"Yes, Jeem 'Orton," she said, "before 'e went to de front. Dat does not matter now, I can assure you. What 'appen' at Boissière Wood, mon ami? Pochard tol' me what 'Arry 'Orton said——" And she related it as nearly as possible in Pochard's own words.
Jim Horton listened, smiling slightly, until she had finished. And then,
"I had intended to keep silent about this thing, Piquette. But I'm not going to keep silent now. I'm going to tell the truth, whatever happens to Harry or to me. He would have killed me——"
"No," she broke in. "I t'ink 'Arry was frighten' at what he 'ad done——"
"He wasn't too frightened to get those chaps to knock me in the head," he put in dryly, then broke off with a sudden sense of the situation. "I hope, Madame, that you do not care for him."
She had been watching him intently and now put her hand over his.
"No—no, Jeem 'Orton," she said carelessly. "But tell me de truth——"
He looked at her for a long moment.
"No one has a better right to know it than you."
And then, without ornamentation, he related the facts from the unfortunate moment that night when he had put on Harry's uniform and gone into the fight until he had met his brother in the Rue de Tavennes. She heard him through to the end.