'Then in the No Man's Land, between the lines, they were under both shell and rifle-fire, till it was seen by our men that Benoit had his hands up, and that the other was wounded. The poor Belgian was dragging Mr. Sarratt who was unconscious, and at last--wasn't it ill-luck?--just as our men were pulling them into the trench, Benoit was shot through the head by a German sniper. That, at least, is how we now reconstruct the story. As far as Mr. Sarratt is concerned, we let it alone. We have no heart to worry him. Poor fellow--poor, gallant, patient fellow!'
And the Sister's strong face softened, as Bridget had seen it soften at Sarratt's bedside.
'And there is really no hope for him?' asked Cicely after a time. The Sister shook her head.
'The wounds have never healed--and they drain his life away. The heart can't last out much longer. But he's not in pain now--thank God! It's just weakness. I assure you, everybody--almost--in this huge camp, asks for him and many--pray for him.' The Sister's eyes filled with tears. 'And now that the poor wife's come in time, there'll be an excitement! I heard two men in one of our wards discussing it this morning. "They do say as Mrs. Sarratt will be here to-day," said one of them. "Well, that's a bit of all right, ain't it?" said the other, and they both smoked away, looking as pleased as Punch. You see Miss Cookson's behaviour has made the whole thing so extraordinary.'
'I suppose she thought it would be all over in a day or two,' she said, half-absently.
'And that it would be better not to risk the effect on his wife? Of course Mrs. Sarratt does look dreadfully delicate. So you _don't_ think it was a mistake? It's very difficult to see how it could be! The hands alone--one would think that anybody who really knew him must have recognised them.'
Cicely said no more. But she wondered how poor Nelly and her sister would ever find it possible to meet again.
Meanwhile, in the car ahead, Howson was gently and tenderly preparing the mind of Nelly for her husband's state. He described to her also, the first signs of Sarratt's returning consciousness--the excitement among his doctors and nurses--the anxious waiting for the first words--the first clear evidence of restored hearing. And then, at last, the dazed question--'Where am I?'--and the perplexed effort to answer Howson's--'Can you tell us your name and regiment?'
