All for a Scrap of Paper Part 33

To Bob, the whole day seemed like a dream. His encounter with the German private was like the memory of some event which had taken place long, long ago. All the same, it was a wonder to him that he was alive and unwounded.

All around him lay men in various positions; some never to rise again; some, even if they recovered, to be mutilated for life. Only now and then did the rearguard of the enemy's army reveal its whereabouts, but all knew that thousands of men were waiting for any advantage which might be given to them.

The day was fast dying, and whatever little wind there had been had nearly sunk to rest.

"h.e.l.lo, Nancarrow! you here?"

"Pickford! Great heavens, man, whoever thought of seeing you!"

It was an old school-fellow who spoke to Bob. They had been four years together at Clifton, and Pickford had been on the military side of the school.

When Bob had gone up to Oxford, Pickford had left for Sandhurst. They had last seen each other on what they called their breaking-up row at the school. Both of them had been as wild as March hares, and they with a hundred others had yelled like mad at the thought of their school days being over.

Now they had met on French soil, amidst carnage and the welter of blood, at the close of a day which would ever live in Bob's memory.

"I heard you had refused to enlist, Nancarrow."

"Who told you?"

"Trevanion: he said you had shown the white feather over the whole business, and pretended to excuse yourself by religious scruples."

Bob was silent for a moment; he scarcely knew how to reply.

"I told Trevanion he was altogether mistaken in you," went on Pickford; "but he gave such details of your refusal, and described in such graphic language what others had said about you, that it seemed impossible for him to be mistaken. Some girl gave you a white feather, didn't she, at the Public Hall in St. Ia?"

"Did Trevanion tell you that?"--and there was anger in Bob's voice.

"I thought it was scarcely a sportsmanlike thing to do," said Pickford, noticing the look on Bob's face; "I told him so, too. We were talking about you only last night."

"Is Trevanion here, then?"

"Yes: didn't you know? He has been in the thick of it the whole day.

As you know, he is Captain of the Royal West--a fine lot of men he has, too."

"And he thinks I am still in Cornwall?" asked Bob.

"I suppose so. You see it was this way: we were talking about certain swabs of whom we were ashamed, and he mentioned you."

"Don't tell him I am here," said Bob quietly.

"Why?"

"Never mind--don't; I daresay he will find out soon enough."

"Anyhow," said Pickford, "he is awfully popular with himself just now; I hear he is certain to be a Major in a few days, and will be Colonel in no time. You know he is engaged?"

"Engaged? To whom?"

"You know her--old Tresize's daughter; Nancy, I think her name is. Of course you know her: Penwennack, her father's place, is close by St.

Ia."

"And--and is he engaged to her?"

"Yes," replied Pickford.

"Did he tell you so himself?"

"No, not in so many words; but he spoke of her to one of the other men as his _fiancee_."

Bob's heart sank like lead; the worst he had feared had come to pa.s.s.

This, then, was his reward for his fidelity to his conscience. He could not understand it. He knew Nancy was angry with him--angry at what she had called his cowardice, at his refusal to obey the call of his country. But he was sure she loved him: had she not told him so?--and now, to become engaged within only a few weeks, to the man she had spoken of, almost with scorn, was simply unbelievable.

For the moment he had become heedless of his surroundings; the fact that thousands of soldiers were crouching in the trenches waiting for any possible advance of the enemy, the groans of men who were wounded and perhaps dying, did not exist to him.

At that moment the issue of battles was less to him than the action of the woman he loved.

"I used to imagine you were gone on her," went on Pickford; "I suppose it was only a boy-and-girl affair."

Bob did not reply; he could not discuss the tragedy of his life with his old school-fellow.

"Where is Trevanion now?" he asked presently.

"He must be close by," was the reply. "I saw him less than an hour ago, when the Germans were beginning to give way. Of course I have always known him to be a fine soldier, but I never knew he had so much of the fighting devil in him. Man, you should have seen his eyes burn red--he was just like a wild savage. I think he forgot his duties as an officer and gave himself up to the l.u.s.t of fighting."

Pickford had scarcely uttered the words when a man came up to him. "I say, Trevanion's missing," he said.

"Trevanion missing? I was telling Nancarrow here that I saw him less than an hour ago."

"Yes, so did I; but we have had later reports. Sergeant Beel says he saw him fall; I think he was wounded by a bullet. Beel was at that time so hard pressed that he could do nothing for him."

In spite of himself a feeling of joy shot into Bob's heart. If Trevanion were wounded, perhaps he--then . . . but he would not allow himself to complete the thought which had been born in his mind.

Bob found himself amidst a group of officers. "It is impossible to do anything for him," he heard one say: "I know where he is, but no man's life would be worth a pin's purchase who tried to get at him. The Germans are not more than 500 yards away, and whoever shows himself to them is a dead man. Only a few minutes ago some men were trying to get from one trench to another, and they were just mowed down like gra.s.s."

"But Trevanion may not be killed," urged another, "and if he is badly wounded it might mean death to him if nothing is done for him.

Besides, daylight will be gone in less than an hour, and if he is not got at at once, it will be impossible to find him in the dark."

"And the man who tries to get at him in the light," said another, "will find himself full of bullets."

Bob listened eagerly to every word that was said, and again he could not help rejoicing at what seemed Trevanion's fate. The fact that he had discussed his, Bob's, cowardice with fellows with whom he had been at school had roused his anger against him; and when he was told that Trevanion was engaged to Nancy Tresize, a feeling of mad hatred mastered him.

"By G.o.d," said one, "but we cannot leave him out there without trying to get at him! Isn't there one of us who will make the attempt?"

"It would be a madman's act," cried another. "You know they are waiting for us, and, if any one dares to go out in the open, he is a dead man."

"You say you know where he is now?" said Bob.

"I know where Sergeant Beel said he saw him," was the reply.