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.