across that naked road. After a long delay word
came to him and he said we might leave. We
took the road on the run, and through the twilight
sped rapidly out of range. When we could no longer see the twin balloons we felt comparatively safe.
The country had a peaceful appearance. As we approached headquarters the sky was grey save for an ugly, dull red splotch in the west. It was like an old blood stain, like a wound in something already dead.
The peace of the château that night was unnatural. From habit we raised our voices. The silence jibed at us.
We drove into one of the great bases the next morning, and there we heard the news. But bigger than the news itself was the manner in which the officers received it. No clearer example of the shift in British psychology could be asked.
A man from the commandant's staff had joined us. We stood in the yard of an ordnance depot. Williams and this man were whispering. Williams' face all at once shared the expression of the other's — something I had appraised at first as a natural surliness. Quickly Williams beckoned me.
