No. It is not, but as the boy clutches at my arm he looks up, and I find myself staring into my own young face. I shout at him: "COME," and for a moment he does nothing. The young fool has absolutely no idea. Will he fail me? Good God, does he dare? Here am I, decades more decrepit, fighting his battle for him in a new country, carrying his grandchild out of danger, and here he cannot be troubled to lift his sorry arse to his own salvation! A sharp kick in the backside, boy, and be about it!