With reckless bravery, he and Russo had tried to rally the troops camped at headquarters.

It was a hopeless effort.

Half-breeds can never produce a military caste.

They may fight valiantly in the line of battle--they will not face the unknown, the terrible, the harpies that come at night, borne on the hurricane wings of panic.

Unhappily, De Sylva and his bodyguard were the messengers of their own disaster.