Explore "Stolen Souls" by William le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The weird prologue of the drama was enacted some years ago, yet time, alas! does not obliterate it from my memory.
To the hail of bullets, the whistling of shells, the fitful flash of powder, and the thunder of guns I had grown callous. During the months I had been in Servia and Bulgaria watching and describing the terrible struggle between Turkey and Russia, I had grown world-weary, careless of everything, even of life. I had been present at the relief of Kars, had witnessed the wholesale slaughter in various parts of the Ottoman Empire, and was now attached to the Russian forces bombarding Plevna.