Again something white fluttered in his sight. Ha! The
enemy was still on his front, then. He had feared a turning movement.
But apparently General Feraud was not thinking of it. General D'Hubert
saw him pass without special haste from one tree to another in the
straight line of approach. With great firmness of mind General D'Hubert
stayed his hand. Too far yet. He knew he was no marksman. His must be a
waiting game--to kill.
Wishing to take advantage of the greater thickness of the trunk, he sank
down to the ground. Extended at full length, head on to his enemy, he
had his person completely protected. Exposing himself would not do now,
because the other was too near by this time. A conviction that Feraud
would presently do something rash was like balm to General D'Hubert's
soul. But to keep his chin raised off the ground was irksome, and not
much use either. He peeped round, exposing a fraction of his head with
dread, but really with little risk. His enemy, as a matter of fact, did
not expect to see anything of him so far down as that.
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