"Hallo, Durward," he cried. "You're back. What sort of a time?..."
I told him at once what had occurred. The candle dropped from his
hand, falling with a sharp clatter. There was a horrible pause, both
of us standing there close to one another in the sudden blackness. I
could hear his fast nervous breathing. I was myself unstrung I
suppose, because I remember that I was dreadfully afraid lest
Trenchard should do something to me, there, as we stood.
I felt his hand groping on my clothes. But he was only feeling his
way. I heard his steps, creeping, stumbling down the passage. Once I
thought that he had fallen.
Then there was silence, and at last I was alone.
CHAPTER III
THE FOREST
And now I am confronted with a very serious difficulty. There is
nothing stranger in this whole business of the life and character of
war than the fashion in which an atmosphere that has been of the
intensest character can, by the mere advance or retreat of a pace or
two, disappear, close in upon itself, present the blindest front to
the soul that has, a moment before, penetrated it.
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