So we rearranged the night duties, and Edwards went off till half-past eight, while I finished my dinner. Lewis was hovering about with toasted cheese and _café au lait_. As I swallowed these glutinous concoctions, the candle flickered and went out. I pushed open the door: the moonlight flooded in, and I did not trouble to call for another candle. Then I heard the sergeant-major’s voice, and went out. We stood talking at Trafalgar Square. “Shan’t be sorry to get relieved to-morrow,” I said. I was tired, and I wondered how long the night would take to pass. Suddenly, up the Old Kent Road I heard a man running. My heart stopped. I hate the sound of running in a trench, and last night they had run for stretcher-bearers when Robertson was hit. I looked at the sergeant-major, who was biting his lip, his ears cocked. Round the corner a man bolted, out of breath, excited. I stopped him; he nearly knocked into us. “Hang you,” said I. “Stop! Where the devil...?” “Mr. Davidson, sir ... Mr. Davidson is killed.” “Rot!” I said, impatiently. “Pull yourself together, man. He’s all right. I saw him only half an hour ago.” But as I spoke, something broke inside me. It was as if I were straining, beating against something relentless. As though by words, by the cry “impossible” I could beat back the flood of conviction that the man’s words brought over me. Dead! I _knew_ he was dead. “Impossible, corporal,” I said. “What do you mean?” For I saw now that it was Davidson’s corporal who stood gazing at me with fright in his eyes. He pulled himself together at last. “Killed, sir. It came between us as we were talking. A whizz-bang, sir.” “My God!” I cried. “Where?” “Just at the bottom, sir”--the man jerked his hand back down Old Kent Road. “We were just talking, sir. My leave has come through, and he was joking, and saying his would be through soon, when ... oh, Jesus ... I was half blinded.... I’ve not got over it yet, sir.” And the man was all trembling as he spoke. “He was killed instantly?” “Ach!” said the man. He made a gesture with his hands. “It burst right on him.” “Poor fellow,” I said. God knows what I meant. “Send a man with him, sergeant-major,” I added, and plunged up 76 Street. “Davidson,” I cried. “Davidson dead!” * * * * *