n sensation. He kept his eyes steadily before him, not
wanting to seethe men falling, not wanting anything to divert him from
getting there. He felt the faint fanning of the passing bullets. The
second line must be close now. Why didn't that barrage lift? Was this
new dodge of firing till the last second going to do them in? Another
hundred yards and he would be bang into it. He flung himself flat and
waited; looking at his wrist-watch he noted that his arm was soaked with
blood. He thought: 'A wound! Now I shall go home. Thank God! Oh,
Noel!' The passing bullets whirled above him; he could hear them even
through the screech and thunder of the shell-fire. 'The beastly things!'
he thought: A voice beside him gasped out:

"It's lifted, sir."

He called: "Come on, boys!" and went forward, stooping. A bullet struck
his rifle. The shock made him stagger and sent an electric shock
spinning up his arm. 'Luck again!' he thought. 'Now for it! I haven't
seen a German yet!' He leaped forward, spun round, flung up his arms, and
fell on his back, shot through and through....

The position was consolidated, as they say, and in the darkness
stretcher-bearers were out over the half-mile. Like will-o'-the-wisps,
with their shaded lanterns, they moved, hour after hour, slowly
quartering the black honeycomb which lay behind the new British line.
Now and then in the light of some star-shell their figures were
disclosed, bending and raising the forms of the wounded, or wielding pick
and shovel.

"Officer."

"Dead?"

"Sure."

"Search."

From the shaded lantern, lowered to just above the body, a yellowish
glare fell on face and breast. The hands of the searcher moved in that
little pool of light. The bearer who was taking notes bent down.

"Another boy," he said. "That all he has?"

The searcher raised himself.

"Just those, and a photo."

"Dispatch-case; pound loose; cigarette-case; wristwatch; photo. Let's see
it."

The searcher placed the photo in the pool of light. The tiny face of a
girl stared up at them, unmoved, from its short hair.

"Noel," said the searcher, reading.

"H'm! Take care of it. Stick it in his case. Come on!"

The pool of light dissolved, and darkness for ever covered Cyril Morland.

II

When those four took their seats in the Grand Circle at Queen's Hall the
programme was already at the second number, which, in spite of all the
efforts of patriotism, was of German