The men tell me they tried to stop him (wrote the captain). He was himself slightly wounded, he had just brought Lieutenant Stacey back to safety and the enemy at that moment was again advancing through the village. But he insisted upon going. The man he was trying to rescue was a private in his company and the pair were great friends. So he started back alone, although several followed him a moment later. They saw him enter the ruined cottage where his friend lay. Then a party of the enemy appeared at the corner and flung grenades. The entire side of the cottage which he had just entered was blown in and the Germans passed on over it, causing our men to fall back temporarily. We retook the place within half an hour. Private Kelly's body--it was Private Kelly whom Sergeant Speranza was attempting to rescue--was found and another, badly disfigured, which was at first supposed to be that of your grandson. But this body was subsequently identified as that of a private named Hamlin who was killed when the enemy first charged. Sergeant Speranza's body is still missing, but is thought to be buried beneath the ruins of the cottage. These ruins were subsequently blown into further chaos by a high explosive shell. Then followed more expressions of regret and sympathy and confirmation of the report concerning citation and the war cross. Captain Lote read the letter at first alone in his private office. Then he brought it home and gave it to his wife to read. Afterward he read it aloud to Mrs. Ellis and to Laban, who was making his usual call in the Snow kitchen. When the reading was ended Labe was the first to speak. His eyes were shining. “Godfreys!” he exclaimed. “Godfreys, Cap'n Lote!” The captain seemed to understand. “You're right, Labe,” he said. “The boy's made us proud of him. . . . Prouder than some of us are of ourselves, I cal'late,” he added, rising and moving toward the door. “Sho, sho, Cap'n, you mustn't feel that way. No, no.” “Humph! . . . Labe, I presume likely if I was a pious man, one of the old-fashioned kind of pious, and believed the Almighty went out of his way to get square with any human bein' that made a mistake or didn't do the right thing--if I believed that I might figger all this was a sort of special judgment on me for my prejudices, eh?” Mr. Keeler was much disturbed. “Nonsense, nonsense, Cap'n Lote!” he protested. “You ain't fair to yourself. You never treated Al anyhow but just honest and fair and square. If he was here now instead of layin' dead over there in France, poor feller, he'd say so, too. Yes, he would. Course he would.” The captain made no reply, but walked from the room. Laban turned to Mrs. Ellis. “The old man broods over that,” he said. “I wish. . . . Eh? What's the matter, Rachel? What are you lookin' at me like that for?” The housekeeper was leaning forward in her chair, her cheeks flushed and her hands clenched. “How do you know he's dead?” she asked, in a mysterious whisper.