He heard it in his ears, but he heard it also in
his soul, in tension. There was relief when the thing had swung by and
struck, away beyond. He heard the hoarseness of its explosion, and the
voice of the soldier calling to the horses. But he did not turn round to
look. He only noticed a twig of holly with red berries fall like a gift
on to the road below.
Not this time, not this time. Whither thou goest I will go. Did he say it
to the shell, or to whom? Whither thou goest I will go. Then, the faint
whistling of another shell dawned, and his blood became small and still
to receive it. It drew nearer, like some horrible blast of wind; his
blood lost consciousness. But in the second of suspension he saw the
heavy shell swoop to earth, into the rocky bushes on the right, and earth
and stones poured up into the sky. It was as if he heard no sound. The
earth and stones and fragments of bush fell to earth again, and there was
the same unchanging peace. The Germans had got the aim.
Would they move now? Would they retire? Yes. The officer was giving the
last lightning-rapid orders to fire before withdrawing. A shell passed
unnoticed in the rapidity of action. And then, into the silence, into the
suspense where the soul brooded, finally crashed a noise and a darkness
and a moment's flaming agony and horror. Ah, he had seen the dark bird
flying towards him, flying home this time. In one instant life and
eternity went up in a conflagration of agony, then there was a weight of
darkness.
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