Zaidos found Helen sitting at the opening of the shelter, looking up at the stars. She made room for him on the plank.
“I’m thinking hard about home, John,” she said. “One’s viewpoint changes so. I wish I knew that I have done right to come here and leave my parents and little sister. I’m just so lonely and troubled to-night that I have half a mind to tell you my story.”
“I wish you would,” said Zaidos, “if you feel like telling me. I told you all about myself, and it would make me feel sort as if I was really an old friend of yours if you told me things, too.”
“Of course,” said Helen. “I know how you feel. Well, John, you know, don’t you, that we are certainly in for an attack as soon as it is daylight? Perhaps before, because the enemy has searchlights that make it easy for them to bother us in the dark. I know they are expecting a big battle because this is a much coveted position. A great number of fresh troops are on the way here. I learned that to-night, and that looks serious, because we have our full quota of men here now. They are going to change shifts all night. So there will doubtless be heavy work for the Red Cross people, and much of that may be field work. And, John, it may be that never again will you and I sit talking together.”
“Nonsense!” said Zaidos. “Don’t talk like that! You are too sweet and pretty to die, and I can’t die because I have got such a lot to do.”
Helen shook her head. “I don’t say that we will,” she said. “But boys as busy as you, and women nicer than I could ever dream of being, have gone out into the dark—crowds of them, in this war.”
Zaidos saw that she was deep in one of the black moods that sometimes comes over the sunniest natures.
“Well, never mind,” he said. “You are going to tell me who you are, and all about things, and we are going to have the nicest sort of a visit, if we sit up all night.”
“I shall have to sit up anyway,” said Helen. “I’m on night duty.”
“Well, then so am I,” said Zaidos, “so begin!”