said nothing, and the colonel stood beside the door watching, until I was left alone. Then the iron shutter closed, and I heard the bar which secured it forced down into place. As I stared about me at the bare, solid walls, I knew that I was already condemned; that the court-martial which would follow would be only a mere form. Yet for the moment this knowledge scarcely penetrated my consciousness—one thing I remembered, her message. She cared! she would serve me if she could! Her thought of me was kindly! I put the food on the floor untouched, and sat down on the box. I wanted to live; I was young, ambitious, and—I loved that girl. I realized this truth clearly, and it became the one ceaseless incentive to effort. Her face arose before me, and I felt that her message was meant for my encouragement. She wanted me to live; wished me to know that she was not indifferent; trusted me to accomplish all that a man could. And I must act now, if at all. The time allowed me was short—how short I could not even guess. I ate the food, not from any sense of hunger, but because I needed it to keep up my strength, my mind ever busy with the problem. Would they give me a few hours respite—opportunity to reflect? If so, there was hope; I could plan and work, with some faith that the coming night would bring me a chance for escape. I was alone,
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The Red Mist
