"As you want to get back," I said, "there's no harm in my telling you you're the first man I've heard say that."
The smile died from his eyes and his whole expression hardened.
"I want to kill some more of the beggars," he said, "before I can die happy." He broke off suddenly with an unexpected laugh. "Lord! if my father heard me! I'm the son of a parson, you know; I'm supposed to be taking orders some time or other. But first of all I must get level over your brother, Miss Dainton, and another man."
"Who's the other man?" Sonia asked. "I may know him if he was a friend of my brother's."
"Oh, he wasn't in our battalion at all. When we got to the reserve trenches I found him sitting very comfortably on someone else's overcoat: he'd lost his way in the retreat and seemed inclined to stay with us. I didn't mind—we were too much thinned out for that; besides, I couldn't make out if he'd been hit or what, he was staring all about him and jumping at every sound. I think he must have been wounded, 'cause when we started our counter-attack he staggered out and came a cropper over the wire and everything else. Awful plucky thing to do, you know; some of our fellows weren't half keen on attacking—nerve a bit shaken, you know. I gave the order, and for a second or two nothing happened. Then this chap shouted out, 'Come on, you men!' and went over the top of the trench like a two-year-old. The others followed after that, but I couldn't drag them out, myself. The fellow must have been pretty bad from the way he kept going over. I tried to send him back, but it was no use."
"Was he killed?" I asked, as Longton paused.
"I'm not sure it wasn't worse. We got dear old Seven Dials——"
"Got what?" I asked.
"That was the name of the trench," Longton explained. "We held it for a bit, and then the Bosches shelled us out again. They got hold of this chap, and when we made our second counter-attack that evening we found him hanging from the supports of a dug-out, with his feet six inches off the ground and a bayonet through either hand. Crucified." He drew breath and burst out with concentrated fury, "My God! those devils!... I was in hospital by that time; I never saw him. If I had ...! We met on the ambulance train, and he was raving with delirium. I did what I could for the poor brute.... He was too bad; I couldn't make out what he wanted." He sat up in bed with blazing eyes, as the picture repainted itself in his memory, then with a sudden shiver seemed to recall where he was. "I'm sorry, Miss Dainton. These are the things one's supposed to forget when one comes back to England. But—well, it might have been me but for your brother, and I'm going to make somebody pay for it."
"But—what happened to him?" Sonia asked, with horror in her eyes. "Where is he?"