“Have you done a disgraceful deed?”
“No—but you wouldn’t understand. My nerves are not quite right—and I lost my temper. I struck a senior officer.”
“And you are a soldier! And the king has decorated you!”
“Any soldier would have done it. You would have done it yourself, under the same circumstances. It was about a friend of mine who is dead. Those swankers who have never seen the whites of the enemies’ eyes don’t understand. He lied about him! I got out and up, and flew and lost myself, and when my petrol was done I made a landing to your light—and here I am.”
“Did you kill him?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. I didn’t wait to see. My nerves aren’t right yet. I hit him with my fist. Any man in my place with an ounce of blood in him would have done what I did. But I’m afraid that won’t help me much if they find me, even if he was only knocked out for the count.”
“Listen! It is Grandfather shouting for me. I must go, or he may get out of bed to look for me. You stay here.”
“For how long?”
“Until I come back—which will be as soon as I can get away. I’ll take these cartridges. Climb into a mow, and if you hear anyone coming hide under the hay.”
“I am in your hands. You believe what I have told you?”