beneath the weight, she closed her eyes. When she
opened them once more, the quiet Thing under the sail-cloth lay upon
the stretcher. Every man within sight stood silent and bareheaded.

The bugle on the cliff sounded: "lights out."

The golden shaft of sunlight died from off the sea.

Then she came forward, and knelt beside her Boy.

Suddenly she understood the cry of anguish wrung from the loving heart
of a woman at a tomb: "Tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will
take Him away!" Oh, faithful heart of woman, alike through all the
ages; ready, with superhuman effort, to prove a limitless love and a
measureless grief!

She knelt beside the stretcher, and lifted the sail-cloth.

Yes, it was the Boy--her own Little Boy Blue.

His curly hair was matted with blood and salt water. There was a deep
gash across his temple, from the ear, right up into the hair His eyes
were closed; but his lips smiled, triumphant. "There must be pioneers!
Every good life given, advances the cause." "Yes, Little Boy Blue.
But has it ever struck you, that, if you marry, your wife will most
probably want you to give up flying; not being able to bear that a man
who was her ALL, should do these things?" She lifted the sail-cloth
quite away, and stood looking down upon him, so shattered, yet so
beautiful, in his triumphant sleep.

Suddenly her arm was seized from behind. She turned.

The Professor had succeeded in pushing his way through the crowd, and
in mounting the breakwater. His cravat was awry; his top-hat was on
the back of his head. He looked at her through his glasses, in amazed
indignation.

"Christobel," he said, "this is no place for you. Come away at once.
Do you hear? I _bid_ you come with me at once."

The only thing she really minded was that his hat was on, in the
presence of her Dead.

She could not free her arm from the grip of the Professor.

She turned and pointed to the stretcher, with her left hand.

"My place is here," she said, clearly and deliberately. "I have the
right to be here. This is all a fearful nightmare, from which we are
bound before long to wake. But meanwhile, I tell you plainly--as I
ought to have told you before--_this is the body of the man I love_."

At that moment, one of the crowd, springing on to the breakwater behind
the Professor, struck off his hat with a cane. It fell into the sea.

The Professor let go her arm, and turned to see who had perpetrated the
outrage