“News reached the Yard, and I came directly—”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with us for a few days more.”

Rutledge began to laugh helplessly. Then he said, “Where have you been? I must have walked up and down this train a dozen times!”

“On the far side of the engine, examining all the wheels. Where the lad couldn’t see what he shouldn’t. We were very lucky in our car. But they want us to give our names to a constable, and so I came round to find him.”

Rutledge remembered Meredith Channing. “Do you see my motorcar there on the road? When you’ve given your name to the constable, go to it and wait. I won’t be long. I’ve promised someone I’d come back.”

Trevor nodded. “Go on. We’ll be all right.” Taking in his godson’s appearance, scraped and bloody and disheveled, he added, “If you need to stay longer . . .” and let his voice trail off.

Rutledge answered the unspoken question. “Like you, she was lucky. There is the constable, I think.” And then he was gone, hurrying back the way he’d come. He could feel Trevor watching him as he turned toward the trees.

He was ready to propose that he bring Meredith Channing back to London with them. But when he reached the blanket where he’d left her, she was gone. His coat was still there, and his belt. He looked around, a frown on his face, to see where she’d been moved.

A woman sitting nearby said, “Are you looking for the pretty young woman? She said someone might come. I believe they carried her to a house in the village. They’ve been moving the injured wherever possible. I’ll be next.” He realized she was clutching her arm, and saw that it was broken, the bruising already dark.

He hesitated, torn. “If you see her—tell her I found the man I was looking for. And I must take him back to London. If she needs me, she can send for me. I’ll come for her.”

But he had a feeling she wouldn’t send for him. He had a feeling that what she had seen when he’d turned to her a few weeks earlier had shown her what was wrong with him. She’d been a nurse, she’d been at the Front. She would recognize shell shock, and know him for what he was. And he couldn’t explain, he couldn’t tell her about Hamish. He could never tell anyone.

In another part of his mind, he saw that she’d taken the hat and the valise with her.

No excuse then for him to follow her to the village and knock on doors. And he shouldn’t leave the boy in this chaos while he searched.