'What's gone wrong, boy?'

Joe stopped a moment as if he had been shot. Then he went on unwinding
his puttees, and did not answer or look up.

'You can hear, can't you?' said Albert, nettled.

'Yes, I can hear,' said Joe, stooping over his puttees till his face was
purple.

'Then why don't you answer?'

Joe sat up. He gave a long, sideways look at the corporal. Then he lifted
his eyes and stared at a crack in the ceiling.

The corporal watched these movements shrewdly.

'And _then_ what?' he asked, ironically.

Again Joe turned and stared him in the face. The corporal smiled very
slightly, but kindly.

'There'll be murder done one of these days,' said Joe, in a quiet,
unimpassioned voice.

'So long as it's by daylight--' replied Albert. Then he went over, sat
down by Joe, put his hand on his shoulder affectionately, and continued,
'What is it, boy? What's gone wrong? You can trust me, can't you?'