The wounded boy opened his eyes again, and, with returning strength, was now able to keep them open.
"Henry!" he said in a vague whisper.
"Yes, Paul, it is I," Henry replied quietly.
Paul lay still and struggled with memory.

The rain was now ceasing, and a few shafts of moonlight, piercing through the clouds, threw silver rays on the dripping forest.
"The battle!" said Paul at last.

"I was firing and something struck me.
That was the last I remember." He paused and his face suddenly brightened.

He cast a look of gratitude at his comrade.
"You came for me ?" he said.
"Yes," replied Henry, "I came for you, and I brought you here." Paul closed his eyes, lay still, and then at a ghastly thought, opened his eyes again.
"Are only we two left ?" he asked.

"Are all the others killed?
Is that why we are hiding here in the forest ?" "No," replied Henry, "we are holding them off, but we decided that it was wiser to retreat.