Croin turns a face half hidden by bandages to me, and puts a leg
damp with sweat out from under the blankets, for fever runs high
just at this time. He too, is silent; he knows as well as I do
that he is not going on well; but all the same, he hopes I shall
go away without speaking to him.

No. I must tell him. I bend over him and murmur certain things.

He listens, and his chin begins to tremble, his boyish chin, which
is covered with a soft, fair down.

Then, with the accent of his province, he says in a tearful,
hesitating voice:

"I have already given an eye, must I give a hand too?"

His one remaining eye fills with tears. And seeing the sound hand,
I press it gently before I go.


VII


When I put my fingers near his injured eye, Croin recoils a
little.

"Don't be afraid," I say to him.

"Oh, I'm not afraid!"