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where to pray, for the whole wood is full of
dead, and there are all those Boches amongst
them, and nobody knows where Jean lies.
He was everything to her and he was so good
to her. And if you knew what a fine lad he
was, tall and strong like his father and with
his mother’s big brown eyes. She will
never forgive me, I know she won’t.”
He sat silent awhile. His restless eyes
kept wandering round the dark church and
suddenly stood still, staring fixedly towards
the corner where Josephine’s candle was
burning.
“Do you see that candle? Do you know
who killed Jean?” he whispered suddenly.
“No,” said the Doctor with unsteady
voice.
“It was that young Boche she has been
nursing night and day who killed her son,”
said he fiercely. “Jean was lying under a
tree a little way from the others. The
bayonet had entered his left side near the
heart, and the point was sticking out under
his right arm-pit. The Doctor said he must
have been killed instantaneously. The
Boche lay beside him in a pool of blood with
both his hands still on the butt-end of his
rifle. The Doctor said I must pull out the
bayonet, but my hands shook so that I could
not do it. The Doctor said he could not
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