Finally, for humanity’s sake, her brother-in-law set her mind at rest regarding the fate of one of them, the Captain von Hartrott.  He was in perfect health at the beginning of the battle.  He knew that this was so from a friend who had conversed with him . . . and he did not wish to talk further about him.

Dona Luisa was spending a part of each day in the churches, trying to quiet her uneasiness with prayer.  These petitions were no longer vague and generous for the fate of millions of unknown men, for the victory of an entire people.  With maternal self-centredness they were focussed on one single person—­her son, who was a soldier like the others, and perhaps at this very moment was exposed to the greatest danger.  The tears that he had cost her! . . .  She had implored that he and his father might come to understand each other, and finally just as God was miraculously granting her supplication, Julio had taken himself off to the field of death.

Her entreaties never went alone to the throne of grace.  Someone was praying near her, formulating identical requests.  The tearful eyes of her sister were raised at the same time as hers to the figure of the crucified Savior.  “Lord, save my son!” . . .  When uttering these words, Dona Luisa always saw Julio as he looked in a pale photograph which he had sent his father from the trenches—­with kepis and military cloak, a gun in his right hand, and his face shadowed by a growing beard.  “O Lord have mercy upon us!” . . . and Dona Elena was at the same time contemplating a group of officers with helmets and reseda uniforms reinforced with leather pouches for the revolver, field glasses and maps, with sword-belt of the same material.

Oftentimes when Don Marcelo saw them setting forth together toward Saint Honore d’Eylau, he would wax very indignant.

“They are juggling with God. . . .  This is most unreasonable!  How could He grant such contrary petitions? . . .  Ah, these women!”

And then, with that superstition which danger awakens, he began to fear that his sister-in-law might cause some grave disaster to his son.  Divinity, fatigued with so many contradictory prayers was going to turn His back and not listen to any of them.  Why did not this fatal woman take herself off? . . .

He felt as exasperated at her presence in his home as he had at the beginning of hostilities.  Dona Luisa was still innocently repeating her sister’s statements, submitting them to the superior criticism of her husband.  In this way, Don Marcelo had learned that the victory of the Marne had never really happened; it was an invention of the allies.  The German generals had deemed it prudent to retire through profound strategic foresight, deferring till a little later the conquest of Paris, and the French had done nothing but follow them over the ground which they had left free.  That was all.  She knew the opinions of military men of neutral countries; she had been talking in Biarritz with some people of unusual intelligence; she knew what the German papers were saying about it.  Nobody over there believed that yarn about the Marne.  The people did not even know that there had been such a battle.