But Whitmore--he'd betrayed me, you see.

Often and often I had him alone and crying! and I promised myself to be behind him on just such a job as we're in for--a night assault: oh, he'd have enjoyed that! But he couldn't stand it.

At Celorico he gave me the slip and deserted: and now he's in Ciudad Rodrigo, yonder, and the trap's closing, and--what's he feeling like, think you?
Eh?
I know him: it'll get worse and worse for him till the end, and--it's a bad death for deserters." He paused, panting with hate and coughing the fog out of his lungs.
I shrank away against the wall of the trench.
"When he's done with, I won't say but what I'll turn my attention to you--or to Plinlimmon.

You know what Plinlimmon was after--that morning--on the roof?
He was there to steal." He eyed me.
"Yes," said I with sudden courage, "he was there to steal.

And you were waiting below, to share profits." He fell back a pace, still eyeing me.
"I'll have to find another way with you than with Whitmore--that's evident," he said with a short laugh, and was gone..