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Updated: May 12, 2025
But look at this." Don dived into the capacious pocket of his trench-coat and brought forth a large envelope marked "On His Majesty's Service. Strictly Confidential." From the envelope he took a water-colour drawing representing a pair of long-legged ungainly colts standing snuggled up to their mother under a wild briar hedge.
Val glanced toward the downpour without. "Neither will I, in all probability," he said dryly as he went out. It had been on just such a night as this that the missing Ralestone had gone out into the gloom. But he was coming back again, Val reminded himself hurriedly. Of course he was. With a shake he pulled on his trench-coat and slipped out the front door unseen.
The story, as extracted from an unintelligent ticket collector, threw no light on the identity of the stranger beyond a statement that he had worn a long light trench-coat, beneath which the collector had caught a glimpse of khaki uniform as the gentleman felt for his ticket at the barrier.
I was saying my prayers in a corner of an old broken chateau, the Y.M.C.A. headquarters for that centre, with my trench-coat buttoned tight and my big muffler round my ears. Presently I heard some one say—one of the workers—“A gentleman wants to see you, sir,” and when I got downstairs there was a General, a V.C., a D.S.O., and a Star of India man—a glorious man, a beautiful character.
The discovery about the man in the trench-coat was all very well as far as it went, and perhaps formed another clue in the puzzling set of circumstances of the case, but it did not carry them very far, and certainly did nothing to lessen the weight of evidence against the girl who was charged with the murder.
"At 2.30 this morning I retired to rest in my clothes of course; we do not undress in the trenches. At 5.40 I rose and took on officer of the watch until breakfast at 8.45, when I was relieved by Sergeant-Major Stanton. It was raining, so I wore my trench-coat. After breakfast I retired to rest again.
Caldew was so impressed by the significance of the second appearance of the man in the trench-coat that he had timed himself in a fast walk over the same ground from Weydene to the moat-house, and was able to cover the distance in half an hour.
Rolling myself in a blanket and using my trench-coat and boots as a pillow, I lay and listened to the continual crack of rifle-fire, and the thud of bullets striking and burying themselves in the sandbags of our shelter. Now and then I dozed, and presently I fell asleep. I suddenly awakened with a start.
"Quite agree," replied Don, fumbling for matches in the pocket of his trench-coat, "as the Aunt would say. Our own pipe never tastes so sweet as the other fellow's smells. There is Chauvin over there and I want to speak to him. Perhaps he fails to recognise me in uniform. Ah! he has seen me."
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