turned to the affairs of the living directly he saw that neither the corpse of the aviator nor the wreck of the plane was to strike in the street.  “I will look after these children,” she said, “and we will care for as many of the old and sick as we can in our house.”

“The children will find their relatives or guardians in the procession there,” he answered methodically.  “If they do not, the government will look after them.  It will not do for you to take them to your house.  That would only complicate the matter of their safety.”  Here he was interrupted by a precipitate question from one of his lieutenants, who had come running up.  “No!  No matter what the excuse, no one can remain!” he answered.  “The nation is not going to take the risk of letting spies get information to the enemy for the sake of gratifying individual interests.  Every one must go!” Then he called to an able-bodied citizen of thirty years or so in the procession:  “Here, you, if you’re not in the reserve I have work for you!”

“But I was excused from army service on account of heart trouble!” explained the able-bodied citizen.

“We all have heart trouble to-day,” remarked the major pithily.  “Men are giving up their lives in defence of you and your property.  Every man of your age must do his share when required.  Go with this orderly!” was the final and tart conclusion of the argument.  “And see that he is made useful,” he added to the orderly.

An explosion in the factory district made windows rattle and brought an hysterical outcry from some of the women.

“It’s nothing!” the major called, in the assurance of a shepherd to his sheep.  “Blowing up some building that furnish cover for the enemy’s approach in front of our infantry positions!  You will hear more of it.  Don’t worry!  Do as you’re told!  Keep moving!  Keep moving!”

Now he had time to conclude what he had to say to Marta.

“As your house will soon be under fire, it will be not refuge for the children; and, in any event, we should net want to leave them to the care of the Grays with the parents on our side,” he explained in a manner none the less final because of its politeness.  “Every detail has been systematically arranged under government supervision.  Private efforts will only bring confusion and hardship where we would have order and all possible mercy.  As for the old, the sick, and the infirm—­those who cannot bear being carried far are being moved to the hospital and barracks outside the town.”