Two other lights went out at that same moment. The light in Aunt Marion's room, and the light in Aunt Marion's eyes.

The old woman was dead, her Bible fallen from her hands.

No one knew, no one except the huge black raven which flew out of her bedroom and circled away into the night.

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Very early the next morning, the entire Davidson Military Academy was out on the parade ground in full regalia, marching to the beat of the loud and brassy school band which brought up the rear.

Most of the cadets were struggling to wake up, hoping they remembered enough about the maneuvers to execute them at the crack of dawn with at least a semblance of military proficiency.

The cadets were finally in position for a special assembly; sectioned off, platoon by platoon. The band came to a halt, marched in place for the last measure of the music, then stopped. The last note echoed in the cold autumnal air.

The Colonel stood on the wide steps leading up to the main school building and smiled with pride at the rows of young cadets in perfect formation below him. He was much too fat for a military man, but since he knew he would never again be asked to fight for his country, he had let his body go, giving way to one of the minor pleasures in life.

Beside him stood a handsome, alert, stern-looking young man, whose lean, taut muscles rippled like water under his neatly pressed uniform. His physical condition. was a walking rebuke to the Colonel.

The Colonel began by welcoming the boys back from Thanksgiving vacation. Then he launched into a series of general remarks about the schedule for the weeks to come.

Down below on the parade ground, Mark whispered to Damien out of the side of his mouth, 'That must be him.' He was referring to the young career soldier standing next to the Colonel.

'He looks okay,' Damien whispered back.

'If you like gorillas.'

Just then, the Colonel concluded his brief announcements with: 'Bradley Platoon, hold fast. All other platoons to the canteen. By the right flank… MARCH!'

The band started up again and played until everyone was off the field except the two dozen cadets in Mark and Damien's platoon.

'At ease,' said the Colonel.

The boys shifted as a unit. The Colonel nodded in the direction of the young man at his side. ‘This is Sergeant Daniel Neff. He's taking over as Platoon Officer from Sergeant Goodrich.'

This was the first mention of Sergeant Goodrich. Death was never spoken of to cadets when it was at all possible to avoid the subject—a peculiar irony for a military academy—and the topic of suicide was especially avoided, since the act was considered unmanly and unheroic. So the late Sergeant Goodrich would not be referred to again.