and I might do what he wanted quite unbelievably
easily. Who would have thought it when we parted? I scribbled
down the great news against time. (I had an importunate proof to
correct before sailing; proofs are apt to take hours, I find, and
my sailing hour was near.) He might be expected to have my
scribble handed to him on the hospital stoep about three days
after. So I calculated. I flattered myself that I knew the ins
and outs of our despatches and mail deliveries, also that I had
allowed in my calculation for censorial delay. It was pleasant to
think how pleased he might be expected to be. I well-wished him
with a prayer. Then I started down the glaring white road for the
wharf. I had dismissed him from my mind, I regret to say, for
another three days or more.

I traveled down from that east coast fighting-base on a transport
that had brought up mules and horses. She had naturally enough,
shipped a goodly crew of flies with them. The mules and horses
had gone their ways, but the flies had by no means all gone with
them. Now with no quadrupeds to be their prime care, those that
remained were apt to obtrude themselves upon us. I deprecated at
heart the ruthless warfare that marine authority waged upon them.
But for all that I found my afternoon slumbers often distracted
by the survivors. On the first and second afternoons of that
voyage I awoke not long after I dropped off. I awoke, and thought
about nothing in particular. On the third afternoon my waking
thoughts took a very definite shape.

I was in a cabin or stateroom that two officers had shared going
up doubtless of the veterinary profession. Now on this return
journey I had the place to myself. I lay in my bunk with my boots
off, and observed the empty couch beside me.

It was my friend that I thought of my friend as I had taken leave
of him, reclining on the hospital stoep, straining with eager
eyes at mine. It was his breathless voice that I remembered. It
was saying over and over, 'You will go and see her, won't you?
I'll be with you in spirit in this your trek for her and home.'

Surely he was on that couch in the cabin now beside me, and
surely he was saying the same thing over and over again, just as
regularly and restlessly as if he were yonder electric fan
curveting with the same sort of panting iteration.

And yet, don't mistake me, I don't pretend to have seen anything
or heard anything extraordinary in the ordinary way of seeing or
hearing.