And I went back. There was a barrage on--and
on the way--I shirked--my nerve went. I sat down for twenty minutes
by my watch--I hid--in a shell-hole. Then I went to the Colonel, and
he gave me the men. And when we got up to the post, I was just a
quarter of an hour too late. Vivian was lying there dead--and the
others had been mopped up--prisoners--by a German bombing party. It
was I who killed Vivian. No one knows.'
Aubrey's eyes searched those of the boy.
The next moment Mannering was torn with poignant remorse that, under
the sudden shock of that name, he should have spoken at last--after
three years--to this dying lad. Crime added to crime!
'Don't think of it any more, Desmond,' he said hurriedly, raising
himself and laying his hand on his brother's. 'I oughtn't to have
told you.'
But Desmond showed no answering agitation.
'I did see him!' he whispered. 'He stood there--' His eyes turned
towards the window. He seemed to be trying to remember--but soon
gave up the effort. 'Poor old Aubrey!' His feeble hand gave a faint
pressure to his brother's.
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