gony of every soldier must be his.

But he knew what his duty was, and as soon as he could move he began to
edge along the short beat. Once at the end he drew a deep and shuddering
breath, and, fighting all his involuntary instincts, he peered over the
top. An invisible thing whipped close over his head. It did not whistle;
it cut. Out in front of him was only thick, pale gloom, with spectral
forms, leading away to the horizon, where flares, like sheet-lightning
of a summer night's storm, ran along showing smoke and bold, ragged
outlines. Then he went to the other end to peer over there. His eyes
were keen, and through long years of habit at home, going about at night
without light, he could see distinctly where ordinary sight would meet
only a blank wall. The flat ground immediately before him was bare of
living or moving objects. That was his duty as sentinel here--to make
sure of no surprise patrol from the enemy lines. It helped Dorn to
realize that he could accomplish this duty even though he was in a
torment.

That space before him was empty, but it was charged with current. Wind,
shadow, gloom, smoke, electricity, death, spirit--whatever that current
was, Dorn felt it. He was more afraid of that than the occasional
bullets which zipped across. Sometimes shots from his own squad rang out
up and down the line. Off somewhat to the north a machine-gun on the
Allies' side spoke now and then spitefully. Way back a big gun boomed.
Dorn listened to the whine of shells from his own side with a far
different sense than that with which he heard shells whine from the
enemy. How natural and yet how unreasonable! Shells from the other side
came over to destroy him; shells from his side went back to save him.
But both were shot to kill! Was he, the unknown and shrinking novice of
a soldier, any better than an unknown and shrinking soldier far across
there in the darkness? What was equality? But these were Germans! That
thing so often said--so beaten into his brain--did not convince out here
in the face of death.

* * * * *

Four o'clock! With the gray light came a gradually increasing number of
shells. Most of them struck far back. A few, to right and left, dropped
near the front line. The dawn broke--such a dawn as he never dreamed
of--smoky and raw, with thunder spreading to a circle all around the
horizon.

He was relieved. On his way in he passed Purcell at the nearest post.
The elegant