On the evening of the same day Colonel Blount came to see him. "Pollard, my lad," said the colonel, "I felt I must come to see you. You have rendered the British Army and your country a great service, and you will get your reward." "Thank you, sir, but I never thought about reward," said Tom simply. "I'm sure you didn't," replied the colonel, "but this job's not at an end yet, my lad." "No, sir," said Tom, mistaking his meaning, "we have got a stiff job before we lick the Germans." "I didn't mean that," replied the colonel. "I mean this Waterman business is not at an end yet." "No, sir," said Tom, "of course you will shoot him." "He deserves a worse death than that," replied the Colonel grimly, "but you will have to give evidence against him." "Yes, sir," replied Tom. "Will you be well enough to come to-morrow night?" "Yes, sir." The Colonel knew he was not acting according to strict regimental rules and regulations in speaking to a private in this fashion, but it was no ordinary case, and Colonel Blount was not a man to be tied down to military etiquette. Private though Tom Pollard was, he had rendered, as he had said, a signal service, not only to the Army, but to the British Nation. The next evening Tom found himself in a large room amongst a number of officers, and standing at one corner, carefully guarded, was Waterman. CHAPTER IX The evidence against Waterman was so clear, so overwhelming, that there was not the slightest doubt about the verdict which would be passed upon him. He had been caught practically red-handed in his deed of treachery; but this was not all. Tom Pollard's action had led to a number of other facts coming to light. He had by many cunning devices been in communication with the enemy; he had constantly made known the plans which he had learnt at the Divisional Headquarters, and had thus prepared the Germans for many of the attacks which we had made. Tom could not help being impressed by the fact that even although Waterman's guilt was as clear as daylight, it was the evident desire of those who tried him to act fairly, and even generously, towards him. Everything that could be said in his favour was carefully listened to, and noted; and on the faces of more than one present was a look of concern almost amounting to pain. This, however, did not hide the truth that every man regarded him with horror, almost amounting to loathing. They respected an enemy who fought openly and fairly, but for a man who was a staff officer in the British Army and who consequently learnt many of the plans of that Army; for a man who had taken the oath to be faithful to his King and Country, and yet to act as he had acted, was ignominy too vile for expression.