Mrs. Cartwright smiled at her, answering her in two words that seemed ordinary enough. "I know." But they meant, to the elder woman, something very different from the gentle agreement that they conveyed to the girl. Claudia Cartwright heard again the hasty whisper with which Jack had taken leave of her those hours ago. "I want _Her_ to stay here," he told her. "I'd want you to take care of her." At the time Mrs. Cartwright had been paralyzed with surprise. Golden Awdas to stay with her? Why? Why on earth should Jack leave her----tonight of all nights? She, the bride, had seemed to see nothing stupefying in his action in going off with Captain Ross when the warning came through. But Mrs. Cartwright knew that Captain Ross had his own duty, not anything in which Jack must help him. Jack was free, she'd heard, until ten o'clock tomorrow morning. It was not Jack's pidgin to do anything until then.... Therefore why in the name of all that was extraordinary hadn't he taken his bride away when the others all went? Why hadn't he taken her off home with him, or to the hotel where he put up, or wherever it was? Then, very quickly, she'd seen why. One of the cleverest soldiers of her acquaintance had already told Claudia that, could the true history of these campaigns ever be written, it would read not merely like _another version_ of the War, but like _another War_. She guessed how many things planned never happen and how many things happen that were never planned, and how few of either get into the papers. Oh, the difference between the published account and the story of the man who was there! Tomorrow would see a report of this raid, which would say nothing at all of the men whose duty ... it had _not_ been to beat back the raiders. It was _not_ Jack's duty to go up that night. It was his duty not to go. But---- Up there he was now, she knew it. Up there, in the darkness and the din! Perhaps over the house now, the joyous eaglet-boy, fighting those circling hawks ... now, at this moment!... She knew it in her heart. And, thinking of that, she sat there smiling at the white and golden bride who was glad to think of her boy safe from this danger at least.... There was no reason why Golden should know it too. The woman he had loved continued to watch with the girl he loved, during her bridal night. CHAPTER XI HIS BRIDAL NIGHT "Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore, I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more." Lovelace. Mrs. Cartwright's intuition had been perfectly right. Jack Awdas was up during the raid over London. He was up to some purpose, as his comrades and three other airmen (prisoners of war) could tell. But here is his own version of the affair, as told by him, on the following day, to his young wife.