ds you being
marked by a certain reserve. That is quite true. It dates back many
years. It dates back from the South African War. From an affair at
Vilboek's Farm."

Again his lips twitched; but otherwise he did not move.

"I remember," he answered. "My men saw me run away. I came out of it
quite clean."

I said: "I saw the man afterwards in hospital at Cape Town. His name
was Somers. He told me quite a different story."

His face grew grey. He glanced at me for a fraction of a second. "What
did he tell you?" he asked quietly.

In the fewest possible words I repeated what I have set down already in
this book. When I had ended, he said in the same toneless way:

"You have believed that all these years?"

"I have done my best not to believe it. The last twelve months have
disproved it."

He shook his head. "They haven't. Nothing I can do in this world can
disprove it. What that man said was true."

"True?"

I drew a deep breath and stared at him hard. His eyes met mine. They
were very sad and behind them lay great pain. Although I expressed
astonishment, it proceeded rather from some reflex action than from any
realised shock to my consciousness. I say the whole thing was uncanny.
I knew, as soon as he sat down by the table, that he would confess to
the Vilboek story. And yet, at last, when he did confess and there were
no doubts lingering in my mind, I gasped and stared at him.

"I was a bloody coward," he said. "That's frank enough. When they rode
away and left me, I tried to shoot myself--and I couldn't. If the man
Somers hadn't returned, I think I should have waited until they sent to
arrest me. But he did come back and the instinct of self-preservation
was too strong. I know my story about the men's desertion and my
forcing him to back me up was vile and despicable. But I clung to life
and it was my only chance. Afterwards, with the horror of the thing
hanging over me, I didn't care so much about life. In the little
fighting that was left for me I deliberately tried to throw it away. I
ask you to believe that."

"I do," I said. "You were mentioned in dispatches for gallantry in
action."

He passed his hand over his eyes. Looking up, he said:

"It is strange that you of all men, my neighbour here, should have
heard of this. Not a whisper of its being known has ever reached me.
How many people do you think have any idea of it?"

I told him all that I knew and concluded by showing him Reggie Dacre's