“But their dirigibles!  A surprising number of them are over our lines,” Bellini, the chief of intelligence, had the temerity to say.

“You will send our planes and dirigibles to bring down theirs!” Westerling commanded.

“I have—­every last one; but they outnumber us!” persisted Bellini.  “Even in retreat they can see.  The air has cleared so that considerable bodies of troops in motion will be readily discernible from high altitudes.  The reason for our failure last night was that they knew our plan of attack.”

“They knew!  They knew, after all our precautions!  There is still a leak!  You—­”

Westerling raised his clenched hand threateningly at the chief of intelligence, his cheeks purple with rage, his eyes bloodshot.  But Bellini, with his boyish, small face and round head set close to his shoulders, remained undisturbedly exact.

“Yes, there is a leak, and from the staff,” he answered.  “Until I have found it this army ought to suspend any aggressive—­”

“I was not asking advice!” interrupted Westerling.

“But, I repeat, the leak is not necessary to disclose this new movement that you plan.  Their air craft will disclose it,” Bellini concluded.  He had done his duty and had nothing more to say.

“Dirigibles do not win battles!” Westerling announced.  “They are won by getting infantry in possession of positions and holding them.  No matter if we don’t surprise the enemy.  Haven’t the Browns held their line with inferior numbers?  If they have, we can hold the rest of ours.  That gives us overwhelming forces at Engadir.”

“You take all responsibility?” asked Turcas.

“I do!” said Westerling firmly.  “And we will waste no more time.  The premier supports me.  I have decided.  We will set the troops in motion.”

With fierce energy he set to work detaching units of artillery and infantry from every part of the line and starting them toward Engadir.

“This means an improvised organization; it breaks up the machine,” said the tactical expert to Turcas when they were alone.

“Yes,” replied Turcas.  “He wanted no advice from us when he was taking counsel of desperation.  If he succeeds, success will retrieve all the rest of his errors.  We may have a stroke of luck in our favor.”

* * * * *

In the headquarters of the Browns, junior officers and clerks reported the words of each bulletin with the relief of men who breathed freely again.  The chiefs of divisions who were with Lanstron alternately sat down and paced the floor, their restlessness now that of a happiness too deeply thrilling to be expressed by hilarity.  Each fresh detail only confirmed the completeness of the repulse as that memorable night in the affairs of the two nations slowly wore on.  Shortly before three, when the firing had died down after the Brown pursuit had stopped, a wireless from a dirigible flying over the frontier came, telling of bodies of Gray troops and guns on the march.  Soon planes and other dirigibles flying over other positions were sending in word of the same tenor.  The chiefs drew around the table and looked into one another’s eyes in the significance of a common thought.