out for it,—­he must not die without it.  It hurt me to hear his voice break, and I made out to roll near him to help him search.  ‘We’ll find it,’ I told him, and he thanked me for my help.  ‘Look for a square hard case,’ he said eagerly.  ’It must be here; I had it after I fell down.’  Together we searched the rough ground over in the dark as well as we could.  I was glad enough to help him.  I had a picture like that of my own that I shouldn’t have liked to lose.  But we were clumsy searchers, and he seemed to lose hope as he lost strength.  Again he cried out for that picture, but now it was a despairing cry, and it hurt me.  Under the darkness I reached my one good hand up and took my own picture from its place.  So many of us carried pictures over our hearts in those days.  I pretended then to search once more, telling him to have courage, and then I said, ‘Is this it?’ He fumbled for it, and his hand caught it quickly up under his chin.  He was so glad.  He thanked me for finding it, and then he lay still, panting.  After a while—­we both wanted water—­I crawled away to where I heard a running stream.  It must have been farther than I thought, and I couldn’t be quick because so much of me was numb and had to be dragged.  But I reached the water and filled a canteen I had found on the way.  As soon as I could manage it I went back to him with the water, but I must have been gone a long time.  He wasn’t there.  But as I crawled near where he had lain, I put my hand on a little square case such as I had given him.  I thought it must be mine.  I lost consciousness again.  When I awoke two hospital stewards carried me on a stretcher, and a field surgeon walked beside us.  I still had the picture, and not for many days did I know that it wasn’t my own.  After that I forgot it—­but I’ve already told you of that.”

Her eyes had not quitted my face while I spoke, though they were glistening; her mouth had weakened more than once, and a piteous little “Oh!” would come from her lips.  When I had finished she looked away from me, dropping her eyes to the floor, leaning forward intently, her hands shut between her knees.  For a long time she remained so, forgetting me.  But at last I could hear her breathe and could see the increasing rise and fall of it, so that I feared a crisis.  But none came.  Again she mastered herself and even managed a smile for me, though it was a poor thing.

“I’ve told you all, Miss Kate.”

“Yes—­I’m unfair, but you have a right to know.  I found that picture—­your picture, when they brought him in.  His hands were clenched about it.  They said he had pleaded to hold it and made them promise not to take it from him—­ever.  I was left alone, and I dared to take it, just for a moment.  Something in the design of the cover puzzled me.  I had meant to put it right back, and after I had looked at it there was only one thing to do—­to put it back.”

“They said you found your own picture, or I might have suspected.”