He had no definite plan of action to follow in his own case.

A dozen times a day he said to himself: "Am I a coward ?" His stomach failed him, and he ate so sparingly that it was commented upon by the more hardened men.

He was the greater troubled because a letter from Jack came during this stormy time, wherein occurred this paragraph: "Mary came back to the autumn term.

Her mother is dead, and she looks very pale and sad.

She asked where you were and said: 'Please tell him that I hope he will come home safe, and that I am sorry I could not see him before he went away.'" All the bitterness in his heart long stored up against her passed away in a moment, and sitting there on the wide plain, under the burning sun, he closed his eyes in order to see once more, in the cold gray light of the prison, that pale, grave girl with the glorious eyes.