Some other guiding force had taken possession of her at the time, for the purpose in hand seemed the one thing supremely worth while.
Only through one’s imagination can the picture of a battlefield be really seen, for even when the eyes behold it, the spirit must act as its interpreter.
For nearly a year Eugenia had been nursing the soldiers in this worst of all possible wars, yet it was not until this afternoon that she had ever visited a battleground while the fighting was going on.
But fortunately the field to which Duke brought her was no longer a center of the firing. The field lay just behind a trench which but a few hours before had been a target for German artillery. However, the trench had already been captured, so that many of the soldiers who lay dead upon the ground had been killed during their effort to retreat.
Therefore the accident that occurred was not one which could have been reasonably expected.
With his great head bowed Duke was treading slowly, as if he realized the ugliness of the human tragedy surrounding them. Neither was Eugenia thinking of herself; nevertheless, a moment later and she lay stretched upon the battleground, as still and unconscious as any of the recumbent figures by whom she had so lately passed.
There for hours Duke stood sentinel beside her, yet not knowing whether he should go or remain. For while love compelled him in one direction, his sense of honor constrained him to stay by the companion who had fallen by his side.
Did Duke realize his own responsibility in the catastrophe, that his honor prevailed?
The entire afternoon passed and finally evening came and yet Eugenia did not stir. She looked an incongruous figure on the field of the dead. For although she wore her nursing cloak it had floated open as she fell, revealing her woman’s uniform with the cross of crimson upon her arm.