Wilderling and his poor old wife. After all,
they'd been awfully good to me. She'd been almost like a mother all the
time.... But there it was. It came over me like a storm. I'd been
fighting for nights and days and days and nights not to go to
her--fighting like hell, trying to play the game the sentimentalists
would call it. I suppose seeing the old man there and knowing what they
were going to do to him settled it. It was a sudden conviction, like a
blow, that all this thing was real, that they weren't playing at it,
that any one in the town was as near death as winking.... And so there
it was! Vera! I'd got to get to her--at once--and never leave her again
until she was safe. I'd got to get to her! I'd got to get to her! I'd
got to get to her!... Nothing else mattered. Not Wilderling's death nor
mine either, except that if I was dead I'd be out of it and wouldn't be
able to help her. They talk about men with one idea. From that moment I
had only one idea in all the world--I don't know that I've had any
other one since. They talk about scruples, moralities, traditions.
They're all right, but there just are moments in life when they simply
don't count at all.... Vera was in danger--Well, that was all that
mattered.

"The officer said something to Wilderling. I heard Wilderling answer:
"You're rebels against His Majesty.... I wish I'd shot more of you!"
Fine old boy, you know, whatever way you look at it.

"They moved him forward then. He went quite willingly, without any kind
of resistance. They motioned to me to follow. We walked out of the flat
down the stairs, no one saying a word. We went out on to the Quay. There
was no one there. They stood him up against the wall, facing the river.
It was dark, and when he was against the wall he seemed to vanish,--only
I got one kind of gesture, a sort of farewell, you know, his grey hair
waving in the breeze from the river.

"There was a report, and it was as though a piece of the wall slowly
unsettled itself and fell forward. No sound except the report. Oh, he
was a fine old boy!

"The officer came up to me and said very politely:

"'You are free now, sir,' and something about regretting incivility, and
something, I think, about them perhaps wanting me again to give some
sort of evidence. Very polite he was.

"I was mad, I suppose, I don't know. I believe I said something to him
about Vera, which of course he didn't understand.

"I know I wanted to run like hell to