effect was that of numbing monotony. Above them was a lane of open sky
with the clouds scattered, but slowly regrouping for the next assault,
and the forest shut in the moist heat so they sweated even in the wind
of the train's movement.
'How is your face?' asked Bruce and Mike Haig touched the parallel
swellings across his forehead where the skin was broken and discoloured.
'It will do,' he decided; then he lifted his eyes and looked across the
open trucks at Wally Hendry. 'You shouldn't have stopped me, Bruce.'
Bruce did not answer, but he also watched Hendry as he leaned
uncomfortably against the side of the leading truck, obviously favouring
his injuries, his face turned half away from them, talking to
Andre.
'You should have let me kill him,' Mike went on. 'A man who can shoot
down two small children in cold blood and then laugh about it
afterwards-!' Mike left the rest unsaid, but his hands were opening and
closing in his lap.
'It's none of your business, said Bruce, sensitive to the implied
rebuke. 'What are you? One of God's avenging angels?'
'None of my business, you say?' Mike turned quickly to face Bruce. 'My
God, what kind of man are you? I hope for your sake you don't mean
that.'
'I'll tell you in words of one syllable what kind of man I am, Haig,'
Bruce answered flatly. 'I'm the kind that minds my own bloody business,
that lets other people lead their own lives. I am ready to take
reasonable measures to prevent others flouting the code which society
has drawn up
for us, but that's all. Hendry has committed murder; this I agree is a
bad thing, and when we get back to Elisabethville I will bring it to the
attention of the people whose business it is.
But I am not going to wave banners and quote from the Bible and froth at
the mouth.'
'That's all?'
'That's all.'
'You don't feel sorry for those two kids?'
'Yes I do. But pity doesn't heal bullet wounds; all 'it does is distress
me. So I switch off the pity - they can't use it.'
'You don't feel anger or disgust or horror at Hendry?'
'The same thing applies,' explained Bruce, starting to lose patience
again. 'I could work up a sweat about it if I let myself loose on an
emotional orgy, as you are doing.'
'So instead you treat something as evil as Hendry with an indifferent
tolerance?' asked Mike.
'Jesus Christ!' grated Bruce. 'What the hell do you want me to do?'
'I want you to stop playing dead. I want you to be able to recognize
evil and to destroy it.' Mike was starting to lose his temper also; his
nerves were taut.
'That's great! Do you know where I can buy a secondhand crusader
outfit and a white horse, then singlehanded I will ride out to wage war
on cruelty and ignorance, lust and greed and hatred and poverty-'
'That's not what I-' Mike tried to interrupt, but Bruce overrode him,
