become less loud.

"It will happen. It is the result of the ideals really," Coombe said
further. "And it will come to pass at the exact psychological moment. If
they had come in at the beginning they would have faced the first full
force of the monstrous tidal wave of the colossal German belief in its
own omnipotence--and they would have faced it unawakened, unenraged by
monstrosities and half incredulous of the truth. It was not even their
fight then--and raw fighters need a flaming cause. But the tower of
agonies has built itself to its tottering height before their blazing
eyes. Now it is their fight because it is the fight of the whole world.
Others have borne the first fierce heat and burden of the day, but they
will rush in young and untouched by calamity--bounding, shouting and
singing. They will come armed with all that long-borne horrors and
maddening human fatigue most need. I repeat--it will occur at the exact
psychological moment. They will bring red-hot blood and furious
unbounded courage-- And it will be the end."

In fact Coombe waited with a tense sensation of being too tightly
strung. He had hours when he felt that something might snap. But nothing
must snap yet. He was too inextricably entangled in the arduous work
even to go to Darreuch for rest. He did not go for weeks. All was well
there however--marvellously well it seemed, even when he held in mind a
letter from Robin which had ended:--

"He has not come back. But I am not afraid. I promised him I would never
be afraid again."

In dark and tired hours he steadied himself with a singular
half-realised belief that she would not--that somehow some strange thing
would be left to her, whatsoever was taken away. It was because he felt
as if he were nearing the end of his tether. He had become
hypersensitive to noises, to the sounds in the streets, to the strain
and grief in faces he saw as he walked or drove.

* * * * *

After lying awake all one night without a moment of blank peace he came
down pale and saw that his hand shook as he held his coffee cup. It was
a livid sort of morning and when he went out for the sake of exercise he
found he was looking at each of the strained faces as if it held some
answer to an unformed question. He realised that the tenseness of both
mind and body had increased. For no reason whatever he was restrung by a
sense of waiting for something--as if something were going to happen.

H