The gentle patting on his shoulder, that suddenly and poignantly reminded him of when Sylvia's hand was there, ceased for a moment, and then was resumed.

"Mike, old boy," said Hermann, "we've got to face the unfaceable, and believe that the incredible is possible. I may be all wrong about it, and, as I say, in a few days' time I may come racing back. But, on the other hand, this may be our last talk together, for I go off this afternoon. So let's face it."

"It may be that before long I shall be fighting for my Fatherland," he said. "And if there is to be fighting, it may be that Germany will before long be fighting England. There I shall be on one side, and, since naturally you will go back into the Guards, you will be fighting on the other. I shall be doing my best to kill Englishmen, whom I love, and they will be doing their best to kill me and those of my blood. There's the horror of it, and it's that we must face. If we met in a bayonet charge, Mike, I should have to do my best to run you through, and yet I shouldn't love you one bit the less, and you must know that. Or, if you ran me through, I shall have to die loving you just the same as before, and hoping you would live happy, for ever and ever, as the story-books say, with Sylvia."

"Hermann, don't go," said Michael suddenly.

"Mike, you didn't mean that," he said.

Michael looked at him for a moment in silence.

"No, it is unsaid," he replied.

Hermann looked round as the clock on the chimney-piece chimed.

(Editor：way)