It was an extraordinary thing, but in those few minutes Belcher said more than in all the weeks before. It was just as if the sound of the shot had started a flood of talk in him and he could go on the whole night like that, quite happily, talking about himself.

Once we heard a distant explosion that reminded us sharply of the men who had been out since midnight, felling trees and destroying bridges.

She heard a gate slam; it was a stretcher with a man’s body lying on it. She flung herself screaming upon the body, not heeding the little streams of blood that flowed from beneath the armpit and the head.

They were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps. The young men sit up and listen tensely, but the one who has been speaking reassures them with a backward wave of his hand.

Hickey...