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Voynich, E. L. (Ethel Lillian), 1864-1960

"The Gadfly"

He had become as thoroughly demoralized
as they were, and dared not look at the terrible
figure that stood, and stood, and would not fall.
When the Gadfly spoke to him he started and
shuddered at the sound of the mocking voice.
"You have brought out the awkward squad this
morning, colonel! Let me see if I can manage
them better. Now, men! Hold your tool higher
there, you to the left. Bless your heart, man, it's
a carbine you've got in your hand, not a frying-pan!
Are you all straight? Now then! Ready--present----"
"Fire!" the colonel interrupted, starting forward.
It was intolerable that this man should
give the command for his own death.
There was another confused, disorganized volley,
and the line broke up into a knot of shivering
figures, staring before them with wild eyes. One
of the soldiers had not even discharged his carbine;
he had flung it away, and crouched down, moaning
under his breath: "I can't--I can't!"
The smoke cleared slowly away, floating up into
the glimmer of the early sunlight; and they saw
that the Gadfly had fallen; and saw, too, that he
was still not dead.


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