“You will be brave. I expect you to be brave, lieutenant.” Words of love and comfort were crowding to his brain, but he would not let them out.
“How long will you be gone?” she sobbed.
“I may possibly get back before midnight, but you mustn’t begin to expect me until to-morrow morning, perhaps not till to-morrow afternoon.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—I couldn’t stay here at night alone. Don’t go, please. I’ll not get hungry, truly I won’t, and to-morrow they will find us.”
He rose, his face working. “I MUST go, child. It’s the thing to do. I wish to Heaven it weren’t. You must think of yourself as quite safe here. You ARE safe. Don’t make it hard for me to go, dear.”
“I AM a coward. But I can’t help it. There is so much snow—and the mountains are so big.” She tried valiantly to crush down her sobs. “But go. I’ll—I’ll not be afraid.”
He buried her little hands in his two big ones and looked deep into her eyes. “Every minute of the time I am away from you I shall be with you in spirit. You’ll not be alone any minute of the day or night. Whether you are awake or asleep I shall be with you.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” she answered, smiling up at him but with a trembling lip.
She put him up some lunch while he made his simple preparations. To the end of the trench she walked with him, neither of them saying a word. The moment of parting had come.
She looked up at him with a crooked wavering little smile. She wanted to be brave, but she could not trust herself to say a word.