He flung it back into the opposing
trench. The rapidity of thought is hard to realise. In that second and a
half Smith was aware of many things: He saved his cousin's life
unquestionably; unquestionably also Jones seized the opportunity that
otherwise was his cousin's. But it was neither of these reflections
that filled Smith's mind. The dominant impression was another. It
flashed into actual words inside his excited brain: "I must risk it. I owe it to him--and more besides!" He was, further, aware of another
impulse than the obvious one. In the first fraction of a second it was
overwhelmingly established. And it was this: that the entire episode
was familiar to him. A subtle familiarity was present. All this had
happened before. He had already--somewhere, somehow--seen death
descending upon his cousin from the air. Yet with a difference. The
"difference" escaped him; the familiarity was vivid. That he missed the
deadly detonators in making the catch, or that the fuse delayed, he
called good luck. He only remembers that he flung the gruesome weapon
back whence it had come, and that its explosion in the opposite trench
materially helped his cousin to find glory in the place of death. The
slight delay, however, resulted in his receiving a bullet through the
chest--a bullet he would not otherwise have received, presumably. It was some days later, gravely wounded, that he discovered his cousin
in another bed across the darkened floor. They exchanged remarks. Jones was already "decorated," it seemed, having snatched success
from his cousin's hands, while little aware whose help had made it
easier.... And once again there stole across the inmost mind of Smith
that strange, insistent whisper: "I owed it to him ... but, by God, I
owe more than that ... I mean to pay it too...!" There was not a trace of bitterness or envy now; only this profound
conviction, of obscurest origin, that it was right and absolutely
just--full, honest repayment of a debt incurred. Some ancient balance
of account was being settled; there was no "chance"; injustice and
caprice played no role at all.... And a deeper understanding of life's
ironies crept into him; for if everything was _just_, there was no room
for whimpering. And the voice persisted above the sound of busy footsteps in the ward:
"I owe it ... I'll pay it gladly...!" Through the pain and weakness the whisper died away. He was
exhausted. There were periods of unconsciousness, but there were
periods of half-consciousness as well; then flashes of another kind
of consciousness altogether, when, bathed in high, soft light, he
was aware of things he could not quite account for. He _saw_. It was
absolutely real. Only, the critical faculty was gone. He did not
question what he saw, as he stared across at his cousin's bed. He
knew. Perhaps the beaten, worn-out body let something through at last. The nerves, over-strained to numbness, lay very still. The physical
system, battered and depleted, made no cry. The clamour of the flesh
was hushed. He was aware, however, of an undeniable exaltation of the
spirit in him, as he lay and gazed towards his cousin's bed....

Across the night of time, it seemed to him, the picture stole before
his inner eye with a certainty that left no room for doubt. It was not
the cells of memory in his brain of To-day that gave up their dead,
it was the eternal Self in him that remembered and understood--the
soul....

With that satisfaction which is born of full comprehension, he
watched the light glow and spread about the little bed. Thick matting
deadened the footsteps of nurses, orderlies, doctors. New cases were
brought in, "old" cases were carried out; he ignored them; he saw
only the light above his cousin's bed grow stronger. He lay still and
stared. It came neither from the ceiling nor the floor; it unfolded
like a cloud of shining smoke. And the little lamp, the sheets, the
figure framed between them--all these slid cleverly away and vanished
utterly. He stood in another place that had lain behind all these
appearances--a landscape with wooded hills, a foaming river, the sun
just sinking below the forest, and dusk creeping from a gorge along
the lonely banks. In the warm air there was a perfume of great flowers
and heavy-scented trees; there were fire-flies, and the taste of spray
from the tumbling river was on his lips. Across the water a large
bird, flapped its heavy wings, as it moved down-stream to find another
fishing place. For he and his companion had disturbed it as they broke
out of the thick foliage and reached the river-bank. The companion,
moreover, was his brother; they ever hunted together; there was a
passionate link between them born of blood and of affection--they were
twins.... It all was as clear as though of Yesterday. In his heart was the lust
of the hunt; in his blood was the lust of woman; and thick behind these
lurked the jealousy and fierce desire of a primitive day. But, though
clear as of Yesterday, he knew that it was of long, long ago.... And
his brother came up close beside him, resting his bloody spear with a
clattering sound against the boulders on the shore. He saw the gleaming
of the metal in the sunset, he saw the shining glitter of the spray
upon the boulders, he saw his brother's eyes look straight into his
own. And in them shone a light that was neither the reflection of the
sunset, nor the excitement of the hunt just over. "It escaped us," said his brother. "Yet I know my first spear struck." "It followed the fawn that crossed," was the reply. "Besides, we
came down wind, thus giving it warning. Our flocks, at any rate, are
safer----"

The other laughed significantly. "It is not the safety of our flocks that troubles me just now,
brother," he interrupted eagerly, while the light burned more deeply in
his eyes. "It is, rather, that _she_ waits for me by the fire across
the river, and that I would get to her. With your help added to my
love," he went on in a trusting voice, "the gods have shown me the
favour of true happiness!" He pointed with his spear to a camp-fire
on the farther bank, turning his head as he strode to plunge into the
stream and swim across. For an instant, then, the other felt his natural love turn into bitter
hate. His own fierce passion, unconfessed, concealed, burst into
instant flame. That the girl should become his brother's wife sent the
blood surging through his veins in fury. He felt his life and all that
he desired go down in ashes.... He watched his brother stride towards
the water, the deer-skin cast across one naked shoulder--when another
object caught his practised eye. In mid-air it passed suddenly, like
a shining gleam; it seemed to hang a second; then it swept swiftly
forward past his head--and downward. It had leaped with a blazing fury
from the overhanging bank behind; he saw the blood still streaming
from its wounded flank. It must land--he saw it with a secret, awful
pleasure--full upon the striding figure, whose head was turned away!