Soldiers Three | Page 9

that they chew in their
teeth came floppin' among the rocks like tree-toads av a hot night.
'That's better,' sez Love-o'-Women. 'Oh Lord, how long, how long!' he
sez, an' at that he lit a match an' held ut above his head.
"'Mad,' thinks I, 'mad as a coot,' an' I tuk wan stip forward, an' the nixt I
knew was the sole av my boot flappin' like a cavalry gydon an' the -
funny-bone av my toes tinglin'. 'Twas a clane-cut shot - a slug - that
niver touched sock or hide, but set me bare-fut on the rocks. At that I
tuk Love-o'- Women by the scruff an' threw him under a bowlder, an'
whin I sat down I heard the bullets patterin' on that good stone.
"'Ye may dhraw your own wicked fire,' I sez, shakin' him, 'but I'm not
goin' to be kilt too.'
"Ye've come too soon,' he sez. 'Ye've come too soon. In another minute
they cud not ha' missed me. Mother av God,' he sez, 'fwhy did ye not
lave me be? Now 'tis all to do again,' an' he hides his face in his hands.
"'So that's it,' I sez, shakin' him again. 'That's th manin' av your
disobeyin' ordhers.'
"'I dare not kill meself,' he sez, rockin' to and fro. 'My own hand wud
not let me die, and there's not a bullet this month past wud touch me.
I'm to die slow,' he sez. 'I'm to die slow. But I'm in hell now,' he sez,
shriekin' like a woman. 'I'm in hell now!'
"'God be good to us all,' I sez, for I saw his face. 'Will ye tell a man the
throuble. If 'tis not murder, maybe we'll mend it yet.'
"At that he laughed. 'D'you remimber fwhat I said in the Tyrone

barricks about comin' to you for ghostly consolation. I have not forgot,'
he sez. 'That came back, an' the rest av my time is on me now, Terence.
I've fought ut off for months an' months, but the liquor will not bite any
more, Terence,' he sez. 'I can't get dhrunk.'
"Thin I knew he spoke the truth about bein' in hell, for whin liquor does
not take hould, the sowl av a man is rotten in him. But me bein' such as
I was, fwhat could I say to him?
"'Di'monds an' pearls,' he begins again. 'Di'monds and pearls I have
thrown away wid both hands - an' fwhat have I left? Oh, fwhat have I
left?'
"He was shakin' an' thremblin' up against my shouldher, an' the slugs
was singin' overhead, an' I was wonderin' whether my little bhoy wud
have sinse enough to kape his men quiet through all this firin'.
"'So long as I did not think,' sez Love-o'-Women, 'so long I did not see
- I wud not see - but I can now, what I've lost. The time an' the place,'
he sez, 'an' the very words I said whin ut pleased me to go off alone to
hell. But thin, even thin,' he sez, wrigglin' tremenjus, 'I wud not ha'
been happy. There was too much behind av me. How cud I ha' believed
her sworn oath - me that have bruk mine again an' again for the sport av
seein' thim cry. An' there are the others,' he sez. 'Oh, what will I do -
what will I do'?' He rocked back an' forward again, an' I think he was
cryin' like wan av the women he dealt wid.
"The full half av fwhat he said was Brigade Ordhers to me, but from
the rest an' the remnint I suspicioned somethin' av his throuble. 'Twas
the judgmint av God had grup the heel av him, as I tould him 'twould in
the Tyrone barricks. The slugs was singin' over our rock more an' more,
an' I sez for to divart him: 'Let bad alone,' I sez. 'They'll be thryin' to
rush the camp in a minut'.'
"I had no more than said that whin a Paythan man crep' up on his belly
wid his knife betune his teeth, not twinty yards from us.
Love-o'-Women jumped up an' fetched a yell, an' the man saw him an'
ran at him (he'd left his rifle under the rock) wid the knife.

Love-o'-Women niver turned a hair, but by the Living Power, for I saw
ut, a stone twisted under the Paythan man's feet an' he came down full
sprawl, an' his knife wint tinklin' acrost the rocks! 'I tould you I was
Cain,' sez Love-o'-Women.' 'Fwhat's the use av killin' him? He's an
honest man - by compare.'
"I was not dishputin' about the morils av Paythans that tide, so I
dhropped Love-o'-Women's burt acrost the man's face, an' 'Hurry into
camp,'