st the infernal flare of light Skeel's tall figure showed in
silhouette, standing there with hat lifted as though cheering. Again,
from the cruiser, a gun crashed. Where the burning launch had been a
horrible flare shot up; and the shocking detonation rocked land and
sky. On the water a vast black cloud rested, almost motionless; and
all around rained charred things that had been wood and steel and
clothing, perhaps--perhaps fragments of living creatures.

* * * * *

So passed into eternity Murtagh Skeel and his Green Jackets, hurled
skyward in the twinkling of an eye on the roaring blast of their own
magazine. What was left of their green flag attained an altitude
unparalleled that sunny morning. But their souls soared higher into
that blinding light which makes all things clear at last, solves all
questions, all perplexities--which consoles all griefs and quiets at
last the bitter mirth of those who have laughed at Death for
conscience's sake.

* * * * *

Very slowly the dull cloud lifted from the sunlit water. Dead fish
floated there; others, half-stunned, lay awash with fins quivering, or
strove to turn over, shining silver white in the morning sun.

XXIX

ASTHORE

The sun hung low over Northbrook hills as Barres turned his touring
car in between the high, white service gates of Foreland Farms, swung
around the oval and backed into the garage.

Barres senior, very trim in tweeds, the web-straps of a creel and a
fly-book wallet crossing his breast, glanced up from his absorbing
occupation of preparing evening casts on a twelve-foot, tapered
mist-leader.

"Hello," he said absently, glancing from his son to Westmore through
his monocle, "where have you been keeping yourselves all day?"

"I'll tell you all about it later, dad," said Garry, emerging from the
garage with Westmore. "Where is mother?"

"In the kennels, I believe.... What do you think of this cast, Jim?--a
whirling dun for a dropper, a hare's ear for a----" He checked
himself; glanced doubtfully at the two young men.

"You're somewhat muddy," he remarked; and continued to explore his
fly-book for new combinations.

Westmore, very weary, started for the house; Garry walked across to
the kennel gate, let himself in among a dozen segregated and very
demonstrative English setters, walked along the tree-bordered alley
behind the garage, and, shutting out the affectionate but qu