All Red’s life he had been apt, in moments of tension, to recur to a phrase which made a kind of background to his thoughts, and now he found himself repeating:
“Exiled and in sorrow far from the Argive Land.”
He turned round and glanced at the sun. It was sinking red, like a cannon-ball. Then he turned for a last look at No Man’s Land and the Hun positions. Nothing stirred. Far away on the right, a mile or two away, a machine gun sounded like a rapidly worked typewriter. A bat flew and turned above the British trench fifty yards in front of him. Red crawled back.
In the trench he met his brother officer Bill.
“Hullo, Red. Any luck?”
“No.”
Bill laughed.
“Wilibald’s some man.”
Red nodded.
That evening at mess Wilibald formed the topic of conversation. The Colonel spoke of him very seriously.