My friend ceased speaking for a moment, and I felt a prickling and
tingling all over me. It was emotion and uneasiness both in one.
I looked at him. His eyes had suddenly become bright and clear, and
there was a smile about his narrow lips of mingled sadness and joy.
I will not tell you anything more about it. I will not go further into
what happened. I will only add that half an hour later that man was no
longer among the living.
_We shot him._
Was it honourable and just? Is it never permissible to shoot a
prisoner? Perhaps--perhaps not. I don't wish to dispute about it with
anybody. In this case that question does not interest me in the least.
I don't care whether it was lawful or not.
I will only honestly and openly declare that to me this little incident
stands out, amongst all the appalling things I saw, as something
infinitely beautiful and exalted.