death,
too. As fine a gentleman as ever stepped."

The other nodded, warming, sailor-like, to the hero-worship of an
officer. "That's right, Sister. 'E give 'is life for one of them
Germans, you might say."

"Is he dead?" asked Margaret in her clear, incisive tones.

"Yes, Sister." The speaker knelt down and turned back the hood,
uncovering the face and shoulders of the motionless figure on the
stretcher.

For a moment a feeling of giddiness seized Margaret. A great blackness
seemed to close round her, shutting out the busy scene, the voices of
the bearers, and the shuffle of their feet across the tiled hall. With
a supreme effort she mastered herself, and somehow knew she had been
waiting for this moment, expecting it. . . .

The man who had been kneeling rose to his feet, and the two stood
before her as if awaiting orders. Outside the entrance a motor
ambulance arrived and drew up with throbbing engine.

"The mortuary----" she began. "No--bring him here . . . out of all
this." She walked across the hall and opened the door of the small
room on the left of the entrance. The scent of roses greeted them: it
was the room from which she had fetched her glasses early in the
morning.

The two men deposited the stretcher on the floor and came out, glancing
at her white face as they passed. "Shall we carry on, Sister?"

"What? . . . Oh, yes, please."

They saluted awkwardly, and left her standing irresolute, as if dazed,
in the midst of all the bustle and traffic of suffering.

He had come back to her. Torps, who in life had never broken his word,
was also faithful to it in death.

2

The journey across the lawn to one of the seats in the shelter of the
clipped hedge of evergreens was accomplished at length.

The Indiarubber Man lowered himself with a little grimace into the
seat, and laid the crutches down beside him. One leg, encased in
splints and bandages, was stiffly outstretched on a stool in front of
him; his uniform cap--a very disreputable one, with a tarnished
badge--was perched on top of the bandages that still swathed his head.

"Phew!" he said; "thank you. That was a bit of a Marathon, wasn't it?"
He measured the distance across the lawn with a humorous eye.

"It was very good for a first attempt," said Betty, considering him
professionally. "Is that leg comfortable?"

"Quite, thank you." He leaned back and closed his eyes with a
luxurious sigh. "'Pon my word, this is wha