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The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse: Paris

The vanquished lover said good-by to Love and Happiness, but this repulse gave him a new impetus to fill the vacuum of his empty existence. When Paris was threatened and refugees told of the wholesale sackings of their homes, Don Marcelo began to fear for his castle, and went to Villeblanche, arriving in time to witness the discouraged exhaustion of the French army's retreat. Closely following were the invading Germans shouting joyously, "Nach Paris!"

Villeblanche became the camping-ground for a regiment and its bewildered proprietor was subjected to innumerable indignities, saw his most choice possessions looted, and was the powerless witness to the murder of prominent civilians of the village. A young officer arrived who introduced himself as Captain Otto von Hartrott. He explained with true German callousness the ruin and plunder of his uncle's castle by saying to him, "It is war.... We have to be very ruthless that it may not last long. True kindness consists in being cruel, because then the terror-stricken enemy gives in sooner, and so the world suffers less."

For four days Don Marcelo lived through a period of stupefaction slashed by the most horrible visions. The village was reduced to a mass of ruins before his eyes, and his household suffered unspeakably from the bestiality of the carousing officers. A war hospital was established on the estate, but moved on under the stress of battle, though the banner of the Red Cross remained to deceive the French about the artillery which was installed in the park. When a French aeroplane discovered this piece of treachery, Don Marcelo found himself in the heart of a furious battle. The cannonading of the Germans and the bursting of French shells terrified him until at last he saw at the foot of the highway near his castle several of the attacking columns which had crossed the Marne. They rushed forward unmoved by the deadly fire of the Germans, and he realized his beloved French were driving back the Teuton horde. Only ruins of his once beautiful estate were now left him and he said farewell forever to Villeblanche. After his return to Paris a young soldier of the infantry called to see him. It was his son Julio, never so distinguished-looking as in this rough, ready-made uniform. Their reconciliation was complete.

With his son on the battle-field Don Marcelo lived through months of anxious suspense. Through the influence of a friend he was able to go to see the young hero. It was a tortuous journey through the zigzags and curves of the trenches, while bullets buzzed like horseflies through the air, and on through dark galleries and subterranean fortifications until he reached the outer intrenchment line.

Desnoyers hardly recognized his son on account of his changed appearance, but in spite of his hard life Julio had found content in comradeships such as he had never known. For the first time in his life he was tasting the delight of knowing that he was a useful being. As his father left him, hope sang in his ears: "No one will kill him. My heart, which never deceives me, tells me so." Julio became a sergeant, then a sub-lieutenant, and for his exceptional bravery received the Croix de Guerre, the military medal, and finally was among those proposed for the Legion d'Honneur. One afternoon during the Champagne offensive, Desnoyers, still cherishing the fond illusions of hope, returned to his home in gay spirits to find the dreadful news awaiting him. Julio, his son, lay dead on the field of honor.

When he went to the burial-fields to find his son's last resting-place he recalled Tchernoff, the dreamer, and the four terrible horsemen riding ruthlessly over his fellow-creatures whom he saw in his vision, and the prophecy which he then made: "No, the Beast does not die. It is the eternal companion of man. It hides, spouting the blood forty .. sixty .. a hundred years, but eventually it reappears. All that we can hope is that its wounds may be long and deep, that it may remain hidden so long that the generation that now remembers it may never see it again."