When Durwent had been equipped with a steel helmet and a rifle, Selwyn called him over to his side, and as concisely as possible explained the military situation. In the German attack against the French forces (with which the Americans were brigaded) the line had been swept back. Deep salients had been driven in on both their flanks, but orders had been received to hold the bridge at all costs, as, if a counter-attack could be launched, it would be an enfilading one made by troops brought across the river. Relying on their machine-gun and rifle fire to overcome the Americans' resistance, the enemy's artillery had been drawn into the deepening salients; but in spite of all-day fighting the straggling line had held. After a few questions from Durwent they relapsed into silence, gazing at the undulating expanse of country revealed by the ascending sun. 'Selwyn.' Dick cleared his throat nervously. 'I must tell you the truth. You were decent enough to stand sponsor for Mathews and me, and I want you to know everything. The major was right. We're not stragglers--we're deserters.' Selwyn made no comment, and both men stared fixedly through the long grass that drooped with heavy dew. 'Yesterday morning,' said Durwent dully, 'I was to have been shot. I was drunk in the line, and deserved it. It's no use trying to excuse myself. I fancy my nerves were a bit gone after what we'd been through the last few months, but---- Well, I suppose I am simply a failure, as that chap said in London--there isn't much more to it than that. By a queer deal of the cards, Mathews was on guard, and helped me to escape. It was rotten of me to let him take the chance; but it's been that way all through. Even at the end of everything--after being a waster and a rotter since I was a kid--I have to drag this poor chap down with me. Promise, Selwyn, if you come out of this alive, that you'll fight his case for him.' Selwyn murmured assent, but he was trying to shake off a haunting feeling that was enveloping him like a mist--a feeling that everything the young Englishman was saying he had heard before. It left him dazed, and made Durwent's voice sound far away. He tried to dismiss it as an illogical prank of the mind, but the thing was relentless. He could not rid himself of the thought that sometime in the past--months, years, perhaps centuries ago--this pitiful scene had been enacted before.