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And he was young A boy Not more than sixteen John couldn't have left hi as she didn't knohen the boy had died If only she knew-They hadn't unfastened his tunic and shirt to feel over his heart if he were dead So he couldn't have been dead when they left him But there was Sutton Billy wouldn't have left hi fro place He was so young, so sht It wouldn't take two to carry him She could have picked him up and carried him herself Billy had had the lame man to look after He had left the boy to John She saw John looking back over his shoulder

She got up and went through the house, through all the rooms, to see if there were any more of them that John had left there She felt tired out and weak, sick with her belief, her fear of what John had done The dead boy was alone in the house She covered his face with her handkerchief and went back

The Belgian waited for her at the entrance to the yard He had dragged hi on his hands and knees He s to look for you, Madeainst the stable wall He let his head rest on her shoulder now, glad of the protecting contact She tried not to think about John So hi her heart hard and sick The light went slowly out of the street, out of the sky The dark cauns, lit with spiked diaone to sleep again when she heard the a down the street

"Is that you, Charlotte?"

"Billy--! What made you come?"

"Conway He's in a frantic funk Said he'd lost you He thought you'd gone on with me"

Hoful it would be if Billy knew

"It was o on with you" She could hear hi her to wait for him in the stable yard

"I'd have coh I had an operation Is that a wounded ot there? I suppose he lost him, too?"